You Already Have What You Need
Trusting yourself for the first time
I wrote this piece at the end of 2023 when the noise of New Year celebrations was underway. It came from a place of stillness and acceptance at a time of personal growth and intentional retreat.
This writing is highly reflective and full of grace for myself. I hope it reminds you that you are enough, just as you are. You bring value to this world by being here, my friend. Let’s celebrate that!
Here comes the barrage of New Year – New You advertisements! Everybody has a ground-breaking product to help you make radical changes, to reinvent yourself personally and professionally. Here’s a wild idea: What if you already have what you need? What if you’ve already laid the groundwork for success and just need to build on the foundation you’ve already established? Following is a real life lesson I learned about this concept.
For my sixth birthday, my grandmother presented me with a bureau, which is what we Mainers call a dresser. She had bought it at a yard sale and refurbished for me. I like to picture her thinking about me as she stripped, sanded, stained, and finished the bureau with her rough, hard-working hands. She was a woman who knew how to make anything out of nothing and the love she poured into refinishing my dresser was a huge part of the gift. Grammy pointed out the inscription she wrote on the inside wall of it, which said, “For my darling granddaughter, Christi, refinished in 1977.”
I recall this dresser playing a pivotal role in my coming-of-age experiences, including one Easter Eve when I woke to the sound of rustling cellophane wrap. When I sleepily asked my father what was going on, he came up with a quick response that the Easter Bunny had left my basketful of candy on the kitchen table, and he was just setting it on my dresser for me to find in the morning. As you might imagine, that led my young mind down a rabbit hole of disillusionment about all things Easter Bunny/Santa Claus/Tooth Fairy related.
Then there was the time I discovered as a teenager how windows worked at night and was mortified to learn I had been undressing in front of my bureau by the window nightly, inspecting my developing body in the mirror, and giving a peep show to the neighbors!
I remember the time I applied a Ronald McDonald sticker to the front of the middle drawer. In the 1970s, stickers were made with the kind of adhesive that was nigh impossible to remove, and there is still a mark on the finish from the elbow grease I employed to try to get it off.
Initially, my tiny, folded clothing fit in the drawers with plenty of room to spare. One of the small top drawers was dedicated to gifts I received and cherished, but never knew what to do with, like kiddie perfume, cherry Chapstick, tiny figurines of baby angels lounging in repose, and that precious book of Lifesaver candy rolls from Christmas. Mmmm, butter rum. As I grew, my clothes took up more space, but the dresser never failed to accommodate everything.
Grammy passed away when I was 17, which added to the value of her gift. It brought me sweet comfort to recall my grandmother’s loving restoration and her beaming smile the day she gave it to me, 11 years earlier.
Grammy’s bureau moved with me to my newlywed home after our few years apart while I was a student and a missionary. It added the welcome warmth and familiarity I was trying to achieve in establishing my married residence. The accompanying mirror didn’t make it through one of our moves, but the dresser remained amazingly sturdy and beautiful.
As I became more comfortable financially, I entertained the idea of replacing Grammy’s bureau with something more coordinated and fashionable. I walked into the furniture store and looked at their selection. A salesperson approached and I described the kind of set I was looking for. When I told her I wanted a dresser that was not too tall, so I could use it to journal on or write a to-do list for the next day, she informed me that wasn’t a thing anymore. Only antique pieces had that size and shape. I had a dream that night that I was at a yard sale, trying to find a new dresser, but the only dressers I liked were the ones that looked exactly like the one Grammy gave me. I realized I already had the perfect dresser, which was the perfect color, the perfect height, and the perfect amount of room for everything I wanted to store in it. Why was I looking for something new? The thought of disposing of my old dresser with her signature in it made me feel sick, so I immediately abandoned the notion of ever letting it go.
Why do we feel the need to reinvent, redesign, and recalibrate at this time of year? Fresh starts? Maybe we get frustrated with how our lives are going? This does tend to be a time for renewal, but do we really need to throw the baby out with the bathwater? Instead, let us consider recommitting to what is already working well, vow to cherish the good we have, and hold more tightly to our good memories and the significance they imbue. Let us celebrate our success and grant ourselves the grace to reconsider reinventing ourselves. Maybe you already have what you need.
You are whole just as you are. You are complete just as you are. You are worthy just as you are.
All the love,
Chris
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