Of Mice and (wo)Men

While I consider myself to be decent at a number of things, I can not claim to be an expert at anything. The closest I come to earning the 'expert' title would be in the realm of falling. I can fall and recover as deftly as a slap stick comedian. I chuckle at those in the street that trip over an unforeseen obstacle, such as a fallen branch, and reflexively glare at the inanimate object as if it had humanized itself and intentionally fell in the tripper's path. Me, I am so accustomed to daily stumbles, I hardly notice when I have to studder step to regain my equilibrium.

Last night I caught up with a former high school classmate. She is an expert in something (slightly) more impressive than falling- specifically, neurobiology. Our subsequent conversation regarding mice and potential remyelination of neurocells is a topic that I-surprisingly, to some- am incredibly interested in and know enough to ask pretty specific questions. She was haltingly excited to discuss her research and the potential outcomes. As I pried for information, it became clear that her hesitation was founded in a general disinterest expressed to her work by others that 'think it's cool but don't really understand.' In short order we were discussing individual mice and potential medicines that are evolving as a result of her, and other's, remyelination efforts.

As I reflected on our conversation, I realized that I, too, don't share my work and the intricacies of why I truly love and care about what I do with others. An unfortunate habit formed during the dark years of my adulthood is creative introvertedness regarding professional endeavors and passions. Like my High School friend, I assume that others are either not interested or can not relate and therefore do not care enough to engage. But that assumption is, frankly, kind of snobby and presumptive of me.

I feel that my quest for a New Years Resolution to which I can actually commit has ended; I'll make a conscious effort to trust others enough to believe that when they ask me about my job (which finally aligns with my passion), they want to hear the answer- and I'll give it to them. And I'll even try to not follow it up with a story about my most recent fall to relieve some of my own anxiety about taking myself seriously. No promises, though.