Tag Archives: writing

22

Apr. ’13

Uncomfortable

uncomfortable

I was at my boyfriend’s house over the weekend and his big, sweet cat came and plopped himself on me.  He was stretched at an obviously awkward angle with his little head burrowed into my chest.  Richard made some comment about how much “Mittens loves me” and I responded with, “No, I think Mittens just likes having a comfortable place to lay.”  Richard’s response: “No way.  Look at him.  That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

“That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

Such a seemingly innocent, yet ultimately profound statement.  I mean, think about it.  How many times does this end up being the case?   Love just really isn’t always all that comfortable.  Ya know?

Let me give you a few examples to explain where I’m headed with this.

I mentioned in a previous blog that I watched my cousin feeding my grandpa in the nursing home a few weeks ago.  I know she got tired of that.  She stood there for a very long time and I’m sure she got tired of all of that standing.  I’m sure her legs were sore.  I’m sure her arms got sore from the time it took to feed him.  I’m sure it was hard trying to understand what he was telling her and what he was asking for through his incoherent rambling.  I’m sure it was…well…uncomfortable.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I remember watching my daughter once serve as a capo for my boyfriend’s guitar.  No, really.  He was using a capo-less guitar that didn’t belong to him to play a requested song for my family at a holiday get-together.  My daughter jumped up and offered to hold it for him so it would sound right.  She stood there and pressed down on the strings as he played.  It was just so darn cute.  Here, I’ll show you.

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And afterwards?  Bless her heart, she had grooves in her little fingers from where she had to press so hard.  But she was so proud to have helped.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I watched my sister stand for hours beside the incubators of her newborn premature twin babies.  I know she got tired standing there.  I know it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to stand there and hold a syringe up above the babies so that their milk could flow down through their feeding tube.  I know that as a brand new mom it certainly wasn’t comfortable trying to work around all of the wires and monitors to change a teeny tiny little squirming baby’s diaper.  I know it’s not comfortable giving up hours and hours of her days traveling to and from the hospital that is close to 2 hours away while she continues to take care of them during the many weeks they remain in neonatal intensive care until they’re big enough to go home.  But she does it.

jenbaby

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

Another example.  I’m training for a half marathon.  And it is SO hard.  I get frustrated with myself at times.  My legs hurt.  I’m tired.  It’s difficult to squeeze in the time required to devote to the training.  But you know what?  I love running.  Why?  Because it’s making me a better person.  In more ways than I can count.  Running all those miles at one time?  No – definitely not comfortable.  But is it love?  Yes.  Love for the sport and love for the me that I’m becoming as I struggle through the discomfort. It’s not comfortable – it’s love.

These are just a few personal examples, but look around and you’ll see so many more.  Watch the coverage from the Boston marathon a week ago today.  I’m sure you’ve seen the picture of Carlos Arredondo.  He is the man who ran alongside a wheelchair holding an exposed leg artery closed for a complete stranger so that he wouldn’t bleed to death.  Comfortable?  No, of course not.  Love for a complete stranger?  Sure looks like that to me.

There are so many examples that surround us at any given time.  Love wears such a vast array of costumes.  And more often than we may realize – it’s disguised in discomfort.

We live in a society where love is portrayed in romance novels and movies to be all butterflies and rainbows.  The prince ends up with the princess.  They live in their castle and with the birds chirping and the sun shining for the rest of their lives.  Must be nice.  But out here in the real world?  Yeah, love is a different story out here.  Love takes work.  It takes sacrifice.  It takes eyes that see past the flaws and faith that believes beyond the impossible.

My boyfriend and I have been through some tough times.  We both have had issues to rise above and move past.  Sometimes we’ve given up temporarily, but we keep finding our way back.  We sometimes find ourselves surrounded by reminders that take us back to things we’re trying to forget.  We sometimes have outside influences that, knowingly or not, chip away at what we’re trying to build together.  And sometimes our own selfishness and insecurities do the chipping without any help.  No, love is definitely not always butterflies and rainbows.  Sometimes it’s just plain….uncomfortable.  It hurts, it’s hard, it takes work.  But yet, we stay.  Why do we do that?  Why are we still here?

Well.  You know.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

***

“It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful
Our love ain’t perfect, but it’s wonderful
We’re still learning to be loveable
It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful.”

– Clay Walker (It Ain’t Pretty lyrics)
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19

Apr. ’13

Problems?

