Tag Archives: passion

14

Jun. ’13

Writing Scared

writing

A few months ago, I decided to enter a writing contest.  It was my first ever.  At the time, I was unsure which of my writings to enter, but I knew I wanted it to be one of the blog entries I had written since starting this public blog in February.  So, I put out a “feeler” on Facebook.  I got a lot of replies (thank you if you were one of them!), and it ended up being a resounding vote for an entry I wrote entitled “Scars.”  (See link below.  I’ll post links to each of the blogs I mention at the end of this article if you’d like to check them out.)

Now, I like “Scars,” too.  It’s personal.  It’s about overcoming the bad times and coming out victorious in the end.  What’s not to like about that concept, right?  It’s one of those “feel-good” pieces that I like to write sometimes.  I hope they help others, and sometimes I even go back and read them to help myself too.  I think those kinds of writings are important.  A vast majority of people could probably relate, so I thought I might have a good chance of appealing to what I assumed were probably “scarred” judges overseeing the contest.

So, “Scars” it was.

I had it all printed out and ready to send in to the contest.  Even had it in the envelope and sealed.  Very first writing contest, here I come.

And then, at the last minute, I did what I’m best known for in my life.

I changed my mind.

Just before mailing it out, I made what I assumed would end up being a bad judgment call on my part.  I pulled “Scars” out of the envelope, and I replaced it with “Fully Dressed.”

“Fully Dressed” is something I struggled with writing.  In it, I basically shine a spotlight on my insecurities.  One insecurity in particular.  And do you have any idea how hard that is to do?  I mean, it’s hard to admit your insecurities even to yourself, but to broadcast them to the public??  I’m always nervous just before I hit the little “Publish” button on my blog page, but I remember that one vividly.  It was a special kind of nervous.  My hands were shaking and I felt like I was going to be sick.

Now, reading it, you might not see all of that.  You might not think it’s all that big of a deal at all.  But trust me, to me it was.  I was verbalizing something that I don’t like to let show.  I was admitting a fault in myself.  Admitting that I let something get to me.  Really get to me.  And through the writing, I managed to process those feelings, and come to something that resembled a conclusion.  The thoughts I had about the issue flowed through my fingers in a way that I didn’t even know they could.  Suddenly, as I wrote, I started to stand up to myself.  I defended myself, to myself. 

And that felt good.

Remembering all those emotions that flowed through me as I wrote and posted that entry, I decided to take a deep breath and send my writing even further out in the world.  I entered it into the contest, hoping that maybe someone somewhere might see herself in my writing and know that she isn’t the only one who has ever felt that way.  Would it win?  Eh, probably not.  But the courage it took to send it was gratification enough.

So.  Fast forward to yesterday.

I got home last night and checked my mail.  Inside was an envelope from the writing committee overseeing the contest.

“Dear Melissa,

Congratulations! I am pleased to inform you that your entry entitled “Fully Dressed” in the Creative Writing Contest of the 2013 Wytheville Chautauqua Festival has won First Place in the Adult Essay category…”

Wow.  Just wow.

It went on to give specifics about the date and time of the awards ceremony and explained that I am to read the entry in front of all who attend(Yikes!), and asked me to provide a brief biography about who I am and why I like to write.

Why I like to write?  Well, that’s easy.

This.

This is why.

Not because I get an award.  Not because I get recognition.  Not because I get to get in front of a room full of people and read my winning piece out loud.  (Oh no, definitely not because of that – just the thought terrifies me!)  No, it’s not for any of those reasons.

It’s because someone somewhere understood.

Someone gets it.

Someone gets me.

***

“Writing is painting your deepest thoughts, fears, insecurities, sadness, happiness, and everything else in between, onto a canvas of words – and then, turning it around to face the world, hoping someone sees that canvas as a mirror.”
– Melissa Caudill

***

Referenced Blog Links

Scars:  https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/03/08/scars/

Fully Dressed: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/11/fully-dressed/

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04

Jun. ’13

Time to Chill

takeabreak

I’m about to do something that I have never done so far in my “career” as a runner.

I’m backing out of a race.

I was scheduled to run the Bear in July.  For those who missed my blog about it, this is a 5-mile race straight up a mountain.  When I signed up for this thing back in February, I knew it was going to be quite a challenge.  I was prepared to put in the training and do what it took to be able to run this bear of a race and be able to say that I did it.  Nothing was going to stop me.

Well.  February was four months ago.  A lot has happened since then.

