Monday, July 8, 2013
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Love Personified - Happy Valentines!!!
Every year I take the opportunity to talk with my 4th grade students about love on Valentine's Day! I always feel as though I learn more from the things they tell me than the other way around. We talk about what love IS and what it ISN'T how we show love, and how we earn it. This year, since we are learning about the device of Personification (giving human qualities to non-living things) I had the students work with me on personifying "Love" itself. I was floored and amused, humbled and moved by their ideas about love. I think we could all learn a little something here. So here you have it, some of my favorite's from our day of personifying LOVE!
Mrs. Halliday's 4th Graders have this to say about LOVE:
Love snuck up on me.
Love gives you the cream in the middle of the oreo because you love that part.
Love stops to help you, even when in a rush.
Love makes time for you.
Love says, “I forgive you”, before you’ve even said “I’m sorry.”
Love holds on tightly when you’re afraid of falling.
Love just understands.
Love knows what you’re trying to say, when its hard for you to say it, so you don’t have to finish the words.
Love believes in you when nobody else can.
In a hug, love is the last one to let go.
Love tickles your feet when you’re upset.
Love teaches you things you didn’t know you didn’t know.
Love lets you pick anything you want from the candy aisle at the grocery store.
Love whispers good things in your ear when mean people are talking at you.
Love takes the time to understand why you feel the way you feel.
Love helps you wash the dishes even though its your turn.
Love strokes your hair until your eyes get heavy again after you’ve had a bad dream.
When love looks at you, you feel pretty and smart.
Love sits beside you when you’re feeling lonely.
Love cares about all of your favorites.
Love carries all your heavy stuff.
Love stops everything to make you feel important.
Love gets you even when you're being weird or annoying.
Love keeps asking what’s wrong until you tell the truth about it.
Love never gives up, even when everyone says “you should really give up!”
Love feels happy when you feel happy because Love just loves to see you smile.
Mrs. Halliday's 4th Graders have this to say about LOVE:
Love snuck up on me.
Love gives you the cream in the middle of the oreo because you love that part.
Love stops to help you, even when in a rush.
Love makes time for you.
Love says, “I forgive you”, before you’ve even said “I’m sorry.”
Love holds on tightly when you’re afraid of falling.
Love just understands.
Love knows what you’re trying to say, when its hard for you to say it, so you don’t have to finish the words.
Love believes in you when nobody else can.
In a hug, love is the last one to let go.
Love tickles your feet when you’re upset.
Love teaches you things you didn’t know you didn’t know.
Love lets you pick anything you want from the candy aisle at the grocery store.
Love whispers good things in your ear when mean people are talking at you.
Love takes the time to understand why you feel the way you feel.
Love helps you wash the dishes even though its your turn.
Love strokes your hair until your eyes get heavy again after you’ve had a bad dream.
When love looks at you, you feel pretty and smart.
Love sits beside you when you’re feeling lonely.
Love cares about all of your favorites.
Love carries all your heavy stuff.
Love stops everything to make you feel important.
Love gets you even when you're being weird or annoying.
Love keeps asking what’s wrong until you tell the truth about it.
Love never gives up, even when everyone says “you should really give up!”
Love feels happy when you feel happy because Love just loves to see you smile.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A decade of lessons learned the hard way, or what I know at almost 30, that I didn’t know when I was 20.
Of course, I understand that in order to get to where I am right now, I needed to go through some things, sort through some things, and figure things out at what seems at times to be a ridiculously sluggish, painfully slow pace...and yet, I can’t help wondering where I’d be today if I only “knew then, what I know now”...just typing those words makes me sound ancient, and yet, despite my natural fear of growing old (I’m not talking 30 here, I’m talking geriatric phases that I wouldn’t dare ascribe a number to in writing), I wear the wisdom (the little I’ve acquired) that comes with age proudly (simultaneously, I humbly acknowledge that I have so much more to learn.)
If I could go back and tell my 20 year old self a few things to make the last decade go a little more smoothly, these are the 15 that come to mind as the most important things I’ve learned along the way:
-People matter. More than things, more than tasks, more than ideas. Treat them that way, and let the ones who matter most, know that they do while you still have them around.