“The huge problems we deal with every day are actually really small. We’re so focused on what bothers us
that we don’t even try to see our lives from a clearer perspective.”
– Susane Colasanti

problemsblog

I saw the above picture on Facebook yesterday.  The “someecards” are meant to be funny usually.  But every now and then, one pops up that is spot freakin’ on.

(I don’t mean to be snarky with this blog, but if the snark slips out, so be it.)

We humans sure are a bunch of complainers aren’t we?  Don’t believe me?  Go scroll through your Facebook for a minute or two.  Seriously.  Go right now and scroll.  I’ll bet you $100 and a Snickers that you’ll see someone complaining about something.  I’m not saying I’m not guilty of it myself at times.  I am.  But some people just seem to be pros.  For real.

“The people who live in a golden age usually go around complaining about how yellow everything looks.”
– Randall Jarrell

How much truth there is in that quote.  Sometimes I think we just forget to realize how incredibly blessed we are.  And this week is one of those weeks that should drive that point home for you.  And if it hasn’t yet, then maybe it should start now.  Ask yourself a few questions.  For instance – Are your limbs still intact?  Are your loved ones still around you?  Do you still have a place to work?  To live?  Have you gone through the week without being a firsthand eye-witness to a bloody, fiery trauma?

If your answer is yes to those questions, then I’d say you’re in pretty good shape.

Now, I’m not saying people are sick of hearing you complaining.  Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t.  Hey, it’s your life – it’s your Facebook – it’s your soapbox.  Do what you will.  You’re allowed.  But, that’s not my point.

My point is that for you – for your own well-being and your own peace of mind – you should probably stop complaining about things that, in the grand scheme, are really not that big of a deal.  And you know they’re not.  It’s really hard to find peace within yourself if you’re constantly in turmoil.  And that’s what complaining is.  It’s turmoil.  Give yourself (and – ok, I’ll say it – everyone else) a break, why don’t ya?  Chill out.  Relax.  Be calm.  Recognize.

Look around you.  See what others have been through in our country in this one little week.  One week filled with so much devastation.  Fall down on your knees and be grateful and appreciative.  Go hug your kids.  Go kiss your spouse.  Go pet your dog.  Take a big, deep breath and exhale gratitude.

***

“Remember, if you are criticizing, you are not being grateful.  If you are blaming, you are not being grateful.  If you are complaining, you are not being grateful.”
– Rhonda Byrne

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18

Apr. ’13

And still.

bostonpic

And still.

The week goes on.  New horrible news has filled the TV screen.  We go back to work.  We continue with our daily lives and go back to the way things were before we heard about it.

And still.

I continue to blog.  I continue to write on other topics.  But still it sits there.  Waiting for more to be said.  More to be done.  But what?  What can we do?  What can we say?

And still.

Still the thoughts won’t go away.  Won’t leave my mind.  Something is begging to be said.  But I have no idea what it is.

My thoughts keep going back to Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to ever officially run the Boston Marathon.  (Other women ran, but weren’t allowed bib numbers to show that they were “official” runners and to have their results included among the male runners.  Kathrine registered using her initials only and was given a bib number.  Once the “mistake” was discovered, race officials stormed the track and tried to remove her numbers, but other male racers formed a barrier around her and her boyfriend shoved them away.)  Kathrine is quoted as saying this: 

“If you lose faith in humanity, go out and watch a marathon.”

On Monday when I first heard the news, that quote immediately popped into my mind.  And I didn’t want that quote to be tainted by having it discovered that the bombing was intentional.  But, of course, it was confirmed that it was no accident.  Someone did this on purpose.  On purpose. 

And still.

Still, that quote was there.  I couldn’t get it out of my head.  But doesn’t this event erase that quote?  Shouldn’t what happened serve to prove that humanity is somehow tainted now and Ms. Switzer’s words no longer stand true?

No.

No, it does not.

I have struggled so much with this.  And I’ve finally figured out why that quote doesn’t want to leave my mind.

It’s still true.

“If you lose faith in humanity, go out and watch a marathon.”  Yes.  Watch the 117th running of the Boston Marathon.  Watch what happened surrounding the horrible, unfathomable bombing that took place at the finish line.  Watch how people immediately responded and started helping each other.  Watch how perfect strangers lifted each other off the ground and carried each other where further help awaited.  Watch how marathoners ripped off their shirts on the spot and used them as tourniquets to stop blood flow on the injured.  Watch how Dr Vivek Shah, an orthopedic surgeon who was just ready to approach the finish line area when he heard the blasts, continued to run towards the scene and immediately began using his expertise to aid the victims.  Watch how other finishers passed the 26.2-mile finish line and continued running an extra 2 miles to Massachusetts General Hospital where they donated blood.