I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses.  But frankly, I am.  Since February, I have

  • trained for and ran a half marathon.  (Go me!)
  • My daughter has been cast as the lead in a local theatre production (and I have been cast as a chorus member), which means the theatre is our second home.  It takes a great deal of our time and attention.
  • I have made the decision to move into a new home and have had to tackle the stresses that come along with any move.
  • I have hurt my foot in some phantom way (no clue how it happened – but it’s definitely getting better!), which has slowed my running down a great deal.

Oh, I could keep listing things, but honestly, it doesn’t matter.  Because basically?

Well.  Basically, I’m just tired.

I’ve noticed that ever since my half marathon has been over, my thoughts keep going back to this dreaded Bear race in July.  It has been a constant worry in the back of my mind.  Through everything else I’m doing in my life, there’s the undercurrent of, “I should be training for the Bear.  I should be training for the Bear. I should be training for the Bear.”  To be quite honest, it has become a nuisance.  So, after some soul searching, I have decided to back out of the race.

For a while, I struggled with that decision.  I called myself a quitter.  Told myself that, whether I realize it or not, other people are watching me through this process because of my blog articles and my Facebook posts.  By quitting, I am sending a message to my readers that giving up is ok.  That running is not the awesome thing that it is and that you shouldn’t push yourself to try bigger and better things.  I didn’t want this to be the message I conveyed.

But finally, I just decided to stop beating myself up.

I decided to look at it a different way.

Here’s what I want this decision to show you.  No one is perfect.  NO ONE.  If you’re a beginner runner (or maybe even just someone thinking about running), I know how intimidating it is to see these “experienced” runners do all the things they’re doing – the half marathons, the 5Ks, the 10Ks, the mountain-climbs.  Believe me, I know.  I was you just a little over a year ago.  I didn’t think that these runners were human.  I thought they weren’t like me – they didn’t have life stresses that get in the way, or days when they just felt too tired to run.  They were machines, not a flawed, tired human being like me.  Well, guess what?  I was wrong.  They were just like me.  And I’m just like you.  We all need a break sometimes.  We all need to go easy on ourselves and not push ourselves to the brink of exhaustion.

I mean, after all, when it ceases to be fun – then what’s the point?

I enjoy running.  I enjoy appreciating the new, healthier person that I have become because of it.  Nothing will ever stop me from being a runner.  But for a little while, I think I might hold off on pushing myself to the next limit.  I’m just going to enjoy where I am now, maybe enter a few local 5Ks here and there, and just relax for a while.  No pressure, no training, no pushing – just running.

I’m taking a little break from the stress.

And that’s perfectly okay.

***

“It was being a runner that mattered, not how fast or how far I could run. The joy was in the act of running and in the journey, not in the destination. We have a better chance of seeing where we are when we stop trying to get somewhere else. We can enjoy every moment of movement, as long as where we are is as good as where we’d like to be. That’s not to say that you need to be satisfied  forever with where you are today. But you need to honor what you’ve accomplished, rather than thinking of what’s left to be done.”
– John Bingham

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31

May. ’13

Moments

argueblog2

Awwww.  How sweet.

Ok, I’ll get back to this picture in a minute.  First – let me tell you a little something about myself.

I’m a jerk.

Oh yeah.  It’s true.  When I’m upset about something, I become an inconsiderate, irrational know-it-all who cannot see anyone else’s point of view but my own.  Especially when I’m already tired or stressed to begin with.  Anyone else like that, or am I all alone here in Jerkville?

Now, my boyfriend definitely knows this about me.  He has been a prisoner in Jerkville a few too many times.  And sometimes he likes to put a positive spin on this aspect of my personality by referring to it as my being passionate.  Passionate.  *Giggle*  (He missed his calling as a politician.)

But, then there are other times.  The times when he’s fed up and has had enough of the scenery in Jerkville and is ready to go home – that’s when he’ll call it like it really is.  He says I get crazy.

Ok, I’ll admit it.  Both are true.  Sometimes I’m passionately crazy.  But it’s because I feel things.  You know?  I feel them to my core.  There’s no half-assing it with me.  (Pardon my French.)  When I feel it, I feel it.

Now, sometimes that’s a good thing.  Sometimes it’s a wonderful thing actually.  I know I love with all of my heart, and then some.  I’d go to the ends of the earth for you if you’ve managed to win my heart.  And honestly, I kinda like that about myself.

But when the tide turns?  Ohhhh boy.  When the tide turns, it’s not such a good thing anymore.  It can get ugly fast.  Yep – it’s a flaw.  My biggest flaw, perhaps.  I admit it.

I, Melissa Caudill, am a flawed human being.  