-You have two choices. You either help people understand you as only YOU can, or accept being misunderstood. There really is no in between, and not every relationship is worth the time and effort that it will take to acquire the former (so cherish and be patient with the ones that are willing to learn), and sometimes you’ll have to learn to relish the latter...instead of feeling misunderstood, think of it as being mysterious :)
-There is equal pleasure to be found in crowds and solitude. Balance them. Learn from others but realize that audible voices are not the only ones worth listening to.
-There are a million things in this life that you will really really WANT but will have to let go of and a few things that you really really NEED but will find hard to hold on to. When you come across the first kind, open your fingers and accept that we’re not meant to have our every whim. When you come across the second, be relentless, and steadfast in your grip, and grateful that it came into your hands to begin with.
- Everyone has a story that they want to tell someone. If it turns out that you are that someone, listen without judgement and realize that you’ve just been given a gift, what can you learn from it? (*note: give yourself extra time at the grocery store, you will get a lot of stories from people here for some strange reason)
-”First do no harm” is not just for doctors. Hurt no one intentionally, right your wrongs when you can, and resist the urge to match or exceed the hurts done to you. No good can come from vengeance.
-You are by your very nature a little bit meddlesome, supremely wordy, over-analytical, something of a control-freak, and have addictive tendancies. Quit fighting these things and harness the power of your weaknesses. Meddle only where you can do good, or bring clarity or in acts of sincere charity. Use your words to build up and affirm the people who deserve and need to hear them. Analyze situations, people, and use your perception to make good decisions, give good advice, know when to stick around and when to run for the hills! Control yourself and steer your life in a way that is purposeful. Allow yourself to become addicted only to things that will bring health...like loving, giving, laughter, acts of kindness and...exercise!
-When how you look matters least to you, is about the time you’ll start hearing people say you look better than you ever have. Its a cruel world baby...that’s just the way these things seem to work. You’re never gonna look like you think you should, and you’ll always look back at how you looked now and be confused by how hard you were on yourself.
-You are your own worst (and most of the time ONLY) enemy. I know its hard to wrap your brain around that, but the sooner you do the better off you’ll be!
-Pain means something is wrong...if you listened to your body more closely you’d avoid a lot of trauma...and Connor would have gotten to be baby Jesus in Aunt Ginny’s Christmas pageant!!!
-Don’t try to cover your freckles. Their your birth-right and one day you’ll be sad to notice they are fading.
-Embrace your history, appreciate your family, the past makes up about half of who you are, you decide on the rest.
-Don’t waste too much time looking ahead, trying to predict what’s coming, or hoping for the next best thing. See what’s right in front of you, understand that you’ll never see the best or worst coming so there’s no sense looking for it, find the perfection in every moment...its there, in time you’ll hardly have to look for it anymore.
-Stop being so scared. There’s some rough stuff coming, but you’re not alone and you’re stronger than you think.
-Embrace the dork...you’re only cool when you’re having fun and being you..and “cool” is relative...fun is fun!
-Buy Apple Stock...when you’re 30 you’ll thank me!
Monday, July 4, 2011
A Booby Trapped Life
Somewhere along the line, we all realize that life is full of surprises. Many of these surprises are wonderful ones, the kind that fill your heart to overflowing and make you feel like someone has just put the candle in your Jack-O-Lantern to light you from the inside. Unfortunately though, this life has less desirable surprises in store for us as well: foiled plans, gloomy weather, sudden separations, unexpected loss, bad news, bad hair and traffic! It is these less desirable surprises that have us looking over our shoulders, and walking around haunched over to keep ourselves protected from the blows. I always feel sad when I hear someone profess “I hate surprises!” (Warning: I also feel the inclination to change that notion by providing that person with as many happy surprises as I can think of) because I really feel that our preferences are generally a result of our experiences, and so a person who hates surprises has probably had too many unpleasant ones. In any case, I am ever learning and working toward accepting the fact that much of this life is out of my control, but I am determined to be proactive and engaged in the parts that I can control. Happiness, however illusive and fleeting for some, seems to me to be among these semi-controllable things. Enter the idea of booby-trapping one’s own life with happy surprises. If this sounds completely crazy to you, you might as well stop reading because I assure you, I am about to get weirder! If however, you are intrigued by this idea of proactive happiness prompting, read on, and feel free to steal these ideas to booby trap your own existence and that of the ones you love most!