Further still.

Listen to the stories that followed in the days to come.  Listen to the story of Laura Wellington.  Laura was one of the ones who did not finish and was still running when the blast occurred.  She knew that her family and friends were waiting at the finish line and didn’t know if they were safe.  Once she finally found out what was happening and, after wandering around alone and in fear for her loved ones, was finally able to contact a member of her party to confirm their safety, she fell to the ground crying with relief.  By this point, a couple, one of whom had finished the marathon, was walking in the same area and stopped to ask if she was ok.  She convinced them she was and, after explaining the situation, the man, who had just worked so hard to obtain the coveted Boston Marathon medal, took that very medal from around his neck and gave it her.  Just like that.  Laura put out a plea on Facebook as what she thought was a hopeless attempt at locating this kind man who extended such a humane gesture to her – and was able to identify him.  Brent Cunningham from Alaska.  Brent now joins the list among the many, many little heroes that surround this tragedy.

And still.

Even now, on a smaller scale, look around you.  Odds are that you probably know a runner.  And most of us, not having any clue what to do to show our support, have done all we know to do.  We just run.  Running isn’t going to fix anything (at this point, what can really?), and it’s not going to change what happened in any way, but it is our attempt to show that our spirit remains untouched.  We put on our fake little printed out Boston memorial “bibs” and run in honor of all who were affected in any way – including ourselves.  We don’t know what to say.  We don’t know what to do.  So we run.  We just run.

And still.

And still humanity stands firm.  We are still what we were seconds before those blasts occurred.  We are human beings who love each other; who care about each other; and who rise to the occasion when we’re needed.  We keep moving.

We just keep moving.  A little shaken, yes.  A little confused, yes.  Feeling a little helpless, yes.  But still moving.

Still.

***

“You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.”– Mahatma Gandhi

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17

Apr. ’13

Little Things

“You need to let the little things that would ordinarily bore you suddenly thrill you.”
– Andy Warhol

(Let me start this blog with a disclaimer to my child.  No, Kelly – this is not a tribute to One Direction and their song of the same title.  Sorry, kid.)

Ok.  Back to business.

Little things.

I’ve been thinking about this topic a lot recently.  Especially over these past few days.  A variety of “little things” have seemed to catch my attention more lately than they might normally do.

For instance.

I went to visit my grandparents in the nursing home this past weekend.  They have both been recently admitted after battling pneumonia and, unfortunately, the prognosis is not a great one for my 96-year-old grandfather.  Thankfully, they have been placed in the same room so they can spend this time together, although my grandmother’s failing memory makes it hard for her to understand what is happening.  But even with his sickness, and her failing memory, they both periodically asked about the other and looked over to be sure the other was still there.  To me, that was beautiful.  A glance to make sure the one you love is still by your side?  Yes, a little thing in the grand scheme.  But so very beautiful.

Also, while I was there, it was mentioned that my grandmother’s fingernails needed cutting and she hadn’t been able to do it herself.  So, I cut them.  Cutting your aging grandmother’s fingernails? Definitely a little thing.  But it meant something to me.  In my tiny little way, I was able to help.  Little things.

I watched my cousin Amy feeding my grandfather.

littlethingsblog

Putting a spoon to someone’s mouth when they aren’t strong enough to do it on their own? Yes, maybe a little thing. But is it so little? I think not.

Aside from the trip to visit my grandparents (and possibly because of it), other little things started catching my attention as well.

The man I love, for instance.

Now, for those of you don’t know us personally, let me start by explaining something.  I am in love with the quietest man alive.  It’s true.  The spoken word is not his speciality.  One of his favorite quotes is by Mark Twain: “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”  Smart man.  Me, on the other hand?  I never shut up.  We are the proverbial Mutt and Jeff of verbal communication. Well, in public anyway.

But for the past few days, I seem to be “hearing” him much more clearly than I ever have before.

I’ve mentioned in previous blogs that he is letting me borrow a vehicle until I can get the insurance mess sorted out from my wreck and can get a new one.  Earlier this week, the vehicle started overheating a little.  So, what does he do?  Gives me his own truck to drive to work so that he can keep it and check to see what’s wrong.  He then fixes it and returns it – with new windshield wipers to boot because it was a rainy day.  Little things?  Maybe.