I know, I know….shocking, isn’t it?  I thought I was perfect too!  But nope.  Turns out, I’m not.  Who knew!?

So, with all of that said, I want to tell you about something that happened in my latest argument with my honey.  Now, he is the exact opposite from me.  Polar opposite.  His way to handle a problem?  Clam up; don’t talk; wait for it to pass.

Bless his heart.

Now, you read all that stuff I just said about me, right?   If you were a fly on the wall during one of our spats, I can assure you you’d be quite entertained.  Honestly, though – (and don’t tell him this) – I admire him for the way he is.  In the same way that he admires my being “passionate,” I admire his being level-headed.  Calm.  Well, that is, until I’m pissed.  And then?  Then I think he’s….well….crazy.  Unhealthy.  A ticking time bomb.  He needs to let that junk out of his system!

In other words, I guess we’re both flawed.  It just happens to be in exact opposite ways.

Well, last night – as it has a few times in the past – those flaws came into play during a stupid argument.  I wanted to talk; he didn’t.  So, I marched my crazy self over to his house to make him talk.  When I first got there, he was asleep.  (Asleep?  Asleep!?  You think that is an excuse not to text me back??) 😉  After an unwelcomed chuckle from his half-asleep ramblings (he saw me and said in a slurred voice, “What are you doing in the band room?”…oh my gosh, I can’t even type that without laughing again – what the heck was that boy dreaming about?…), we got down to business.  We (I) ranted and raved and discussed every little thing each of us have ever done wrong in our lives from the time we exited our mother’s wombs.  Or, at least it seemed like that. Then, eventually, we chilled out and finally actually discussed the issue like we should have all along.

We’re fine now.  We still have problems, and always will (we’re human), but this catastrophe was avoided at least.

Now, back to the picture I posted at the beginning.  (See? I’m telling you this story for a reason.  And you thought I was just rambling….)

At one point during the argument, he got up and went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.  (I know, right!?  How dare him walk away when I’m ranting…)  He came back into the room, and I took a deep breath and resumed where I had left off without missing a beat.  And in the midst of my continued rant, you know what he did?

He handed me a drink of water.

Here I was, hoarse from all the fussing at the poor man, and he hands me a drink of water to help me continue.

Isn’t that amazing?  You can be irate at someone – think that they are the craziest, most insane, irrational person alive – and yet when you love them, you still make sure they’re comfortable.  Make sure they know you love them.

These are the moments, people.  Not the candlelit dinners, not the flowers, not the cute little pet names.

The times the people you love are being anything but loveable – and you love them anyway.  The parent tucking in the child that just screamed “I hate you!” at them just before they fell asleep; the pet that still runs up to you and welcomes you home when you’ve left it alone all day; the adult child of an Alzheimer’s patient still patiently lifting a spoon to the mouth that curses them in confusion; the boyfriend who hands a drink of water to the woman who has just hurt his feelings.

These are the moments.

Don’t forget to notice them.  OK?

***

“Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.”
– Peter Ustinov

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29

May. ’13

Good stuff

receiptblog

Two separate receipts – each with a $100 tip.

You hear about these kinds of things in the news all the time, right?  Some unsuspecting waitress somewhere is left a large tip from some kind, generous patron.  Pretty cool, huh?

These feel-good stories are always nice reminders that there are good people in the world.  But let’s be honest here.  Sadly, it always seems like these stories are far off somehow…like these ‘good people’ in the world aren’t actually in your world.  Right?  When they are just stories that you hear about or read about, they pretty much rank up there with TV shows or movies or books.  They seem ‘made up’ somehow.  Like fairy tales.  Oh, you know they are true – these things really happened to someone.  But when something doesn’t happen close to home, it’s easy to dismiss it and file it in the “that’s not going to happen to anyone I know” category.  You feel me?

Well, not this time.

The picture I posted above?  These are two receipts that were left on the table for my very-pregnant sister, Cathy.  The “Payton” that the handwritten notes are referring to is my soon-to-be-born niece.

And the story gets even better.

The two kind patrons who left these tips?  They were two young soldiers who had just returned from serving overseas.

Wow.

Cathy was moved to tears when she saw this much-needed selfless gift that was left behind for her.  And, frankly, so was I.

I’m not really sure what else I can add to this story.  I think the receipts speak for themselves – they are their own story.  Their own proof that goodness and kindness still exist in this world.  The handwriting, the celebration of a new life, the true generosity (growing up a military brat, I know personally that soldiers don’t easily have $100 bucks laying around to give away), the display of human kindness, of human togetherness….Wow.  Just wow.

