When the prise is Brilliant and Shiny

It's that time of year when I'm struggling to see the humor in how children's sports are run here in Norway.

MInd you, I am not thinking about the coaches and arbitrators and all the other adults who get involved to keep teams and athletes in active exercise. They do a great job! They sacrifice time, energy and social life to organize children's sport and interest. Through all kinds of weathers, they are out there, on the field and track helping to educate children to become active, team oriented people. They do it voluntarily and without payment.
When my boys with brilliant and shiny eyes hold a trophy in their hand after a chaotic tournament, I must admit that I feel a lump in my throat while I think of the great adults who have made it possible.

No, I think about the funding of sport.

In the United States, and many, many other countries, sports are driven through school. If you play football or chess, you represent your school. When you play in bands or is a gymnast, you do it for your school. It costs the kids time, and there is an expression called "soccer mum", which describes parents who sacrifice time to watch the kids when they are active, and otherwise support the team.

Here in Norway we have sports teams, or athlete clubs, and although they are run on a voluntary basis, nothing is really free and it costs money. Sportssuits and shoes we have to buy and pay yourself, but the club keeps equipment, firld, court and hall. They also pay insurance on the kids ... as soon as parents pay the yearly fee.
But then comes the central organs of sport.

I have two boys playing soccer. I am very proud of them and I see how they grow from playing matches. They understand how to be good losers, but even more important: They learn how to be good winners.

But. Each year NFF (Norwegian Soccers association) send out raffles to be sold. The two boys get 20 scratchcards each, valued to Nkr 30, - to be sold "door to door." My boys do not go on doors to sell lottery tickets. They know that all the other kids in the street, both football, handball, showjumping and other sports will go in the street and sell the scratchcards to their lottery... at about the same time of year. There are too many "no, I'm not having any" and "I don't have any cash at home."
We don't have family who live in the area either, which many depend upon for selling. So the invoice, that total nkr1200, - (about $200,-) that are included in the envelope with the scratchcards, gets paid, and we are stuck with a lot of scratchcards, we bought ourselves.

In mid-November, advent calendars arrives in the mail. 11 scratchcard-calendars each, 2 boys, equals 22 pieces a nkr 50, - to be "sold door to door." For the tidy sum of nkr 1100 - (about $ 180,-) It's no surprise that my boys do not go to our neighbors' doors to sell calendars. They know that all the other kids in the street, both football, handball, showjumping and other sports go in the street and sell ... at the same time of year. There are too many "no, I'm not having any", and "I don't have any cash at home".
We don't have family who live in the area either, which many depend upon for selling. So the invoice accompanying the advent calendars gets paid, and we are stuck with a lot of scratchcard-calendars, we bought ourselves.

And I have not even mentioned the huge bags with rolls of toilet paper (about $190,-) stored in the shed, and which we got invoice for, to pay for the tournament for boys 8 years old. We could sell them off, but everybody is selling toilet paper because... well, because. It's almost as if it's mandatory, like scoutgirls' cookies.

None of us can bear the thought of scratching calendars every day, from December 1 to December 24. it becomes an insurmountable and time-consuming project. By January I set off one evening and find the coin. The deadline to submit raffling with prices is March 31.
The boys join me for as long as they can be bothered, but it doesn't last long. Somehow there is no motivation in it for them when one route after another thanks for the support, but "Thank you for your support" gives no hope of a price.

2013 the advent calendars were red. Then I won Norway's, perhaps the world's, most expensive micro fiber cloth. That's it. A microfiber cloth.

2014 the advent calendars were purple. Yesterday I got two envelopes in the mail. Each of them contained two long teaspoons in stainless steel. I think I've got Norway's, perhaps the world's, most expensive teaspoons ... but they were at least brilliant and shiny.

Uncomfortable in this fast world.

On occasions I get invites to birthday parties, and other celebrations, where I expect there will be dancing, a couple of drinks, good food and a bunch of new people to meet and talk to.
It's something most would really enjoy and look forward to, I think.

I suspect most would even think I'm privileged to be so lucky I have friends who want to share their special events in my company.
But, and this may come as a surprise to many, I don't always feel like surrounding myself with people. I don't take a lot of room, you see. I am not one of those who enter a room and attract everybody's attention, some even demand that kind of commotion when they enter a room. I don't claim to be heard. I listen a lot more than I speak.
Being a good listener takes a lot of energy. It drains my energy to be attentive, and I know it will be more of an exhausting evening rather than a winding down and enjoy to the fullest.

I am one of those who really need to withdraw and absorbe the impacts I have been exposed to. I need to rewind and repeat and make my mind up about what was really said and done.
It doesn't mean I'm slow in any way. It means that I am in the habit of seeing things from different angles. I enjoy to put myself in other people's position; to mentally walk in their shoes.
Right then and there I make swift decisions, and from my stand they are, remarkably enough, the right ones most of the time.

We live in a fast world, an extrovert world, where those who speak fast and loud are paid attention to, where those who are amusing, witty and lively are those who get the network set. They promote themselves as entertaining and worth spending time and effort on.
Be heard and I tell you how skilled, capable and good looking you are.

I don't know what it's like in other cultures, but I know that western culture to a large extent values the outgoing ones a lot more than those who tend to keep more to themselves. I don't feel underestimated, mind you, I am just aware of the mainstream evaluation of people.
The extrovert versus the introvert.

I often see how fast people I regard as extrovert and outgoing become dependent on the positive feedback they get used to, and how devastating they feel the fall if they don't get the standing they expected.

I've always been the quiet type. But I also am quite confident in myself. I know who I am and what I stand for. I write a lot better than I talk (you can only imagine how bad I am at talking, then), but I always get my opinion across either way.

I know I have more than just a few strange characteristics like being quirky, eccentric, unenergetic, somewhat asocial (I love people, don't misunderstand me, I am just not very good with them in crowds), and I know many people perceive me as arrogant. luckily, my confidence has allowed me to look upon them as facets of my personality.

Actually it is rather nice to have such a rich inner life, and I know I am totally selfish when thinking like that. I give myself room to nourish my inner life; I read, write and listen; I think a lot. And I find I improve my skills to do so.
I listen to my own sounds, and thrive best when I can decide what sound I surround myself with. In a world so packed with noise, I don't really see that as a drawback. Especially young people shout when they believe they speak. I have noticed that in cartoons on TV the characters do too. I, on the other hand, love listening to music, honest conversations and silence alike.

I have a neighbor who love indie pop. During spring and summer he opens his doors and windows and turns the volume up. It really, really gets on my nerves. I tolerate it, but I admit it chases me indoors at times.

In spite of my own preferences I see the importance of living in the real world, and sometimes that means to neglect my own needs.

I thought I should find what good qualities people miss out on, when not appreciating the gentler personalities in our midst. So, here it is:

1. They create good atmosphere and whim in their environment.
2. They are good baromenters for when the atmosphere is not good enough.
3. They have a positive impact on the physical and psychological environment.
4. They have an advanced sense of coworkers' temper, strengths and weaknesses.
5. They have outstanding ability to concentrate and focus.
6. They possess an inherent high degree of disciplinarity.
7. They inherent strong values and hold strong ethical and moral standards.
8. They work through ideas and add more nuances and impacts.

Great stuff, unfortunately I can't claim to have these effects on my immediate environment. I am not really sensitive nor gentle, I'm not introvert either (actually I am, but I like to just say I'm shy to the limit of arrogance). At the end of the day I think I just challenge people's patience by being strange... BUT, I've been told I am a good friend.