After dinner one night while the kids played together, I was overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of exhaustion.  Usually I immediately start clearing the table after we eat (he cooks, so it’s the least I can do), but instead I asked if he’d mind if I went and laid down for a bit.  Not only did he not mind, but he came and laid with me.  We both ended up falling asleep and my daughter got this sweet picture of us:

littlethingsblog2

A nap together as a break from a busy day?  A little thing?  Maybe.

Another example – Mondays are hectic for me now.  My daughter was cast as Annie in our local production and I am a chorus member.  We have rehearsals on Mondays and she also has dance class on Mondays.  It’s hard to be in all these places at the same time, mind you.  So, what does that man of mine do?  Helps.  He picked her up from dance and brought her back to rehearsal so that I didn’t have to leave during chorus rehearsal.  And this followed him keeping her for me over the weekend so I was able to visit my grandparents like I mentioned before.

Little things? 

I’m telling you.  Pay attention.  Those little things speak loudly if you train your ears to hear them.

A few more before I wrap up.

I ran 11 miles yesterday in honor of all who were affected by the Boston marathon bombings.  It was my longest distance to date as a runner.  I wore my printed-out Boston runner’s bib in tribute.  While on the run, a fellow runner saw my bib as he was passing, and reached out and high-fived me.  A high-five from a stranger?  Definitely a little thing, but it sure had a big impact.  (Before the run was over, I got a few car honks as well.)

Also – a new friend of mine who is an ultra runner celebrated my 11 mile run with me as if it were her own personal victory.  Did I mention she’s an ultra runner?  She has run in a 130-mile race. Yes, you read that right.  One hundred and thirty miles.  And she celebrated my 11 like it was the greatest thing on earth.  Little things.

A random sweet text from my son; an email from a friend saying that my blog has inspired them to start running; getting chills while listening to a room full of little girls singing songs at a rehearsal for Annie….

I have to make myself stop.  This list could go on and on and on.

And isn’t that awesome?

Take the time to notice them.  They’re everywhere.  All of these little things are what make this crazy ride called life worthwhile.  Unfortunately, we are sometimes too busy to appreciate them.  But we need to stop that.  These may be the memories that fill our minds one day when we’re looking back on our past – the same ones that we might forget to give a second glance to in the present.  So, stop.  Look around.  Hear the things that aren’t being said – see the things that aren’t so obvious.  Be grateful.  Be appreciative.  Be alive.

Now, go make your list of little things.

***

“Half the joy of life is in little things taken on the run…
but let us keep our hearts young and our eyes open that nothing worth our while shall escape us.”
– Victor Cherbuliez

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16

Apr. ’13

Boston

As a writer and a runner, I feel drawn to blog about what happened in Boston yesterday.  But honestly, there just aren’t any words.  There just aren’t.  I don’t know what I can say that others before me haven’t already said.  How do you make sense of such useless violence at an event that is supposed to be filled with joy and pride and unity?

All I know to say is what I posted on Facebook yesterday in the midst of the first news coming out about the bombings, and what I’ve turned to myself many times before (including most recently during my little personal “disaster”).  These words from Mr. Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”
– Fred Rogers

Knowing that good still exists is sometimes the only thing that gets you through things like this.  Because it does.  It truly does.  For every nutjob, there are thousands of kind, good, caring citizens to help pick up the pieces from the destruction they leave behind.

Today, I will join the many runners across the nation who will be putting on our makeshift race bibs (see picture below) and running in honor of everyone who was affected by what happened yesterday – the victims, the injured, the families and friends, the bystanders, the runners (both present at the marathon and otherwise), and anyone else whose heart was broken by this blow to humanity.  I’m due an 11-mile run, which will be the farthest I’ve run so far.  No time like today.  Will you join me?

Print out the bib below and pin it to your shirt.  And run.  I don’t care if you run 0.5 mile or 50.  Just run.  Just run.  Do what we runners always do best – overcome adversity by putting one foot in front of the other and keep continuing to move forward.

 racebib

***

“If you can’t fly, then run. If you can’t run, then walk. If you can’t walk, then crawl. But whatever you do, keep moving.”
– Martin Luther King, Jr.

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13

Apr. ’13

Excuses = Fuel

excuses

I went for a 4-mile run this morning.  This was only my second run since my accident a few weeks ago.  I’m trying to take it slow and ease back in.  But after today’s run, I have realized something.

I’m ready.

My half marathon is 3 weeks from today.  This wreck did slow me down, I’ll give it that.  But it’s not going to stop me.  I’m still going to do what I had planned to do.  No excuses.

