Crowd Control

I think about my foibles often; usually in hopes of overcoming them. Since my senior year in high school I've struggled in crowds. Crowds = over 6 people, sometimes less. I clam up. I don't know what to say or I say things I regret. I'm awkward and nervous--mostly because my personality is not "shy" but I start feeling claustrophobic. This is particularly annoying in family gatherings which I am always excited to join and eagerly anticipate. Then the event arrives and I leave kicking myself. Alas. I'll get over it. 

Part of the issue may be my too-high expectations of life and everyone in it. It's nice to talk about ourselves, but can't we talk about large concepts? Somehow I've convinced myself that every conversation should be meaningful and thus change the world. No wonder my tongue trips. I love the idea of people getting together to banter over issues, to play games, to discuss books and concerns and plots to impact a larger sphere. I love the idea of crowds. Usually, though, in crowds there is less order and less purpose, so we talk about our lives in capsules: here's the summary without the meat, I'd hate to burden you with what actually matters to me. 

Granted, I wonder if keeping this blog is just another way to attempt overcoming my "crowd control" reflex and engage in a conversation that extends far beyond myself--yet here I am in a self-absorbed ramble! And so many of my entries here, as well as elsewhere, dwindle down to "woke up, changed diapers, read stories, danced in kitchen, laundry, clean house, dinner" when those are just the buttresses to what I'm thinking, worrying about, and wondering. 

So how does one make the hurdle and celebrate the group in all of its possibilities?