I don’t know about you, but this was something I think I needed to see.

Thank you, soldiers.

***

“For it is in giving that we receive.”
-Francis of Assisi

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20

May. ’13

Dear Me

“A photograph is usually looked at – seldom looked into.”
– Ansel Adams

dearmeblog

I found this old theatre photo of myself as I was digging through a box of photographs over the weekend.  This is from the play “Fiddler on the Roof” and shows me pictured with my ‘stage-husband’ John.  We were 22 and 20 at the time the photo was taken.  I knew John would get a kick out of this as well, so I sent it to him.  After the initial “wow, that takes me back” kind of comments, we both started to realize how much has changed since this photo was taken.  Or rather, how much we have changed.  And in the conversation that ensued, John said something that really made me think. 

Looking at that younger version of himself in the photograph, he remarked, “There is SO much I want to tell that kid.”

Yeah.  Me too. 

So, I think I will.

***

Dear Me,

Wow.  Look at you.  You look like such a little girl; and yet, you’re a 22-year-old married mother of two.  How is that even possible!?  You look so innocent and clueless.  Oh yeah, now I remember. 

You are.

You’re 22-years-old and you’re living in a life that you don’t even recognize.  Just four short years earlier, you moved back to the small area where you were born, after having lived in a multitude of different places due to your military background.  In fact, you had just moved here from a whole separate country.  And you’re feeling just a little lost.

And wow – those past four years have been a whirlwind!  At 18, you were declared to be in remission from the cancer you just battled.  At 19, after finding out you were unexpectedly expecting, you delivered your first child – a beautiful redheaded baby boy.  At 20, you got married, even though you knew it wasn’t the best thing for you to do at the time, but the pressure from family convinced you that you should.  At 21, you delivered redhead #2 – a little girl this time.  And now, here you are in this picture.  22 years old. 

You’re confused.  You’re rebelling.  You’re unsure of yourself.  In fact, I hope you don’t take offense to my saying this, but you’re pretty much a total mess.  And you know it.  But here’s what I want you to know.

It’s ok.

Really.  It’s ok.  Holy crap, kiddo, you’re 22 years old and you’re an unhappily married mother of two kids already.  And a cancer survivor to boot.  No wonder you’re overwhelmed.  No wonder you look for your escape in this world of theatre where you can be anyone you want to be.  No wonder you’re a little bit lonely…there’s not many people your age who have these kinds of things on their shoulders.  You’re different.

And I know you know that.  It’s painfully obvious in all that surrounds you.  But I wish you knew that being different is ok.

In fact, one day, being different is what you’re going to like best about yourself.  You’re going to realize that all that you went through at such an early age made you grow up a little faster than most.  You’re going to realize that you have a deep sense of responsibility because of it.  That you have a deep empathy for others because of it.  That you are drawn to the theatre because it’s filled with others who are just like you.  Right now, you struggle with being involved with the theatre because people in your world tell you that it takes too much of your time.  And that’s not going to change, I’m afraid.  But one day – you won’t care.  One day you’ll come to realize that the reason you’re drawn to this is because it makes you feel like you’ve found your way home.  You’ve found your little island of misfits and it’s where you belong.  No need to try to fight it just because others don’t understand. 

It’s ok.

And your marriage…oh, you poor girl.  He is a good man, and you know he is.  But he’s not the one you were supposed to marry.  And unfortunately, you know this too.  Yes, you do end up breaking his heart.  But I promise you, he’s going to be ok.  And you know something strange?  Even though you’re getting ready to be divorced within the next year, the two of you will end up getting past all of this.  And one day, years from now, I think you’re even going to consider each other friends.  You’re going to work together to raise those little redheads and, even though you’re going to feel overwhelmed at times and feel like you don’t know what the heck you’re doing, they are going to grow up to be some really awesome teenagers.  And the two of you are going to work pretty well as a team in parenting them when the need arises.  I know you don’t want to be so young and already divorced, but I promise you it’s the right thing to do.  I wish you wouldn’t fight it so much.  Sometimes things happen and those things are going to disappoint you.  And sometimes you’re going to have to disappoint others.  But it’s part of the life process, my dear. 

It’s ok.