While running, I was thinking of all this and this random phrase entered my mind:

Turn your excuses into fuel.

At first, I’m not sure where that phrase came from or even if it made any sense.  But as I thought about it more, it started making perfect sense.  I started thinking of all of the excuses I’ve used in regards to running and all of the ways that I’ve turned those excuses from hindrances to motivators.  And if you’re a runner – or even if you’re just a living breathing human and have considered doing anything ever and have let excuses stop you – you might relate to some of these.  Here are  some examples of the excuses I have used in the past, and the responses I found to give myself:

I can’t run because I am overweight.  Oh yeah?  Well awesome.  Running will help you lose weight.  Go run.

I can’t run because I don’t have the energy.  Oh yeah?  No energy?  Awesome.  Running will help you find that energy.  The feeling after a run is hard to beat.  You’re energized for the day.  Now go run.

I can’t run because I’m too tired.  Awesome.  See above.  Running energizes you.  That tired feeling will be gone before you know it.  Run.

I can’t run because I have kids.  Really?  You have kids?  Awesome.  Teach them that staying active and healthy is important.  Show them that if you can do it, they can do it.  And you might even get to the point where you do it together.  So go get started.  Go run.

I can’t run because it’s taking too much time away from my kids.  No, it’s not.  It’s taking some time away from your kids – not too much time.  And you know you need some time alone.  And besides, you’re teaching your kids that time alone is important too and they’ll know to make it a priority one day themselves.  And that’s something that they really need to learn.  Go run.

I can’t run because I don’t have time.  Yes, you do.  I used to say the same thing and, believe me, I am extremely busy.  I live over an hour from where I work and I have two active teenagers.  I found the time.  You will too.  You make time for what’s important.  Run.

I can’t run because it’s raining outside or it’s cold or there’s a tornado or a hailstorm or whatever.  Awesome.  Good reason to finally join the gym.  And you can do more than run there.  There are weights and machines and everything.  And if you try hard enough you can even figure out how to use them.  True story.

I don’t have the money to join the gym.  You don’t?  Awesome.  That will make you cut your expenses in other places like you know you needed to do anyway.  It’s amazing how much you can save when you turn those lunchtime McDonald’s runs into lunchtime gym runs.

 I’m going through a relationship breakup.  Yeah, I know.  That sucks.  And it makes you sad.  But guess what?  Now you’re going to have even more time to run.  Taking time to spend with just yourself is more important now than ever.  Take this new time and use it.  You’ll amaze yourself with how strong you are.  Now go run.

And now we got back together.  Oh yeah?  Awesome.  Now you have your running buddy and cheerleader back.  And he understands and supports you training for this half marathon.  Don’t worry about taking the time you need to train.  He gets it.  And he’ll be there at the finish line.  How awesome is that?  Now go run.

Now I have all these man-hating songs on my running playlist…  Awesome.  Replace all the dude references with references to your old self instead.  It’s amazing how motivating those songs can be when you dedicate them to the old excuse maker that used to be you.  Show that chick who’s the boss and who’s going to rise above it all.  Go run.

And finally…

I can’t run because I had a wreck.  Yes, you did.  And it was scary and it sucked.  And you got hurt.  But it won’t last forever.  It took a little out of your training schedule plans, but that’s ok.  There’s nothing written in stone that says you had to follow every single step of that training plan.  Two days before you got in that accident, you ran 10 miles.  TEN MILES!  Girlfriend, you got this.  That wreck did nothing but make you stronger than you were before.  Because it served to show you that NOTHING is going to stop you.

So, yep.

Turn your excuses into fuel.

Makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?  Glad I thought of it.

Now, go run.

***

“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems – not people;
to focus your energies on answers – not excuses.”
– William Arthur Ward

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12

Apr. ’13

Rainbow

rainbow2

“My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky.”
– William Wordsworth

[Warning:  This is going to be one of those fuzzy warm feel-good kinda blogs.  I mean, it’s about a rainbow.  You had to see that coming.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you…]

Ok, so I know sometimes I think too much.  Sometimes I might see more in a situation than what might really be there.  I get that about myself.  (Of course, in my defense, I still stand by the fact that it’s better to see too much than to see too little.)  But I had a pretty cool experience this morning and I want to share it.