1) Show me the money!:
This is probably the most widely-known of my traps among my friends and family, and has gained me much chastisement from my frugal husband who believes very strongly in the bank system. However, it works for me, and so I shall continue. The idea is simple. Before I put away my winter coats for the warmer months, I put whatever cash I can find into the pockets, and forget about it. When the cold rolls around and I put my hands into those toasty pockets for the first time, I am pleasantly surprised (yes I do manage to feel surprised even though I do this regularly)! Added happiness factor: share the wealth, with the $20 I found in my black pea-coat this year, I treated some friends to Starbucks which made my trap even more successful! Also, try shoving some green in the pockets of things before you donate them, make someone else’s day a little brighter!
2) When you’re in a good place, write notes to yourself for when you’re in a not-so-good-place:
This one I started when I was about 6 years old. I had made myself so sick about my yearly check-up and corresponding booster shots that I could think of nothing else. When the big moment actually came, and the shot was over, I was a little disgusted with myself. I mean, I wasted an entire day of childhood bliss worrying about a 2 second pinch in the arm!!! I went home and wrote my future self a note. I don’t remember the note verbatim, but it went something like “Dear 7 year old Chrissy, don’t be such a big baby next time, the shot is no big deal! Have fun with your friends, eat your lunch, and when the moment comes, close your eyes and think about space camp!” This habit stuck and has since evolved to more adult situations. Now, after I feel I’ve successfully gotten through something, I will often write my future self a note of memorandum and advice.
3.)Bubble Wrap:
This one has to be personalized to your particular “bright spots”. We all have them, those simple pleasures that provide us with a giddy moment in our everyday lives. I myself have many such pleasures, ranging from the wielding of a gravity hammer in Halo Reach to popping the bubble wrap that comes in packages. My bright spots are the things that always make me smile despite myself. When I was young, my mom always saved me the bubble wrap from her packages at work. I kept strips of it under my bed to pop when I needed a moment of bliss. Now I still keep bubble wrap tucked away in drawers in my kitchen. This morning, my children found my stash and we paraded around on our bubble wrap dance floor with Lady Gaga singing our praises! I’ll have to restock on bubble wrap, but I’m not too worried, I keep plenty of things on hand to that same end. A book of Pablo Neruda poems and a blanket will bring me to a happy place in my backyard, a slow whiff of the coppertone sun screen I keep in my desk drawer at work never fails to capture sunshine for me and make me smile, and juicy fruit gum transports me to lazy summers spent with my cousins at Breezy Point. I keep these things on hand and have no shame depending on them when there’s a need!
4.)Play it loud:
This one is not for everyone, but I have an ever-rotating playlist of some of my favorite feel-good songs of the moment. This list is on all of my electronic devices (Thank you itunes) and I even burn CD’s of it to keep in my car. Make the list, update it often, name it something silly, find the list, set it in motion, and play it loud! For me this is most effective in the car, sunroof open, windows down, open road!
5.) No man is an island:
Jon Bonjovi had it right. No man, or woman is an island. We need each other, we make each other better, and the best way to booby trap your life with happiness is to cultivate relationships that make you happy. I have been fortunate enough in my life to have many such people, the ones who make me happy just by being exactly who they are! A chat with a family member or friend never fails to bring me some good surprises...like I’m surprised how much I love yet ANOTHER thing about you!
6.) Think ahead:
The other night I was out with one of my best girlfriends. We were finding a parking spot in a downtown garage and planning to spend the next few hours appreciating the art scene of our city (already a happiness booby trap just having this night on my calendar!) As we passed many open spots in the garage I kept driving (despite my friends confusion) until we got to the rooftop parking. Of course she asked me why on earth we were parking all the way on the roof when there were so many perfectly acceptable spots down below, so I let her in on my secret. Although we were parking in the daylight, by the time we got back to our car we would have a clear and up close view of the night sky, and the city (gargoyles and all) all lit up for the night... a beautiful and happiness-inducing end to a great night!