You’re going to spend the next ten years or more trying to mold yourself into what you think some guy wants.  And that’s sad.  None of your relationships are going to work out because you’ll be so busy trying to be someone you’re not.  Somewhere along the line in the midst of the unique way you grew up – moving from town to town – you somehow mistakenly learned that you have to mold and change yourself to fit your environment.  And this has transferred itself over to your relationships.  I wish you could stop that.  No matter how much you try to fit that square peg into a round hole, it’s not going to work.  You’re going to get your heart broken quite a few times because you’re just going to keep trying and trying to be what people want, rather than just be who you are.  I wish I could stop you from that.  It’s going to be turmoil, and it’s going to make you constantly feel like you’re not good enough.  Oh, how I wish you could know what I know now.

It gets better.

One day, you’re going to finally figure out who the heck you are.  And guess what?  You’re going to realize that you kinda like what you discover.  And you’re going to realize that the best relationships – the real relationships – are the ones with the people who like you.  Not just the ones who love you (you’ll be loved a few times over the years, I promise), but with the ones who like you.  The two don’t always go hand in hand, ya know.  (That’s a very hard lesson to learn.)  But when they do – oh, when they do – it’s nothing short of magical.  Wait for it, sweet girl.  Wait for it.

You’re going to be fine, kid.  You think you won’t right now.  But you will.  You’re smart; you’re funny; you’re talented; and you’re determined.  Those are some unbeatable qualities.  Give yourself credit for them.  They’re going to serve you well.

Now, get back on that stage and do what you love.  Oh, and while you’re at it, give that kid beside you a big hug.  Because even though you may not realize it right now, one day he’s going to be one of your closest friends.  Because you know all of that turmoil that’s going on inside you now?  He’s feeling it too.  And one day, years down the road, the two of you are going to reconnect as adults.  You’re going to realize that you were both going through similar processes way back then – both wading through a sea of outside influences and feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.  You’re both going to finally come to terms with and accept the ways that make you different from some of the others.  And in accepting this, you will see that what makes you different is actually what makes the two of you the same.  And the older you get, the more you’re going to realize that those kinds of connections are rare and precious.  And they’re the only ones that matter.

Keep up the good work, kid.  I’m proud of who you’re becoming.

Love,
Me

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14

May. ’13

Titles

titles

I have a confession to make.

I’m tired of running.

I’m not sure what’s going on here.  Running has been my passion for the past year.  It has gotten me through the tough times, proven to me that I’m tough, led me to a successful half marathon, and so on and so on.  It has been such a defining part of my life for a while.  For a year, I’ve a been a runner.

But here lately, amidst all of the other titles that have been bestowed upon me in my world, “runner” has slipped a little further down the list.

First of all, I’m in the middle of a move.  As someone who has moved about 17.2 million times in her life (possibly a slight exaggeration there), you would think I would be an old pro at it.  But nope.  It still sucks.  Who knew one small house could contain so much JUNK?  Plus, I guess no matter how much you know how much better the end result will be, moving can always be a little sad.  Leaving something behind always is.  So, maybe that’s why I’m tired?  I don’t know.  So, yeah.  Lately, my title of “mover” has bumped out “runner” for first place.

Another title that is inching up to the top is “car owner.”  I’ve been in search of a car for over a month now, ever since my accident.  I’ve been waiting and waiting for the insurance payments to go through so that I could proceed with getting another loan.  Once that finally happened and I was able to get another car, something is wrong with it.  Something minor, hopefully.  And something that the dealership is taking care of.  But in the meantime, I’m still driving a borrowed vehicle and remaining a burden while I wait.  So, yes… the frustrated “car owner” title has bumped itself to the top of the list too.

And, of course, there’s “Mom.”  The mom title is always at the top of the list, but for these past couple of weeks, it has been taking precedence.  Having to get my little “Annie” to all of her play rehearsals is taking up quite a bit of time. (In addition to dance rehearsals and an all-day dance recital over the weekend to boot.)  I wouldn’t trade it for the world, mind you.  I’m extremely proud and honored to be the Mom of such a talented, active little go-getter.  But it sure can be tiring.  So, scootch on over, “runner,” “mom” needs some space.

“Writer.”  Yep, that one is always there.  While running is therapeutic for me, writing is too.  And has been for a little longer than running has – pretty much all of my life, actually.  When the stress gets overwhelming, running my fingers across the keyboard seems to relieve it just a tad.  And it has been a little easier to find time to do that lately, than to find the time to run.  So, “writer” bumps “runner” down a few notches as well.

Oh, how I could go on and on.  So many titles are there fighting their way for first position.  “Girlfriend;” “Daughter;” “Granddaughter;” “Friend;” “Words with Friends player” (Hey – you have your priorities, I have mine); “Employee;” “Bill payer;” “Actor;” etc. etc. etc.  Sometimes, I guess it’s ok to understand that “runner” is still there…it’s just a little lost in the chaos.