As most of you know, I had a car accident a week ago yesterday.  My car flipped down a bank and was totaled, but thank God I walked away with just a headache and a few scrapes. Now that I’m ok, I get to deal with a different kind of headache…the avalanche of insurance paperwork aftermath.  Ugh.  But in all the crap I’m having to deal with, there’s one thing I’m not having to worry about.  And that’s transportation.  My incredibly generous boyfriend has offered me a spare vehicle to drive.

And it’s not just any ol’ vehicle, mind you.  It was his dad’s.

Richard’s dad passed away a few years ago, and he meant the absolute world to him.  I know he misses him every single day.  So, I know that trusting me to drive his vehicle is a pretty big deal.  I, unfortunately, didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him.  I came into Richard’s life just a little too late.  And from what I have come to understand, I really missed out.  I remember over a year ago when Richard and I first started seeing each other.  Anytime I would mention the name of the guy I was dating, local people would say, “Oh, Richard?  Yeah I know him.  Great guy.  Clyde was his dad, right?  Clyde was such a good man…” It never failed.  Happened every single time.  I hope I’m remembered like that one day.

And incidentally, even though I never met him personally, I feel like I know him by knowing Richard.  Because from what I’ve heard of him, his son is just like him.  I have a Keith Urban CD with a song on it called “Song for Dad.”  Here’s an excerpt from the lyrics:

In everything he ever did
He always did with love
And I’m proud today to say I’m his son
When somebody says I hope I get to meet your dad
I just smile and say you already have.

So yeah.  In a way, I already have.

So, anyway, back to the rainbow.

This morning, as I was driving to work in Clyde’s vehicle, I was thinking about all of this.  I was just feeling so grateful for having a way to get work, and was thinking about the huge amount of generosity that allowed for that.  Which made me remember another thing that I’ve heard about Richard’s dad.  Richard has always talked about how his dad was always so willing to help anyone who needed it.  And he would do these things quietly, without fanfare or recognition.  He just wanted to help.  As I remembered this, I realized that his legacy is still living on.  He’s helping me, someone he’s never even met – through his son.  He’s letting me borrow his car.  And he’s doing it quietly.  Without recognition.  Without fanfare.

Something about that thought made me feel better about using the vehicle like I am.  Rather than feeling like a burden, I feel like I’m helping a story to continue on like it should.  Make sense?

And I kid you not – the very moment that thought crossed my mind, I glanced up and there was this gorgeous rainbow stretching across the sky.  I mean it, it was absolutely beautiful.

Just a scientific coincidence?  Maybe.  Maybe it meant nothing at all.

But could it have been more than that?   A gentle agreeable “nod” from beyond?  A sign?

Yes.  Maybe it was.  At least I like to think so.

In fact, I like to think that signs like that are all around us a lot more often than we take the time to notice.  We just have to remember to keep looking up to see them.

***

“There’s a rainbow in the sky all the time – don’t be blind.”
– Ziggy Marley

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11

Apr. ’13

Fully Dressed

“The finest clothing made is a person’s own skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.”
– Mark Twain

Clothes.  *Sigh*

Ok, so I’ve decided that I’m missing a gene somewhere.  That gene that makes women get all excited and giddy about shopping and dressing up and looking cutesy and all that stuff?  Yeah, I don’t have that.  I’m not sure what happened.

Now, I’m not saying I’m a sloth or anything.  I’m generally clean and things somewhat match.  Somewhat.  But a fashion sense or style?  Psssssh.  What’s that?  If it fits, I put it on.  That’s about the extent of my “style.”  If anyone wants to nominate me for that “What Not To Wear” show, go for it.  I’m all in.  Just sayin.

Now honestly, I usually don’t even think about it that much.  Actually, I’m probably just too busy to think about it.  My days consist of so much activity that I’m lucky if I remember to put clothes on at all before I walk out the door.  So, most days, it’s really a non-issue.  Most days.

But then.  Then there are days like yesterday.

I unfortunately, yet again, found myself in the presence of someone who intimidates me.  Anyone else have someone like that?  Someone that when you’re around them, you just feel….I don’t know….small.  Uninteresting.  Boring.  Drab.  Dull.  Ok, I’m out of negative adjectives.  But you know what I mean, right?  They seem so classy and put together and perfect and…well, pretty.  Now, don’t get me wrong here.  I’m not generally an insecure person, especially when it comes to the looks department.  I mean, really….Who the heck cares?  But once in a while – once in a while – I guess I’m just human.  And yesterday was one of those days.  Which got me to thinking about this whole topic.

I came across this quote while I was researching for this blog:

dressblog2

My first reaction to this?  Well, crap.  But then….I don’t know.  I started thinking a little differently about it.  If my “style” says who I am without having to speak, then what am I telling people about who I actually am?  What am I saying?

