Transitions

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes......

June is what I consider a transition month.

Out with school and in with summer break and living carefree light-long days.

In early June, many recitals, awards ceremonies, and graduation ceremonies are held.

This marks the culmination/celebration of all of the hard work children have incurred over the school year.

They've learned so much during those nine months, that it's time to polish that knowledge and show the world their shining talents.

All that is learned from September to June is wrapped up in Innisbrook wrapping paper, complete with bow.

This is an important transition. It is time to end this year's learning and begin anew next fall.

It occurred to me, this year in particular, that transitions are a necessary (and scary) occurrence.

Without transition, nothing is gained and life remains stagnant.

Transitions are SO difficult for me that I grump-a-lot with my (saintly) husband and (God-bless-them) children when I am on the cusp of a change.

I know that transitions are difficult for most people. That is why some people will stay in a despised relationship, job, [name your nemesis] rather than venture on into the great unknown. I am sure that you or a “friend of yours” has lived through the difficulty of that type of decision at least once.

It's June and my son just graduated from a school that he attended for 9 years.

Major life and minor life changes have happened to our family since the first day we began this 9 year journey.

Laugh lines have been formed.

Gray hairs have been concealed.

Beloved family members are no longer here.

What a bitter-sweet victory treat we parents ingested at the graduation ceremony.

Sweet to see the 27 kids say good-bye to each other, the faculty and the administration. Bitter(ly sad) to see the 27 kids say good-bye to each other and the faculty and the administration.

Perhaps Aristotle describes it best. "The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet."

I (and he) will miss everything that he experienced at the school.

It was a wonderful experience.

I have watched him grow from a first day kindergartner to a rising high schooler.

A majority of his life and 20% of my life have been lived while attending Westminster School.

But, the time has come for all good girls and boys to go unafraid to their next life adventure.

This transition to High School reminded me so much of my own transition to college from a High School that still evokes very fond memories of experiences and friendships. You can imagine that I am mushy, gushy and slushy at this passage.

For some reason that move from High School to college was not too scary for me. I think that I didn't know to be afraid. I really missed my High School friends (none finer), but was ready to embrace the next faze (pun intented).

After that, change got a little scary. My first auditing job...daunting. My first corporate accounting job...confusing. My first day at a non-profit....boring.

I then ventured into the baby raising (sometimes hair raising) experiment. The outcome of that endeavor remains to be seen....stay posted.

Now, I am venturing into building my own business empire (waist).

It's all change.

It's all scary.

It's all good.

This month, I have another change. It's inevitable, too.

I add another year to my age.

That's a change that SHOULD BE scary.

But, like everything else.....I embrace the change.....welcome it.

Time may change me, but I can't trace time.....

Without change there can be no intellectual, spiritual, or emotional growth.

So, turn and face the strange (even if you are just looking in a mirror)....feel free to put on your dance shoes.....and remember there is nothing permanent in life but ch-ch-change.....

Ground Control to Letgo Glom

I have done it!

I have inadvertantly released myself of my (self-induced) promise of writing "monthly" blogs.

In a month that begins with the hailing of fools, holds the burden of a tax return deadline, and is full of showers, my lack of blog seems petty.

(Tom) Petty to some, free falling to me.

In the last few hours of the last day of April, I posted my April blog.

Alas!

It shows as a March blog.

What!?!

I clicked on the "publish post" on April 30, 2011 at 10:53 p.m., but because I had begun writing it in "blogger" in March, it actually "posted" as a March posting date.

Hence, there is no Apri 2011 blog.

Looking for a way to regain control over the situation, I thought about posting one that I had started writing in April.

Quickly I learned that I never started one in April 2011.

I felt the (David) Bowie knife right in the gut.....there can be no April 2011 posting....EVER.

I found that letting go of the notion of monthly posts was the best way to gain control of my expectations.

I subscribed to what I coin, "THE CATCH AND RELEASE" program.

You should try The Catch and Release Program:

Catch yourself setting (unrealistic) expectations and release those expectations.

In the end, I kinda liked this. I let go of a notion that I had glommed onto for no reason other than "it seemed right".

In fact, the posting date actually worked better since my "April" writing was lined up better as 3 of 3 box writings....

There Comes a Time in your life when you return to your (Neil) Young days when you didn't feel Helpless by not attaining your goals. I have reached that time in my life.

You might want to try it yourself. It is very freeing.

As I neatly finish my (not-always-monthly) "May" blog.... I realize that it is 15 days before the end of the month....