So, maybe I’m just tired.  And…maybe with all of the other stresses in my life, I might be just a tad bit irritable.  Maybe.  Oh, ok, I admit it.  I’m irritable.  And maybe – just maybe – I’m directing that irritation towards running and allowing it to slip down the list.  I don’t know why I’m doing that.  It’s not running’s fault.  But I don’t really have to have a reason to be mad at it, do I?  Ask my boyfriend Richard – “reasons” aren’t necessary when it comes to me being irritable.  Maybe I just wanna be.  *Arms crossed* *Pouty face*

*Sigh*

But, alas, just like other temporary irritations in my life – they’re just that.  Temporary.  I’ve been mad at Richard before, and we made it through.  I’ve been mad at my kids before, and the feeling passed.  I’ve been mad at my parents, at my siblings, at my friends.  And yet, it always – always – works itself out.  Why?  Because love is stronger than any passing storm.  Just like the love that I have for the people in my world, the love that I have for running will also endure.  It will return. When the dust settles and the chaos clears, running will still be there waiting for me.  For underneath it all, my title still stands.  Untarnished.

I am a runner.

And I’ll be back.

***

“A woman under stress is not immediately concerned with finding solutions to her problems, but rather seeks relief by expressing herself and being understood.”
– John Gray

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13

May. ’13

Destiny

“It is such a happiness when good people get together — and they always do.” 
– Jane Austen

I want to tell you about the coolest wedding ever.

I can honestly say that I’ve never attended a wedding that made me want to write about it.  (Not even any of my own.)  But this one?  This one was screaming, “Blog about me!”  And so, I must.

jimrebecca

These are my friends Jim & Rebecca.  As you can see from the picture, they are standing in a theatre, which happens to be where they met.  And thus, where they decided to have their wedding reception.  And let me tell ya – this gal can throw a party!

After a beautiful, traditional, standing-room-only ceremony at a gorgeous little church, everyone headed over to the theatre for the reception.  Not only were the drinks flowing and the many varieties of yummy food waiting to be gobbled up, but the “activities” were a blast.  First and foremost: a photo booth, complete with costumes and accessories.  Oh, how much fun we had in this thing!!  See?

wedding1

Now, you know it was a different kind of wedding reception when my boyfriend Richard’s 12-year-old boy and 10-year-old girl later bragged to my daughter about having to miss the fun.  (She had back-to-back dance recitals that day – her dad had first shift duty, and I later took over for the second.)  Ask yourself how many times you’ve ever heard a kid telling another kid how much fun a wedding reception was.  It even got the ultimate seal of approval from Richard’s son when he deemed it worthy of the TLC show “Four Weddings.”  If a 12-year-old says your wedding is worthy of a TV show, I think you’ve probably done something right.

(FYI – if you’re local and ever want to have this awesome addition to an event you’re having, you can contact the “Prints Charming” company [How cute is that!?] at 336-469-1313.  Couldn’t mention this without crediting the people who made it happen!)

So, in addition to the uber-cool, kid-approved photo booth, there were also little collages set up around the theatre with memorabilia taken from the various shows that Jim and Rebecca have been involved in with Ashe County Little Theatre during the past three years that they’ve known each other.  As a member of this theatre myself, I had such a great time looking back over the memories.

Which brings me to my own little personal recollection of the Jim & Rebecca story.

Jim and I were involved in another theatre together for a few years, and had both talked about our desire to join Ashe County Little Theatre, but had never taken the plunge.  Finally, I decided to audition for a show…but didn’t make the cut.  In fact, I blogged about this if you missed it (https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/02/17/rejection/).  I came back and pouted to Jim that it looked like it just wasn’t meant to be to be a part of that theatre.  Well, as time went by, Jim made his way over himself (I think his first role was in Twelve Angry Men.)  He was thrilled to be a part of the group and often sent me messages about upcoming shows.  I finally found my way back myself and was cast in Harvey.

Now, Jim had told me about this woman that he had met here at the theatre and was quite smitten with, so I was anxious to meet her.  Imagine my surprise, when in walks Rebecca, the director of the show I wasn’t cast in a few years before.

Of course, we laugh about it now.  And I told him at his wedding that he is officially forgiven for being a “traitor.”  😉

But seriously – at one point while I was walking around this beautiful reception in this theatre that has become my second home, I couldn’t help but be overcome with a deep sense of destiny.  You know?  Jim and I both felt a pull to this theatre…and my, how much our lives have changed since we found our way to it.  I, too, met the man I love here.  Not as an actor, but as a friend of a fellow actor.  I first laid eyes on him at this very building.  First held his hand in the fourth row.