And here’s what I’ve decided.

My hair is in a ponytail today. What does that say?  I hope it says that even though I actually woke up with the full intention of taking an early shower and spending time on straightening and styling my ‘do, instead I ended up spending a couple extra moments talking to Richard.  Discussing our plans for the day…talking about work…talking about our kids and the upcoming play, etc. etc. etc.  Before I knew it, time had flown by and I didn’t have time to do anything but throw my hair in a ponytail.

My fingernails aren’t manicured.  What does that say?  I hope it says that as a struggling single mom, spending money on manicures is a luxury that I can only occasionally afford.  And besides – my hands stay so busy that I’m not sure the manicure would last long anyway.  I keep my fingernails just long enough to scratch a child’s itchy back, peel a price tag off of a gift I’m wrapping, and “comb” my hair when I can’t find a brush in the clutter of my purse.

My shoes aren’t high heels.  They’re flat and functional.  What does that say?  Well, I hope it says that I stay too busy to worry about hurting feet.  I don’t have time to walk slowly in high heels when I have a million places to be.  I drive over an hour one way to my job, and then leave there to go pick up kids to take them to their various activities.  Or, on the days when they’re with their dad, I leave work and go running to train for my first half marathon that is coming up.  These runners’ feet can’t handle being in heels all day and then pounding pavement for a few hours afterwards during marathon training.

My clothes don’t have fancy labels.  What does that say?  I hope it says that I value simplicity and frugality.  That I know that there’s more to a person than the name sewn in at their neckline.  And I’m proud to say that this same value system has passed on to my kids.  While other kids are begging for name brand clothes, my kids rarely ask for new clothes and are thrilled when they get them – regardless of what store they came from.  At Christmas when they were given gift cards for clothes shopping, they both bragged about the amount of items they were able to buy within their spending budget by buying items that were on clearance, etc.  I think that’s something to be proud of.

Those are just a few examples.

So, like I said before – I’m not a sloth.  I’m clean, I’m neat, I’m functional.  But am I dressed to the nines on a daily basis?  Nope. Very rarely actually.  But rather than beating myself up over it, maybe I should realize that my “style” really does tell my story.

And you know what?

I think the story I’m telling might not be all that bad after all.

***

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly
They stand out a mile —
But Brother,
You’re never fully dressed
Without a smile!
Who cares what they’re wearing
On Main Street,
Or Saville Row,
It’s what you wear from ear to ear
And not from head to toe
(That matters)
– Fully Dressed lyrics (from Annie) 😉

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10

Apr. ’13

Sing Anyway

auditionblog

This idea has been on my mind pretty heavy for the past few days.

I was just at auditions for a play.  There are many people – mostly kids – who auditioned and will not get a role.  And that makes me sad, but it’s just the way it is.  When there are parts for 12 kids and 30+ show up for auditions, it’s inevitable that there will be some that won’t get roles.  And here’s what I wish I could tell the ones who didn’t get a role this time:

Don’t give up.  Try again.

And if you don’t get a role during the next show, try again the next time.  And the time after that.

Auditions remind me of the tests the kids have to take in school.  It’s one standardized test that every student has to take, regardless of their test-taking skills.  I have always been one of those kids that was an excellent test-taker.  I could cram that stuff in my brain just before time for the test, and then I would shine under pressure.  And my grades reflected that.  But there’s a problem with that.  Once the test was over, so was the knowledge.  I retained very, very little.

Now, on the other hand, you have the students who freeze when it’s time to take a test.  When it’s time to actually transfer the knowledge that they actually have in their brain to little filled-in circles on a test sheet, they panic.  It’s just too much pressure. Unlike the ones like me who crammed the knowledge in there 20 minutes prior to test time, these kids actually know this stuff.  And will probably be able to apply it better later in life than the excellent test takers like myself.  And yet – they are the ones who are deemed “failures” because of a score on a test.  So unfair.  But what’s the solution?  What’s the answer to this problem?  You got me.

Which brings me back to these auditions.

I know there were kids who were probably phenomenal singers and actors, but being up there trying to present yourself in front of a room full of people and beg them to like you…that’s some seriously scary stuff.  Your best self may not exactly show through the fear.  But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.  It is.  You just have to keep trying.  Try, try, try.  Over and over again.  Eventually, who you are will bust through the fear and everyone will be able to see what was in there all along.  If you want something – truly want something – you will make it happen.

