The first person to type the accurate location of my sabbatical — Darby, Montana — into the comments section of March 28th post was bodojanbo. Congratulations! She has won a signed copy of Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth.
Wintering in Darby, Montana was a great experience. Not only was it breathtakingly gorgeous, it was productive. I completed what I set out to do—finish The Business of Being: Soul Purpose In and Out of the Workplace.
Often mistaken for an extrovert, I’m an introvert who functions as an extrovert. So this opportunity—three months of solitude—was like a decadent slice (or three) of crème brûlée.
We live a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Laura Moore Cunningham Memorial Arboretum. According to my VivoSmart fitness band, the rows between the trees add up to two miles. A great place for Willa to run off lead, we go there regularly to get in two of her six daily miles.
On one such occasion, Willa—a few rows over from me—stopped abruptly, put her forearms on the ground, stuck her butt up in the air, and remained stock still except for her metronome tail. When I reached her, this is what I saw (click to enlarge):
Desperately trying to blend in, this little fellow didn’t want to be seen; its only movement was an occasional blink. Willa and I left him alone so his most-likely racing heart could settle back to a normal rate.
Are you more of a blender-inner, or a stander-outer?
Leaving most of the shenanigans up to Willa, Lexi — one of our two dogs — rarely gets into mischief. On the few occasions when she is naughty, she hides. Even though she’s in plain sight she feels, “If I can’t see them, they can’t see me.”
Part of my calling includes speaking to large groups of people. As an introvert who functions as an extrovert, on these occasions I “hide” in plain sight.