Little did Jim and I know how much we needed this.  By finding this theatre, we’ve found our way home.

Here’s to many happy returns for this beautiful couple that I am honored to call my friends.

melissa2

***

“We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet… I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things… all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ‘Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness.'”
– From the movie, Shall We Dance?

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10

May. ’13

The Bear

hills

So, in all my hustle and bustle with getting ready for this half marathon that I just ran [If you’re new to my blog, here is the link to that one: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/i-did-it/], I kinda sorta forgot about something.  I’m signed up for another race in July.

The Bear.

*Sigh*

bearprofile2

Holy crap.  Do you SEE this thing?  If you’re local, you probably know all about it.  If you’re not – well look at that picture.  A 1,541 elevation climb in 5 miles up Grandfather Mountain in Linville, North Carolina. They limit the run to 800 runners and slots usually fill up within the first two or three days after sign-ups open.

Oh. Dear. God.  What the heck was I thinking???

Oh yeah, now I remember.

I signed up for this race, and the half marathon, during the time that Richard and I were split up.  I was so incredibly determined to prove to myself that I was tough.  On the outside and on the inside.  I was going to devote my life (and overactive mind) to training for these races and show the world – and me – what I was made of.

Well, that was four months ago.  Richard and I found our way back to each other (yay!) and life is pretty awesome.  So, I have nothing to prove now, right?  No need to climb a dumb ol’ mountain.  It’s allll good.

Except.  Well.  I think I still need to do it.

Turns out, proving to myself that I’m strong didn’t really have anything to do with that breakup.  Actually, I think I have been needing to do this for a very long time.  Sometimes something comes along in your life … whether it be a breakup, a financial crisis, a family problem, whatever … and you suddenly start to see things like you haven’t seen them before.  Your slumbering senses are awakened.  You realize something needs to change.  And once you make that realization, going backwards is not an option.  It’s just not.

I’ve never seen myself as strong before.  I’ve had other people tell me I was.  I can look back on things that I’ve made it through (cancer, divorce, etc.) and realize that I must have been at least somewhat strong to get through it all.  But I didn’t feel strong.  Hearing others say it just didn’t do anything.  I needed to hear me say it.  And I just couldn’t.

And then I discovered running.

I discovered something that gives me strength.  Something that I can do to continually prove to myself that I can do so much more than I realized I was capable of.  With each additional mile and each additional intensity level, I amaze myself with what my body can do.  I just had to train my mind to tell my body it was possible.

And now it’s time to do that again.

I’m sure I won’t be the fastest person up that mountain.  Just like I wasn’t the fastest person to finish that half marathon.  But I’ll tell you what – I sure did run that half marathon faster than I’ve ever run one before.  And I sure will run those 5 steep miles in Linville faster than I ever have run them before too.  That’s a guarantee.

I can do this.  I will do this.  I will climb this mountain in July just like I’ve climbed all of the metaphorical mountains that came before it.  Only this time, I’ll be aware of my strength.  And I will be proud.

Then?  Then, I will file this memory away with all of the others, so that I can recall it the next time I see a mountain in my life that I feel like I won’t be able to climb.  This will remind me that I can.  And I will.

Hmmm.  Maybe that’s what this running thing is about after all.

***

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”
– Edmund Hillary

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07

May. ’13

Decisions

“A lot of people don’t want to make their own decisions.  They’re too scared.  It’s much easier to be told what to do.”
– Marilyn Manson

See that quote?  Yeah, Mr. Manson was talking about me.

Oh my gosh, I so hate making decisions.  I suck at them.  Anything from where we’re going out to eat to what kind of car I’m going to buy to what pair of shoes I’m going to wear for the day – I hate them all.  I want someone to walk around my life with me and tell me what to do.  I want them to point it all out for me.  Lead the way.  Basically, I just don’t want the responsibility for determining an outcome.  If the wrong choice was made and there were bad consequences, I want that to be someone else’s fault, not mine.

But apparently, this whole ‘grown-up’ crap doesn’t allow for that.  I’m stuck.  I have to make decisions whether I like it or not.

Wouldn’t it be nice if there were signs like this along the way?

wrongway

Now, see?  If I knew I had road signs in my life to direct the course, I’d be in good shape.  I’d have a lot less to stress over, I know that.  Wrong decision?  No biggie!  Here’s you a little sign telling you to turn around and re-do it.  Easy peasy.