...this leaves room for one more blog this month...or maybe not ;-)

Today Not to be Confused with Last Year

(One year ago) Today I made a big change.

I took the time to come out "here" and blog.

Tomorrow I will have one year and one day of experience in blogging.

Those are the not the primary differences in the year that has passed.

In this last year, I have learned much. I have gained confidence. I have grown personally and professionally.

Not only do I believe in other people's possibilities, but I now see my own. That IS important right now! I am looking forward to this next year in blogging....even if it's just 1 blog per month (not to be confused with 1 per day or 1 per week).

I hope that you come along this blogging journey with me and I appreciate every minute that you spent reading my philosophies on life as I see it.

I can promise you this: I primarily write to entertain and educate myself. If I entertain and educate you, that is icing on the muffin!

Stepping Outta Your Box (3rd and Final Triptych)

It is hard to say, objectively, which of my 3 BOX writings should be in the middle of the triptych I have unintentionally created.

Which is the true message of "stepping out"?

Which writing deserves to be the middle focal point and which are the two flanking supporting structure(d sentences)?

You can choose.

My writings on the topic of living outside of your box have hinged panels for easy transport. You can take my lessons and transport them into your everyday life. I hope that you do.

It all began this year when I was fortunate to have been cast for the rarely cast part of Tinkerbell.

I suppose I fit the stature of a Tinkerbell when I stood next to our 6'4" Peter Pan.

Once again, our director Lori, showed her prowess at casting.

Everyone was perfectly cast; and most were stepping outside of their box for a second time.

Tinkerbell was truly the role of a lifetime for me.

I mean, really, when else do you get a part where you don't need to memorize lines, you have a really cool costume and incredible makeup, you are on stage ALOT with the main squeeze (Peter Pan) and the kids hero worship you at the end of the night?

Lori had faith in me even when I wasn't sure who/what/when/where and why Tinkerbell.

Paranoia set in when some in the cast (you know who you are...teehee....) did not understand a real live Tinkerbell.....how could I possibly live up to the quickness of a laser light beam? Some cast members were probably worried about the skimpiness of my outfit (see Outta Your Box part 2).

I am not sure that I could see the vision either, but if Lori conceived my role of Tinkerbell, I leap-of-faith trusted her vision.

Strangely, and unbelievably, I did not know the story of Peter Pan and Tinkerbell before this parent's play was chosen.

Once Lori announced the cast list, I went about doing my research. I must have logged in a 40+ hour work week watching every version of Peter Pan that I could get my hands on (including our now family classic, HOOK).

After the pixie dust has settled, I realize that the thing that came out of this year's performance is that I now BELIEVE in myself.

Do you believe?

You Gotta Believe....

The title of a song in Peter Pan....Tinkerbell's song.

I wish that I could share this song with you and embed it in this blog, but if you want to hear the song, you'll have to dig a little.....here is the website where it is found....you need to go down the part where it has the “full song”: http://www.peterpanthemusical.com/licence/the-songs.html

Since our Peter Pan (James Dillion) did a MUCH better job than this canned song AND the scene is something that you need to view, I will describe the unfolding scene.

Tinkerbell has theatrically taken the poison out of Peter Pan's hands and drunk it down....saving Mr. Pan from a fate known as death....she falls down and appears dead to Pan.

Musically, the introduction of the song begins in a minor tone....

Peter Pan then asks, "Do You Believe in Fairies?" and the MAGIC begins.....

The audience is pleaded by Peter Pan to show their support by twisting and shouting their belief in fairies.

A major key ensues.

As the audience gets more and more into the song, clapping dancing and shouting, Tinkerbell is re-animated coming back to life!

As the Tinkerbell on the ground, it was one of the most exciting moments I have experienced. It began with small children saying ”I believe”....then clapping....then shouting. ...until finally, I rise and dance in the intense liveliness that they have created!

Impractical?

Yes.

Indisputable?

Yes!

This is symbolic of how much energy can be created by believing in yourself and others believing in you too....no matter how far outside of your box you feel.

I set as my goal to be the bestest little Tinkerbell EVER!

I goal set. I GOAL SET. I goal set.

I mindset. I MINDSET. I mindset.

I believed that I could reach my goal of being the best Tinkerbell ever. I rarely lost sight of that goal. If/when I did lose sight of that goal (really, dancing by myself?), I would reset my belief the next moment, hour or day.

It's funny because I did play the “waif-like” Tinkerbell 2 weeks after another (seems like competing goal) of being the strongest I have ever been by showing my mettle in the lifting arena. How is that possible....

didn't matter.....I trusted that I would get there.

