The Best Way to Heal is to Help

When I first set out to write this blog it started because of a wound that was very deep, but very few people could see it. No matter how hard I tried to cover it up, the temporary bandages didn’t seem to be working.

There are bruises we can see, and there are bruises we can’t. It’s the latter that are the most common and the least talked about. 

When I set out to get the frump out of my rump, I didn’t realize that it came with the shedding of the source of my “frumpage.” 

The truth of the matter is that I didn’t realize I was being hurt until I wasn’t being hurt anymore.

It’s been a struggle, almost daily, these past several months trying to figure out if there’s a story to tell. If I was alone, and if I wasn’t, could others need to be helped. If they needed to be helped, how can I do that? 

It’s clear, as I write this, that the pain still exists. Some of the wounds have healed, but it’s an ongoing process. 

I heal when I can fit into that little black dress and am confident to wear it.

I heal when I am not afraid, or bothered by the possibility of enjoying tea alone.

There are other moments I heal. 

But, the biggest is finding ways to help. Would you be willing to help me help others? 

We All Have Little Girl Dreams of Making it Big

UPDATED: April 7, 2011


Ok, so I wrote this post last night after watching "American Idol." Then, without anticipating it, a person who seemed to be just about everyone's favorite, Pia Toscano, was eliminated on Thursday night. Clearly, she is in a caliber of her own and does not need a show like "American Idol" to be successful. 


Even though I participated in the "I'm outraged" and "what just happened" reaction, I do believe that she, just like every little girl (and boy) who tries to do what they believe they can do, is already a winner. 


Now a question for you, what is it that you really want to do? What's stopping you? 


ORIGINAL POST BELOW: 


Thanks to Charlie Sheen winning seems to be everything these days.

It’s not about winning, though. It’s about trying. It’s about getting up after falling down. It’s about trying that dance move one more time. It’s about wearing that ballerina outfit even though you think you look like a marshmallow when you’re wearing it. It’s about singing country, if you’re a little bit country, instead of singing rock ‘n roll. 

Just saying.

When I was about 7, I was in a little dance troupe. I was in a class called “intermediate jazz.” I wasn’t reformed enough for the ballet. I was way to attention-deficit for that, and not quite coordinated enough for tap (as much as I wanted to be). I had these small-town, big-girl dreams of making it big. 

Our dance teacher decided we would be dancing our final number to “A Spoonful of Sugar” from Mary Poppins. Little did any of us know then that a spoonful of sugar made me dangle from the chandeliers and not dance. 

I can still remember holding hands with the other members of our all-girl group as we wore these checkered red and white leotard outfits with frilly white things attached to them and sparkling red hats. We skipped are way to the right, and then around, in a circle. Then there was something about “jazz hands.”

Courtesy: franticmeerkat.com

Apparently, if you spread your hands open really wide you can feel the energy coming out of your fingertips. I think it was just the blood freaking out about which way to travel.

Somewhere, in the home archives, and not in this house, my parents have a picture of me in that dorky little outfit. Man, I thought I was something else. And, like almost every 7 year old girl, I knew, I was going to be a star. 

23 years later, all I an say to that is just dance. Lady Gaga got that right. Just dance. 

And, in the words of my eighth grade language arts and social studies teacher, to my friends, and to those who try, “You’ll always be famous to me.”

It’s not about winning. It’s about believing. 

It’s not about being famous, or even trying.

It’s about being you. Red and white checkered leotard with frilly white thing, and all. 

I'm Asking You: What Do You Look Forward To?

Let’s make this one brief.

The other week I wrote about looking forward by looking into my rearview mirror. You know, seeing my future through my past? Or, looking at my past as I’m moving forward.

Right now, I’m looking at one month from today, or by the time this is posted, yesterday.

May 2, 2011 will mark a new beginning for me. I’ll be seeing the world with new eyes. It’s significant on many levels, but mundane on many. I’ll have seen people I enjoy and really am counting moments to have just a moment or two with them. I’ll also have finished my Master’s program at Boston University. Then, on May 3, 2011, I’ll be “free.” I think anyway.

Then of course I know I'll have to do my laundry more often and keep my house more clean, but that OK. I'll have the cat do it. (Insert smile here.) 

Here’s a question:

What do you look forward to? What do you want to be “free” of? And who do you just want to sit down and have a moment or two with? What will you do? 

I'm Wearing My Astronaut Shoes

“Today, I’m wearing my astronaut shoes.”

When I was entering first grade, my Mom was a teacher at my elementary school. I attended Badger Mountain Elementary School in Richland, Washington. My Dad was a newspaper editor at The Tri-City Herald. 

I took the bus to school. It was Dad’s responsibility to make sure I got my shoes and socks on real tight before walking to the bus stop. 

He would show me how to tie the knot and ask, “What kind of shoes are you wearing today?”

“Daddy, these are princess shoes!”

Or, maybe, “These are my astronaut shoes.” 

My Dad instilled in me at the very beginning of my explorative years that even if something was in my imagination, I could attain it as a goal or as a career or even a hobby. 

Imagination turns into dreams and dreams turned into stories.

Years later, in middle school and high school, while living in Southern California, Dad would drive me to school. I would proceed to tell him my dreams, my literal dreams from the night before, and my interpretations of them. 

“Daddy, I dream in color,” I would say. “There’s a regular cast, you know, like a sitcom, and sometimes there are guest stars.” Sometimes, there would be credits. 

As a 30-something, I still have an imagination, and I still have dreams. At this moment, the dreams I refer to are the ones in which date back to those early imaginative moments of being a princess, a construction worker was one, and an astronaut.

Each one of those childlike dreams involve something that unites all of us, the desire to create, the desire to learn, and the desire to really enjoy everything that we’re doing. 

These days my dreams are more universal and goal-oriented. Whether it is to write a screenplay, produce a documentary, volunteer for a charity, own a winery, or to just raise a wonderful family, they are my dreams. 

Dreams. 

They are about exploring unpaved paths, uneven roads, and in more profound moments, unjustified injustice. 

Today, I am wearing my astronaut shoes. What shoes are you wearing?