7.) Pay it forward:
My absolute favorite happiness inducer is booby trapping the lives of the people I love! Leaving a note, sending a quick message, picking up a thoughtful gift, taking over a dreaded chore...really any of the things you do to booby trap your life can be done for someone else...so pay it forward! Spread the love around, and make the world a happier place-Added bonus, this is like a boomerang, the more happiness you CAUSE the more happiness you FEEL! <3
1) Show me the money!:
This is probably the most widely-known of my traps among my friends and family, and has gained me much chastisement from my frugal husband who believes very strongly in the bank system. However, it works for me, and so I shall continue. The idea is simple. Before I put away my winter coats for the warmer months, I put whatever cash I can find into the pockets, and forget about it. When the cold rolls around and I put my hands into those toasty pockets for the first time, I am pleasantly surprised (yes I do manage to feel surprised even though I do this regularly)! Added happiness factor: share the wealth, with the $20 I found in my black pea-coat this year, I treated some friends to Starbucks which made my trap even more successful! Also, try shoving some green in the pockets of things before you donate them, make someone else’s day a little brighter!
2) When you’re in a good place, write notes to yourself for when you’re in a not-so-good-place:
This one I started when I was about 6 years old. I had made myself so sick about my yearly check-up and corresponding booster shots that I could think of nothing else. When the big moment actually came, and the shot was over, I was a little disgusted with myself. I mean, I wasted an entire day of childhood bliss worrying about a 2 second pinch in the arm!!! I went home and wrote my future self a note. I don’t remember the note verbatim, but it went something like “Dear 7 year old Chrissy, don’t be such a big baby next time, the shot is no big deal! Have fun with your friends, eat your lunch, and when the moment comes, close your eyes and think about space camp!” This habit stuck and has since evolved to more adult situations. Now, after I feel I’ve successfully gotten through something, I will often write my future self a note of memorandum and advice.
3.)Bubble Wrap:
This one has to be personalized to your particular “bright spots”. We all have them, those simple pleasures that provide us with a giddy moment in our everyday lives. I myself have many such pleasures, ranging from the wielding of a gravity hammer in Halo Reach to popping the bubble wrap that comes in packages. My bright spots are the things that always make me smile despite myself. When I was young, my mom always saved me the bubble wrap from her packages at work. I kept strips of it under my bed to pop when I needed a moment of bliss. Now I still keep bubble wrap tucked away in drawers in my kitchen. This morning, my children found my stash and we paraded around on our bubble wrap dance floor with Lady Gaga singing our praises! I’ll have to restock on bubble wrap, but I’m not too worried, I keep plenty of things on hand to that same end. A book of Pablo Neruda poems and a blanket will bring me to a happy place in my backyard, a slow whiff of the coppertone sun screen I keep in my desk drawer at work never fails to capture sunshine for me and make me smile, and juicy fruit gum transports me to lazy summers spent with my cousins at Breezy Point. I keep these things on hand and have no shame depending on them when there’s a need!
4.)Play it loud:
This one is not for everyone, but I have an ever-rotating playlist of some of my favorite feel-good songs of the moment. This list is on all of my electronic devices (Thank you itunes) and I even burn CD’s of it to keep in my car. Make the list, update it often, name it something silly, find the list, set it in motion, and play it loud! For me this is most effective in the car, sunroof open, windows down, open road!
5.) No man is an island:
Jon Bonjovi had it right. No man, or woman is an island. We need each other, we make each other better, and the best way to booby trap your life with happiness is to cultivate relationships that make you happy. I have been fortunate enough in my life to have many such people, the ones who make me happy just by being exactly who they are! A chat with a family member or friend never fails to bring me some good surprises...like I’m surprised how much I love yet ANOTHER thing about you!
6.) Think ahead:
The other night I was out with one of my best girlfriends. We were finding a parking spot in a downtown garage and planning to spend the next few hours appreciating the art scene of our city (already a happiness booby trap just having this night on my calendar!) As we passed many open spots in the garage I kept driving (despite my friends confusion) until we got to the rooftop parking. Of course she asked me why on earth we were parking all the way on the roof when there were so many perfectly acceptable spots down below, so I let her in on my secret. Although we were parking in the daylight, by the time we got back to our car we would have a clear and up close view of the night sky, and the city (gargoyles and all) all lit up for the night... a beautiful and happiness-inducing end to a great night!