Every week, we rehearsed and I believed.

Lori took me through movements which made me feel uncomfortable.....

examples~my cat like nudge on Peter Pan
my skimpy Tinkerbell outfit
dying on stage and have someone sing a song to me
dancing on stage (grapevine) and doing a cartwheel

However, I trusted the rehearsals and that process de-sensitizing my nerves....and I overcame fear and disbelief....

I did ALL those things....and had a GREAT applause at the end of my journey.

THAT was MAJOR (key) MAGIC for me!

I have had the fortune to be in WWW (Wagon Wheels West), PoO (Phantom of the Opry), OK (Oklahoma), and now PP (Peter Pan). It was destined to be my theatrical exit...(or was it?)

OK, you know that when you have done PP/PoO, it's over for the rest of your career!

Once again, stepping into a discomfort zone has grown me as a person and business owner.

I can't thank those in this production enough.

My absolute thanks to Lori for stepping out on a limb with her vision.

A big thank you to my idolized Peter Pan for never leaving a (wo)man behind....he was the most kind and accepting person to whom I had the fortune to be a sidekick.

Lost boys....you are the BEST...you made it so easy to play off your eccentricities!

Darling boys~I loved your characters~just SO darling!

Wendy~you made it easy.

Miss Kimberly was back again this year with a bravado performance of Liza and a pirate. Newcomer, Amit Shah...THANK YOU for stepping outside of your box!

Believe me, if I can push my own boundaries, you can too.

Here is my 3rd and final revelation about STEPPING OUTSIDE OF YOUR BOX: (***)

SET GOALS and believe that you will achieve them.

Mindset is everything. ...get in the right mindset....

Then.....

GO FOR IT!

Mindset can set you up for failure or success....come on....

I know that you will be FAIRY FAIRY SUCCESSFUL!!!

but, you GOTTA BELIEVE....

I believe in you! (turn on the major music and dance!)


***(if necessary, the next set of writings will be euphemistically named “envelope pushing”....not to be confused with push-me pull you)

Stepping Outta Your Box (Part 2)

I have more to say on this subject because I actually did more in the years to come.

Part two is part of the storybox fairytale, and I feel the urge to write it.

This writing is not necessary to explain my belief in why you should get out of your comfort zone. I have already done that in part one.

I stepped outside of my box a couple more times for the parent's play and received a beautiful gift that I want to share.

The year after WWW, I signed up for the Parent's Play again.

This time the role that I took, “chorus girl”, was actually a misnomer....

I took this role with two good friends of mine. We were “chorus girls” Zaza, Mimi and Lulu in another spaghetti musical called Phantom of the Op'ry (PoO).

We were two girls and one man...Chorus Churly Whirly Gurls!

The punch line was a “shoe in” 6 foot something man dressed as a ballerina.

As is typical, I walked into that role eyes closed shut.

Those chorus girl roles were actually much much bigger than I expected. I should have suspected this when I noticed that the “chorus girls” were actually named.

These chorus girls were on the stage for nearly the entire show.

Our roles were the comic relief. We were a part of TWO funny songs where we actually had to sing ensemble and solo. I had to stand up on the stage and use my voice in front of all of my friends, Romans and countrymen.

Holy shitake mushroom!

To top it all off (not to be confused with topless), our “man” had to unexpectedly leave the show.

We two girls had to hone in on our funny bone and make our roles roll on the floor hilarious....

It wasn't a good sign that the music director said that our song was “boring” early in our rehearsals. Boring wasn't the adjective we were looking for.

So, we rolled up our sleeves and set out on an adventure to make our songs funny. Tapping into creative partnering is also an experience I highly recommend. Leslie, Alice and I had a blast creating quite the scene in our song.

In the end, we did it!

Again, the rush of pride that I felt for myself is practically indescribable.

Had I not stepped outta my box, I would not have experienced the laughter shared with my closest friends on the set...

….laughter when Alice, who used a stage light in her cleavage to read her lines back stage, had the light pop out on stage during a live scene.. the 3 minute kiss between one parent and another.....and the coughing out of “get a room” from a cast member....the chorus girls outfits being voted off the island by the theatrical types (nope...I am NOT still bitter about that)...

One of the craziest things happened when we rehearsed a scene over and over and over....it was a complicated scene involving a lot of people and a lot of cues. It is the scene when the Phantom drops a bomb. We are all on the stage and one of the parents dropped their cell phone. Unintentionally, 911 was dialed. The emergency call taker heard a group discussing a bomb scare....a bomb is getting ready to go off....