And aside from that – sometimes, especially in theatre, whether or not you’re chosen for something may actually have little to do with your ability at all.  Sometimes it’s that you weren’t the right look for the part.  Maybe not the right height.  Maybe not the right hair color.  Etc. etc. etc.  There are SO many factors in choosing a role in a theatre show.  DO NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY!  Just get up, dust yourself off, and show up again the next time.  Next time you might be exactly what they were looking for.

I’ll use my daughter as an example here.  She hesitantly auditioned for the last show at this theatre.  She was terrified, but she got up there and gave it her all anyway.  And did she get the role?  Nope.  Not because she wasn’t “good enough.”  Not by any means.  She just wasn’t the right age for the part.  But she tried anyway.  And when she didn’t get the role, she graciously offered to help backstage (and did an excellent job I might add).  She handled it with grace and didn’t take it personally.  (Yet another reason why I want to be like her when I grow up.)  And then, with that “rejection” filed away in the past, she got up and tried again.  She auditioned for Annie, hoping to get a small role somewhere, and walked away with the lead.  She’s Annie.  Just like that.  She went from not getting a role at all in the last show to getting the lead in this one.  That’s how things work, people.  It’s a fickle business, this acting stuff.

Kind of like life, ya know?

If it didn’t work this time, that doesn’t mean it will never work.  Now may just not have been the right time.  For a variety of reasons.  But don’t let it stop you!  Get up, and try again.

[I’ll interrupt here with a link to an interesting story of a theatre rejection I received once, and the director’s response years later to that rejection. Interesting stuff if you get a chance to take a look. Be sure you read the comment section too – that’s where the good stuff is.]

So back to the point.  Yes – try again.  Again and again and again.  If you want it, it will happen.  You may not be the “best” singer, the “best” actor, the “best” whatever.  There’s always going to be someone who can do something “better” than you can.  That’s just life.  But that’s not the point.  As Henry van Dyke put it, “Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.”  The point is to do what you can do, and do it loud and proud.

And one day, you will be heard.  I promise.

***
You can pour your soul out singin’
A song you believe in
Then tomorrow they’ll forget you ever sang.
Sing it anyway
– Martina McBride
(lyrics to Do It Anyway)

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09

Apr. ’13

Back in the Saddle

longrunpic3

Today I decided not to be a wimp.

For the past five days since my accident, I’ve been moping and whining thinking that I’m not going to be able to run again anytime soon.  Now, yes, I know running should be the last thing on my mind after what I went through.  But the fact is, it’s just not.  It’s very much in the forefront of my mind.  Running has been my best friend for a while.  Call me crazy, I don’t care.  But that’s just a fact.  When everything around me was changing, running was always there to turn to.  Friends came and went, circumstances changed sometimes at the drop of a hat, family emergencies took place, etc. etc.  But still.  There was running.  My old pal, my old confidant.  It never left me.

So, to feel like it was going to be gone for a while made me pretty sad.  Almost depressed even.

Especially given that this happened right in the middle of my half marathon training.  As most of you know (since I mention it every other breath), I have my first half marathon scheduled for May 4.  That’s 25 days away.  I mean, if I were counting.  But I’m not.  Because ya know.  It’s no biggie or anything….

MY FIRST HALF MARATHON IS 25 DAYS AWAY!  AHHH!

And here I am sitting around missing valuable training days because of a dumb ol’ accident.

Well, today, I decided I’m not having that anymore.

Now, I was careful, mind you.  I’m wasn’t going to jump back out there and run 10 miles again like I ran last week.  But I did jump back out there.  And I ran 3.5 miles.  And I’m pretty darn proud of myself, even if I do say so.  Man, it felt good.  And I even did it on my lunch break from work.  Even better.

As I ran, one of my favorite “I am woman, hear me roar” running songs came on my playlist, and the lyrics stood out to me more today than ever before.  The song is Survivor by Destiny’s Child:

I’m a survivor
I’m not gonna give up
I’m not gonna stop
I’m gonna work harder
I’m a survivor
I’m gonna make it
I will survive
Keep on survivin’

You dang right.  This girl is a survivor.  Has been before, will be today, and will be tomorrow.  That’s just all there is to it.

Today will be known as my “back in the saddle” day.

May 4 half marathon, here I come.

***

“I run because it’s so symbolic of life. You have to drive yourself to overcome the obstacles. You might feel that you can’t. But then you find your inner strength, and realize you’re capable of so much more than you thought.”
– Arthur Blank

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