7.) Pay it forward:
My absolute favorite happiness inducer is booby trapping the lives of the people I love! Leaving a note, sending a quick message, picking up a thoughtful gift, taking over a dreaded chore...really any of the things you do to booby trap your life can be done for someone else...so pay it forward! Spread the love around, and make the world a happier place-Added bonus, this is like a boomerang, the more happiness you CAUSE the more happiness you FEEL! <3
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Ode To Summer
lots of unfinished thoughts in the blog doc- but here's one I could actually complete- an ode to summer on this the first day!
Ode To Summer:
Here’s to summer!
To slow morning cups of coffee,
the boost of my engine as it catches up with my foot on the gas pedal,
To soft, cotton, dresses with pockets,
long walks to no where in particular,
Open-air farmers markets,
ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles from the truck,
open-toed shoes,
no dress code,
new freckles,
old friends,
pink cheeks,
catching fireflies,
catching up,
making wishes,
watching stars.
Here’s to summer,
late nights talking,
quiet hours remembering,
stolen minutes sorting out life,
figuring it out,
changing your mind, starting fresh tomorrow.
Here’s to summer,
spontaneous gatherings,
well-laid plans,
sand under feet,
fresh cut grass.
Here’s to summer,
ice clinking in glasses,
kids giggling and running,
shimmering water,
tanlines.
Here’s to summer,
music pumping,
shoulders shimmying,
lights glimmering,
loved-ones laughing.
Here’s to summer,
to time-
time to share,
time to spare,
time to move,
time to improve,
time to listen,
time to drown-it-out.
Here’s to summer,
for all that you are
all that you may be,
is all that we make you!
Ode To Summer:
Here’s to summer!
To slow morning cups of coffee,
the boost of my engine as it catches up with my foot on the gas pedal,
To soft, cotton, dresses with pockets,
long walks to no where in particular,
Open-air farmers markets,
ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles from the truck,
open-toed shoes,
no dress code,
new freckles,
old friends,
pink cheeks,
catching fireflies,
catching up,
making wishes,
watching stars.
Here’s to summer,
late nights talking,
quiet hours remembering,
stolen minutes sorting out life,
figuring it out,
changing your mind, starting fresh tomorrow.
Here’s to summer,
spontaneous gatherings,
well-laid plans,
sand under feet,
fresh cut grass.
Here’s to summer,
ice clinking in glasses,
kids giggling and running,
shimmering water,
tanlines.
Here’s to summer,
music pumping,
shoulders shimmying,
lights glimmering,
loved-ones laughing.
Here’s to summer,
to time-
time to share,
time to spare,
time to move,
time to improve,
time to listen,
time to drown-it-out.
Here’s to summer,
for all that you are
all that you may be,
is all that we make you!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Harold and The Purple Crayon (A Sequel)
For Alana who wondered what happened to Harold when he grew up or his crayon ran out.
And for my fourth graders who will be writing story sequels this week, and drawing their own paths in the years to come.
Sequel: Harold and the Purple Crayon
Harold continued drawing his world the way he wanted it to be for a long time. One day, a grown-up Harold looked down at his purple crayon and realized that it was almost all used up. Soon there would be nothing left of it at all, and he realized that a decision had to be made. He took his shard of purple crayon and tucked it lovingly into his pants pocket. He patted it twice to reassure himself, and then he lifted his arms up over his head, grabbed a hold of the white wall around his purple bed and ripped the wall down. The paper crumbled under his grasp, and soon he was surrounded by a lifetime of purple drawings shredded at his feet while he stood in his actual bedroom by the light of his actual window. He climbed out.
It’s a strange thing to see the world the way it actually is after years of drawing it the way you wanted it to be.
Harold was wonderstruck.
It was the color mostly. Of course there was purple, he noticed that first as it washed across the expanse of sky, but the sun was a brilliant infusion of orange, yellow, and red, colors he hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime. He stood entranced and engulfed in the warmth that his purple sun could never provide. He felt assured that he had made the right choice.
He walked on down a road that he did not draw, and enjoyed the mystery of where it might lead him. The loneliness he had known for so long seemed to fade as other travelers (some going his way, some going their own) passed by him on the winding road.