After the scene was over, a cell phone rang. 911 was calling back to verify that all was okay....they were ready to send in the bomb squad. Can you believe it?

Last year, I was given a gift.

I signed up for the parent's play once again. Not because I wanted to be in it or needed to be in it. My growth in this area had been fulfilled,....or so I thought.

I joined last year's cast of Oklahoma because a good friend of mine was directing it and I told her that I would (morally) support her by joining the cast.

This does not mean that I joined with morals intact. That, I pray, will never happen.

I had a bit part again....the part of Chorus girl....a real chorus girl. In Oklahoma, a spade is being called a spade. I had 4 songs....all ensemble.

I thought that the joy and magic would be gone. I was wrong.

When you step on the stage and sing with a bunch of other people, you are given creative energy that only people that get on stage can understand. But, that is not the gift that I was given....that creative energy was a extra bonus.

Last year's real gift came when Kimberly, who was playing another chorus girl, came up to me and said, “When I saw you in the racy platform boots and fish-net stockings in PoO, I thought: If she can do it, I can do it too”.

How Wonderful!

MY life dream is to inspire people. My actions in previous years had an unintended positive influence in this wonderful woman's life. This woman, who is a self-proclaimed introvert.

She stepped outside of her box.....she discovered the wonderment and joyfulness of stepping into unfamiliar territory and I had the gift of being there with her as she took a wonderful journey into growth!

Lesson two~You never know when your actions may inspire others....so keep on steppin' outside of your box and never shy away from the light....the next Tony winner might be an audience member of your show!

Stepping Outta Your Box (Part 1)

A few years ago, serendipity intervened, and I was asked to portray the pictured character, Kactus Kate, in a musical called Wagon Wheels West (WWW).

I was 43 years old.

As a self-proclaimed “shy extrovert” (that is a whole other story), I would have to step WAY out of my comfort zone....

Every year, the parents get together for “FUN-raisers”. Most of the time, these “fun-raisers” raise funds for items that the school needs and cannot afford to purchase.

As an active volunteer at the school, I was involved in many of these volunteer opportunities. However, I had never ventured into the fun raiser known as the “parents play” (appropriately not shortened to PP).

One year that all changed.

I was asked to participate in the chosen musical, Wagon Wheels West. With a cast of 36, they needed quick extra cast members to make this production happen. No audition. No prior experience needed. No talent.

Even I could do that, right?

OMG. My fantasy come true!

Seriously.

I have ALWAYS loved musicals. When younger, I would sit and watch black and white or color ones on re-runs. Top Hat, The Sound of Music, and Fiddler on the Roof just to name a few.

I would go frequently to the local theater . I would sit, anticipating, in my seat awaiting the curtain's rise from the floor. When the orchestra began, I would let the music and settings wash all over me until I felt like I was living that musical.

I was Dolly Levi. I was a member of the Chorus Line. I had the “Memory”. So, it isn't a far stretch to say that I have always wanted to be in theater.

Being shy and NOT being able to sing was a pretty valid excuse that held me back. (Duh!) So, the “tragedy” of not having enough parents volunteers became my “comedy” and dream come true.

I carelessly stepped into evening and weekend rehearsals.

One small Step For Me...One LARGE STEP For My Small Mind.

I had no idea that I was leaping into a fantastic personal growth phase that I would experience from this single small step.

I played the (chomping at the) bit part of Kactus Kate. Okay, it might'a been Cactus Kate, but I always considered the role spicier than that. A character named Kactus was much more exotic.

Ooooh.... I was an official cast member! I had a copy of the script. I even had this on the front of the notebook holding my script:

There we were, all 36 of us in a small music room every weekend.

(In keeping with my belief that you sink to your lowest level of humor) My very juvenile humor found others like me. We sat in the back drinking, laughing and trouble making. I felt like I was in the Breakfast Club.

Believe me, there were THOSE in the room who did not appreciate our laughter, giggling, whispering or anything that we non-actors were doing. My oh my! As support against the thespians, we had each other, and we did what we wanted to do.

I was re-living a summer sleep over camp. How many times do you get a chance at 40 something to have teenage silliness again?

It was da'bomb, baby!

Before we knew it, it was opening night.

Lights on.

Running toward the stage with 35 other parents to belt out Wagon Wheels are Rollin'. I felt electrifying energy in everything that I did that night.