Don’t I wish.

But I guess what I need to do is realize that while, yes, there may be a bad outcome if the wrong decision was made, there could also be a pretty awesome outcome if the right decision was made.  You know?

I guess that’s maybe what it all comes down to.  A fear of making decisions is really just a lack of confidence in yourself.  I guess I never really thought of it that way.

Hmmm.  I should probably stop that.

After all, I’ve made some pretty great decisions in my life at times.  I can think of two wonderful decisions right off the bat.  Those little decisions have bright red hair and make me laugh every single day.  I think I did an excellent job there.  What else?  Well, I made the decision to continue with school when I wanted to quit (being 19, pregnant, and in college was a tough row to hoe, let me tell ya).  I decided to continue taking various classes here and there after graduating which led me to the legal field.  I made the decision to end a marriage where I wasn’t fully allowed to be myself.  I made the decision to pursue my passion in theatre.  I made the decision to start running.

I made the decision to start this blog.

You know, now that I think of it, maybe I’m not such a bad decision maker after all.  I think I’m going to start remembering that.  Starting today, I’m just going to go for it.  When it’s time to make a decision, I’m going to just trust my instincts and jump.  What’s the worst that could happen?  You live, you learn.  You may fall sometimes, sure.  But there are also going to be times that you fly.

And I don’t know about you, but I think I’d rather fly with a few tough landings here and there, than to never leave the ground at all.

***

“It doesn’t matter which side of the fence you get off on sometimes.  What matters most is getting off.  You cannot make progress without making decisions.”
-Jim Rohn

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06

May. ’13

Now what?

nowwhat

Ok.  The half marathon is over.  I have officially achieved the goal that has been in the back of my mind ever since I started running about a year ago.  I put in the training.  I put in the sweat.  I put in the fear and worry.  And now here I am.  I did it.  I’m a half marathoner!

Sigh.

Now what the heck do I do with myself??

I’m telling you, I was barely home from the race before I was doing an online search to try to find another one.  This girl is hooked!  Now that I’ve felt that euphoric feeling at the finish line, I want to feel it again and again and again.  And I don’t just mean more half marathons.  Yep, that’s right.  I’m even looking into a full marathon.  If I can do a half, I can do a full, right?  Let’s do this!  I’m stoked!

But……I have to be patient.

Sigh.  The biggest dirty word in my vocabulary, and it starts with a “P.”  Patience.  Blech.

I have oftentimes made reference to how running and relationships have a lot in common.  Especially for me.  And I think this is going to be another good example.  (And, as I’ve discovered since I’ve started blogging…this will probably ring true for a lot of you as well.  I’ve never been more aware of how alike we all really are until I started this blog and got so much feedback from all of you about how you’ve identified with so many of the things I’ve said.  Isn’t it nice to know we’re all in this together?)

So, I have often felt myself feeling this same feeling of euphoria at times during a relationship.  You have a good night out together…a sweet, tender moment…a milestone of some sort, and suddenly, you start to get a little ahead of yourself.

“Look how well we look in that picture…we are PERFECT for each other!”

“Look what a good weekend we had…I want to spend every waking moment with him/her!”

“Look how much we enjoy being together…we should get married!”

Whoaaaa now.

I’m not the only one who has been guilty of these thoughts, and I know it.  I have female friends.  I’ve heard them echoed from them as well.  Why the heck do we do that?  Why do we get in such a hurry to push past the happy moments of “now” into what we think will be the happier moments of “tomorrow”?

Chill!

Ya know?  Just chill.

Bask in the moment.  Enjoy it for a while.  Enjoy this stage and celebrate this victory, this success, and don’t be in such a hurry to get to the next stage.  Because you know something about that next stage?  That next stage is hard.  Getting to this point you’re at now wasn’t all that easy, remember?  There were tough times where you thought you wouldn’t make it.  Obstacles that almost stopped you.  Outside influences that almost kept you from your goal.  Am I talking about running or relationships here?  What’s the difference really?  Whether we’re talking about sore muscles and sweat in training, or awkward misunderstandings and arguments with dating, this same thing stands true.  Each phase takes work.  Hard work.  And yes, the end result is rewarding and it is worth it.  It’s wonderful.  But there are no shortcuts.

None.

So, rather than being in such a hurry to jump to the next phase, maybe it’s ok to hang out here for a while.  The next phase will be there when you’re ready.  In fact, the more time you decide to wait to start that next phase, the more prepared you’ll be.

And the more prepared you are, the more glorious the result.

***

“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.”
– Beverly Sills

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