He made friends, smelled flowers, got lost, found his way. He saw things he would never have thought to draw, and felt things that even his best purple crayon scribblings could never have allowed him to feel. He was alive and aware, intrigued and inspired, he was happy...except when he wasn’t.
Sometimes, this actual world made Harold want to run back to his paper fantasy and hide. The faces he met in this world were not always smiling, the mysteries he encountered weren’t always solvable, and there were still waves that wanted to swallow him but no purple boat to rescue him from their grasp.
He thumbed the waxy piece of crayon in his pocket and wished that he could use it here, wished that he didn’t have to choose just one way to be Harold. If only his purple crayon could change sad eyes to happy ones, darkness to light, confusion to understanding. He decided that things had been less complicated when he was the author and illustrator of every part of his own story, and he sat up one night under the light of the real moon, contemplating covering his walls and window with paper once again.
While he thought, he doodled with his crayon a picture of all the things in this real-world that he would miss most of all, when he was finished, his drawing looked a lot like a family. He realized that this family he had drawn was not real, was not his and although he could draw them near to him, and smiling he couldn’t make them exist. The sun shining over them could never bring them actual warmth, the holding hands he illustrated could never bring him true comfort, the kind eyes he drew could never give him sincere counsel, could never shine with pride or recognition, could never fill the empty space that he would know if he left the real world behind.
Harold felt helpless.
He knew he couldn’t live happily in a world that wasn’t real, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to face the unpredictability and disappointment of a world that was. He twirled his crayon between his fingers for a long time, and then he got up.
Methodically he spread his white paper all across his bedroom floor in a line. At the one end he drew the world the way it was, and at the other end he drew it the way he wished it could be. In between the two he drew a bumpy, winding, twisting path. Along the path he drew himself making his way as best as he could, and then with his last millimeter of purple crayon he drew you, because he knew he’d need your help to get to where he was going. He folded up his plan, tucked it into his pocket where his purple crayon had been, and stepped out into the sun.
And for my fourth graders who will be writing story sequels this week, and drawing their own paths in the years to come.
Sequel: Harold and the Purple Crayon
Harold continued drawing his world the way he wanted it to be for a long time. One day, a grown-up Harold looked down at his purple crayon and realized that it was almost all used up. Soon there would be nothing left of it at all, and he realized that a decision had to be made. He took his shard of purple crayon and tucked it lovingly into his pants pocket. He patted it twice to reassure himself, and then he lifted his arms up over his head, grabbed a hold of the white wall around his purple bed and ripped the wall down. The paper crumbled under his grasp, and soon he was surrounded by a lifetime of purple drawings shredded at his feet while he stood in his actual bedroom by the light of his actual window. He climbed out.
It’s a strange thing to see the world the way it actually is after years of drawing it the way you wanted it to be.
Harold was wonderstruck.
It was the color mostly. Of course there was purple, he noticed that first as it washed across the expanse of sky, but the sun was a brilliant infusion of orange, yellow, and red, colors he hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime. He stood entranced and engulfed in the warmth that his purple sun could never provide. He felt assured that he had made the right choice.
He walked on down a road that he did not draw, and enjoyed the mystery of where it might lead him. The loneliness he had known for so long seemed to fade as other travelers (some going his way, some going their own) passed by him on the winding road.
He made friends, smelled flowers, got lost, found his way. He saw things he would never have thought to draw, and felt things that even his best purple crayon scribblings could never have allowed him to feel. He was alive and aware, intrigued and inspired, he was happy...except when he wasn’t.
Sometimes, this actual world made Harold want to run back to his paper fantasy and hide. The faces he met in this world were not always smiling, the mysteries he encountered weren’t always solvable, and there were still waves that wanted to swallow him but no purple boat to rescue him from their grasp.
He thumbed the waxy piece of crayon in his pocket and wished that he could use it here, wished that he didn’t have to choose just one way to be Harold. If only his purple crayon could change sad eyes to happy ones, darkness to light, confusion to understanding. He decided that things had been less complicated when he was the author and illustrator of every part of his own story, and he sat up one night under the light of the real moon, contemplating covering his walls and window with paper once again.