Scene 1-Strong Spotlights on Me standing there with the broom. My eyes gaze starkly into the audience. Sweeping (which, btw, I had to be taught how to do). I uttered the first words. Nerves. Memories of the director saying “don't worry and don't get nervous. Everybody knows that the first person on the stage is a nobody”. Though some people would derive displeasure from that statement, it allowed me to gain great confidence!

That night, we, as a collective and cohesive group, overcame obstacles. Missed cues, the loft being on fire (okay, this didn't happened, but the smell of fire was strong and we were worried), concerns over the fact that we had never really gone through the entire play before.


Guess What?

We did it!

AND I did it!

I was changed forever....

I learned that if you step outside of your box, you will not regret it. You will be one step closer to becoming the person you never knew was inside of you!

Ahtletic Woman (Toastmaster's Speech #1~Me, Me, Me, Me!)

Harmonica: “toot toot toot toot”....~ Me: "me, me, me, me! "

This is a story about me. An abbreviated story. A 4-6 minute story.

Wow. How do you sum yourself up in 4-6 minutes? Perhaps I should have opened a twitter account to figure out how to truncate 45 years into 600-900 words.

Instead, I took the time to really figure out what I should hone in on as “me”.

I decided I would begin with the objective descriptions of me (not to be confused with objectionable things about me, which would take well over a day). I was born on June 26th, 1965 (making me, for those of you with math difficulties, 45 years old).

I lived internationally with my parents because my dad worked for DOD.

I grew to the ripe old height of 5'2” (not eyes of blue, but brown). I have weighed anywhere from 121 to 172 at my current height. This suggests that I have struggled with weight problems all of my life.

I did actually weigh 192.5 when I gave birth to my two boys, but that doesn't count. It does give you one more hint about me. I am the mother of two boys and am happily married.

I know that these facts are boring and will only take up 20 seconds of this speech, so I venture on with the real subject of this speech....me.

Narcissistic? Probably. Neurotic? No. Necessary? Yes.

After much preponderance and reflection, I came to the conclusion that the “me” I should talk about today is: Laura the “Athletic Woman”.

This is not to be confused with the bionic woman, wonder woman or woman of the year.

Plain and simple. “Athletic Woman”

This label has come up repeatedly in my life of late and I felt this was a perfect time to address this slice of life, para me.

The term, athletic woman, is one that still makes me shutter, chuckle, cringe, and perplex all in one fell swoop. I guess that word would be "shuckinglex".

The reason this is such a strange label for me is because I began life with a very different label.

In elementary school I was the last one picked on the kickball team.

During summers, I hated being on the swim team . The swim coach always shouted at me to go faster....I called him “fuzzy hair head”~it was not a compliment.

Then there was the awful physical education in middle school. That was was where my mom yanked me out of P.E. because the teacher did not give two hoots about the enlarged spleen I had from mono.

Ah.... and then....High School. Every non athletic female's dream. (Sarcasm inserted here). I just LOVED changing in the dressing room. The rolls of “fat” chuckled and buckled around aimlessly. I was the designated “fat cheerleader” at our school. I am sure that the PE teacher found me something of an enigma. This is why I WILL NOT go back to High School reunions “fat”.

So....you can imagine that the label of ”'athletic woman” still comes as a surprise to me.

But, here I am. 5' 2”, 143 pounds, 27% body fat.

I can bench press 120 pounds. I can curl 55 pounds. I can squat 205 pounds. I can deadlift 242 pounds.

Wow.

These stats may be impressive to some, but to me, they are just part of who I am now.

I am strong.

I am a power-lifter. A power-lifter is an athlete who attempts to bench press, squat and dead lift as much weight as possible in a one rep max (1 repetition).

I was recently in a classroom where the teacher talked about everyone's pre-judgement. We all judge, whether we mean to or not.

To prove her point, she held flash cards up with several human descriptions. For example: business man, housewife, and parent. Then, two words flashed up: Athletic Woman.

I am thinking that some people in that room may have even thought of me when they saw that card. Did someone actually utter my name when they described that word? (okay, maybe this is narcissistic)

I've come a long way baby and don't plan to stop anytime soon.

I would like to inspire women everywhere to attempt feats that they consider beyond their ability.

I have seen where I came from and what I can do now and completely believe that ANYONE can become an athletic woman (except a man~and even that is doable now).

Ha! The last one picked on the kickball team could now kick sand in any beach goers face.

I am a late bloomer and proud of it.

It's now time to turn it over to you, you, you, you Mr. Toastmaster