While he thought, he doodled with his crayon a picture of all the things in this real-world that he would miss most of all, when he was finished, his drawing looked a lot like a family. He realized that this family he had drawn was not real, was not his and although he could draw them near to him, and smiling he couldn’t make them exist. The sun shining over them could never bring them actual warmth, the holding hands he illustrated could never bring him true comfort, the kind eyes he drew could never give him sincere counsel, could never shine with pride or recognition, could never fill the empty space that he would know if he left the real world behind.
Harold felt helpless.
He knew he couldn’t live happily in a world that wasn’t real, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to face the unpredictability and disappointment of a world that was. He twirled his crayon between his fingers for a long time, and then he got up.
Methodically he spread his white paper all across his bedroom floor in a line. At the one end he drew the world the way it was, and at the other end he drew it the way he wished it could be. In between the two he drew a bumpy, winding, twisting path. Along the path he drew himself making his way as best as he could, and then with his last millimeter of purple crayon he drew you, because he knew he’d need your help to get to where he was going. He folded up his plan, tucked it into his pocket where his purple crayon had been, and stepped out into the sun.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Generic History Of Love and Loss and Fear and Hope
You know what's wrong with you...You're chicken. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact.' People DO fall in love. People do belong to each other. Because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, yet you're terrified that somebody's gonna put you in a cage. Well, baby, you're already in a cage and you built it yourself. And it's not bound on the east by Somali Land or on the west by Tulip, Texas. It's everywhere you go. Because no matter where you run, you're always going to end up running into yourself.
-Breakfast at Tiffany's
This is not a sad story.
When you were born, you were a clean slate. A perfect creature, with nothing but possibility on your shoulders. As you grew and changed, the world around you was changing too. The life that would be yours was being decided by broken hearted grown ups that loved you with each jagged piece. You didn’t know. You didn’t understand any of it. So you sang happily and when you learned to straighten your legs and coerce them into making you mobile, you went everywhere those little legs took you with your arms wide open and a light in your eyes. You loved everything you saw and every day was new. Do you remember that time? You don’t. You can’t. But you’ve seen the evidence in aged pictures and home movies. You know it was so.
As time passed, the framework for how you would view the world started to take shape, one event at a time. The first time you realized that you loved a place was the time you drove away from it in a moving van. The first time you realized you loved a thing was when it didn’t belong to you anymore, the first time you realized you loved a friend was the day after she moved away, and the first time you realized you loved a boy, was when you knew he couldn’t love you back. Nothing new here, just life, and so you close your arms just a little, but still move through the world generally unscathed. After all, that hope that was in you on the first day you took breath is still there, its been cultivated by the ones who loved you and worked hard to make sure that you knew it. As you continue to grow though, the changes get bigger, the gaps between you and the rest of the world seem more evident, the hurts heal slower and the scars run into each other. The questions come. You wonder if you’re doing “it” right. You meet people who walk through the world with their arms closed tightly to their chests, you wonder if they are less scarred. You rage against the notion. You go with what feels right inside, and you open your arms again deciding to let the chips fall where they may. You tell yourself, you can take it, you’ve come this far!
You are so naive. You are the fawn roaming unaware onto the freeway, you’ll never see it coming. You love some more. You love a lot. You are unafraid. You’ve built the sandcastle in such a way that when the waves come like you know they will, they can only take a little piece of it, the rest will still be there, and you’re always building. You’re working hard at loving all of it, and making yourself as deserving of their love as possible. You love places, people, things and circumstances. Your heart swells. You meet someone, who sees your scars and loves you still. You are on top of the world. The waves come, and take pieces of the castle, it is of no consequence.
And then one day...
The fawn looks up and is suddenly demolished. You never saw it coming, you are folded over with the loss that took you by surprise, the regret that laces the poison of it. You are undone. Every old scar is open, every forgotten pain made new, and you fold your arms tight to keep your insides from spilling out. They were right, you think. One more blow like that would be the end of you.
Time passes. You are resilliant, the love is still there, it brings you back slowly, but you are changed. There is a fear that dictates now, that keeps your heart in check. You know that whatever and whomever you love has the power to destroy you, and so you keep the world at arms length...at first.
Because this is not a sad story, I am happy to report that the fear grows quieter, and your scars start to fade. You are different, but you are not lost. You still believe and hope and choose to see. There is a tentativeness that was not there before, you are guarded, you tell yourself you are wiser. The reckless abandon has been replaced with cautious optimism, and a deep sense of responsibility to never cause what you are recovering from. You start off slowly letting yourself love a place, a group, a job, a hobby, ignoring the whispers of “what if”. Then without realizing it, in your efforts to protect the ones you love, you just love them all the more. In your attempts to grow and change you let a few more in, build another wing to that sandcastle. The fear is always there, you know it always will be, but then you look up at how the stars brighten the darkest of nights and you think to yourself that maybe, the presence of fear makes it all the more meaningful each time you find yourself willing to take the known risk.
“You have to give to the world the thing that you want the most, in order to fix the broken parts inside you.” Eve Ensler
-Breakfast at Tiffany's
This is not a sad story.
When you were born, you were a clean slate. A perfect creature, with nothing but possibility on your shoulders. As you grew and changed, the world around you was changing too. The life that would be yours was being decided by broken hearted grown ups that loved you with each jagged piece. You didn’t know. You didn’t understand any of it. So you sang happily and when you learned to straighten your legs and coerce them into making you mobile, you went everywhere those little legs took you with your arms wide open and a light in your eyes. You loved everything you saw and every day was new. Do you remember that time? You don’t. You can’t. But you’ve seen the evidence in aged pictures and home movies. You know it was so.
As time passed, the framework for how you would view the world started to take shape, one event at a time. The first time you realized that you loved a place was the time you drove away from it in a moving van. The first time you realized you loved a thing was when it didn’t belong to you anymore, the first time you realized you loved a friend was the day after she moved away, and the first time you realized you loved a boy, was when you knew he couldn’t love you back. Nothing new here, just life, and so you close your arms just a little, but still move through the world generally unscathed. After all, that hope that was in you on the first day you took breath is still there, its been cultivated by the ones who loved you and worked hard to make sure that you knew it. As you continue to grow though, the changes get bigger, the gaps between you and the rest of the world seem more evident, the hurts heal slower and the scars run into each other. The questions come. You wonder if you’re doing “it” right. You meet people who walk through the world with their arms closed tightly to their chests, you wonder if they are less scarred. You rage against the notion. You go with what feels right inside, and you open your arms again deciding to let the chips fall where they may. You tell yourself, you can take it, you’ve come this far!
You are so naive. You are the fawn roaming unaware onto the freeway, you’ll never see it coming. You love some more. You love a lot. You are unafraid. You’ve built the sandcastle in such a way that when the waves come like you know they will, they can only take a little piece of it, the rest will still be there, and you’re always building. You’re working hard at loving all of it, and making yourself as deserving of their love as possible. You love places, people, things and circumstances. Your heart swells. You meet someone, who sees your scars and loves you still. You are on top of the world. The waves come, and take pieces of the castle, it is of no consequence.
And then one day...
The fawn looks up and is suddenly demolished. You never saw it coming, you are folded over with the loss that took you by surprise, the regret that laces the poison of it. You are undone. Every old scar is open, every forgotten pain made new, and you fold your arms tight to keep your insides from spilling out. They were right, you think. One more blow like that would be the end of you.
Time passes. You are resilliant, the love is still there, it brings you back slowly, but you are changed. There is a fear that dictates now, that keeps your heart in check. You know that whatever and whomever you love has the power to destroy you, and so you keep the world at arms length...at first.
Because this is not a sad story, I am happy to report that the fear grows quieter, and your scars start to fade. You are different, but you are not lost. You still believe and hope and choose to see. There is a tentativeness that was not there before, you are guarded, you tell yourself you are wiser. The reckless abandon has been replaced with cautious optimism, and a deep sense of responsibility to never cause what you are recovering from. You start off slowly letting yourself love a place, a group, a job, a hobby, ignoring the whispers of “what if”. Then without realizing it, in your efforts to protect the ones you love, you just love them all the more. In your attempts to grow and change you let a few more in, build another wing to that sandcastle. The fear is always there, you know it always will be, but then you look up at how the stars brighten the darkest of nights and you think to yourself that maybe, the presence of fear makes it all the more meaningful each time you find yourself willing to take the known risk.
“You have to give to the world the thing that you want the most, in order to fix the broken parts inside you.” Eve Ensler
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