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

Be Happy Where You Are

I found a wonderful Suzuki Piano teacher for my boys.

She lives right down the street from us and has the patience of Job. Watching her teach my boys has been a fantastic experience filled with pure pleasure and awe.

Every week my oldest child went to his piano lesson and was showered with praise and patience. Soon, my younger son followed. Again, pure inspiration.

One day I asked her if she taught piano to adults, eagerly hoping that she did. I wanted to get on her waiting list.

Fast forward a couple of years. THE day came and I received a phone call that she had an opening! By this time, she and I had become friends and I was ecstatic to be learning from such a masterful teacher and friend.

I remember the first lesson that I had. I sat down in her studio, nervously put my hands on the keys, strongly screwed my right foot into the pedal and Bang, Bang, BANGED out a 4/4 tempo tune.

It was AWFUL. Abysmal. Abominable.

But, there she sat, seemingly impervious to the dreadfulness that exuded from her Steinway Grand Piano.

She patiently pointed things out.

She did not laugh, grimace or roll her eyes with contempt.

She did not lecture.

She just listened with a smile. Ahhhh......bliss.

I found someone who wanted me to progress in my musicality. She was enthusiastically willing to lead my melodic journey.

I worked hard for 6 months.

We began in the “Banging Period”.

We next ventured into the “Over Pedaling Period”. (This era of music was rife with overcompensating to hide bad technique).

Then there was the distinct “Voicing Period”.

Slowly and surely I began to play somewhat musically.

I was accomplishing a dream that I had held since childhood: To play the piano AND to enjoy hearing myself play.

I was able to take the black notes and white pages of my favorite show-tunes and unravel them.

“We” were getting there. “We” were a team!

Every week I would criticize my playing. Often expressing this frustration in onomatopoeia form: “Ssssshhhoooooot.”

Looking back at the self-criticism, I recognize it as frustration; it was always there, nagging at me. A perfect week of practice blown within 2 minutes. Often, I would sit at her piano wondering if she had possibly moved the keys before my arrival.

I wanted to get better and still couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. And then they were spoken....those 5 words that changed EVERYTHING.

She gave me a gift when she said to me what her master teacher had said to her:

“Be Happy Where You Are”.

Wow. That changed Everything.

Everything.


......................and not just my perception of music.

Piano, like most things in life, is a process.

Time and practice make everything work right.

In Piano, muscle memory is key. Being able to read, count, and feel the music is absolutely a major (not to be confused with a minor) key.

Once I learned to be happy where I was, I was able to move on and learn more. I took risks. I was consciously free to grow.

I invested in myself and in my interest.

I took a college level music theory course and learned how to count music.

The music theory class was the foundational knowledge that I was missing.

…..OMG....I remember when this teacher learned, at one of my early lessons, that I didn't know how to count beats. To this day she has no idea how I could read and play music without being able to count. She had a valid point.....

While learning those missing foundational pieces I continued to play and learn from her. Soon, I was playing Beethoven's Sonata; Billy Joel's She's Always a Woman; and my ultimate favorite, Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

These were incredible feats for me and I took pride and pleasure that I had accomplished them.

I can now count. I can now voice. I can now feel the music. I am thrilled at my progress. I still get frustrated at my playing, but I always remember, “be happy where you are”.

I now use that phrase in every aspect of my life.

Those 5 little words changed my attitude toward most situations and have brought me ultimate joy.

As a follow up to this story. I began to personal train that piano teacher. She valued my knowledge just as much as I valued hers. One day, after a session, she said to me, “you are such a good teacher, you are so patient and really seem to understand me”.

I was ecstatic.

I realize that she had, without realizing it, taught me how to teach.

She taught me to be patient and kind. She taught me to teach others. She modeled the perfect teacher for me.

With a beaming smile on my face, I realized that we had come full circle.

To you Mrs. Hunter, I tip my hat!

Outta My Way Old Man.....I gotta Pee

It was a dark and stormy night.

A knock echoed through the forest. Knock Knock Knock.

Our Hero lurched to the door to open it....

Two women, one fidgeting, and one man stood there.

One woman spoke~

“Outta my way, old man, I gotta pee”.

Those words helped me develop one of the best relationships of my life. That relationship just keeps giving and giving and has made me feel happiness and contentedness for many many years.

Huh? Huh. Huh!

Those were the first words I uttered to my first (I mean current) husband.

To set the scene a little better, we met at a ski house owned by mutual friends.

My friends and I drove to the Pocono mountains from Virginia one evening after work. We arrived in a very remote “neighborhood” in search of Dave and Dina's house.

Did I mention that it was VERY late and it was a REALLY DARK night.

I was driving and couldn't see any house numbers. We circled around a long while before I finally pulled up to a house that I thought was theirs.

I had to wiz (not the cheese variety) so badly that I told my friends in the car that I was going to knock on THAT door . I was going to tell whoever answered the door that I needed a rest stop.

I knocked.

A stranger answered....not Dave....not Dina. I noticed that he was tall and had graying hair around the temples (not to be confused with a roman iconoclastic temple or Shirley Temple for that matter).

I had no idea if I was even close to their home....I did not care.

“Outta my way, old man, I gotta pee.” THE most important thing to me in that moment was depleting my bladder of too many soft drinks.

What came out of my mouth was truly me and my thoughts. Those thoughts came outta my mouth without filter or concern about what Hero thought.

That Hero was my future husband. That early encounter set the tone for our relationship. I was ME. The entire weekend, I was me. I participated in a frat boy belching contest (which I won. I laughed about completely inappropriate jokes that I told. I did it all. I never changed to be who I thought I should be around this Hero from Ohio.

When you are with people and you are being YOU, it feels natural. It is invigorating. It creates energy. Conversely, when you are in a situation where you have to be the “pretend you”, it feels awful. It is draining.

Who likes going to a formal event to pander to the grand-poo-bahs? Not me... I HATE IT. I hate it so much, that I fall apart inside and get anxious and evil.

Although there is a time and a place for small talk full of civility and boring information, I make these occasions a small slice of my life. I meet people in these scenarios only when it is necessary.

Your friends, spouse, and boss impact a significant portion of your existence. Not being true to yourself, when around people that take up a large part of your life, usually ends in disaster....for YOUR soul.

Be yourself~BE CASUAL~in these situations. Upon meeting a friend, a date or when job interviewing, be authentic.

Pretending to be somebody that you aren't will drain your energy. Upon meeting someone, you are establishing a relationship in which you will always have to be that projected avatar with that person. Trying to maintain that pseudo-self will take you away from your core values and your true Self.

Eventually the energy used to project that false you will drain you. That drain bleeds into most areas of your life and you are generally left unhappy and an empty shell of who you used to be. You will probably be confused in all other areas because you won't even know or remember who "you" are anymore.

Are you really okay living up to the ideals of someone else or their vision of perfection? Can you sustain that? Do you want to sustain that?

I think that it is better to be without “those” friends, spouses and/or bosses that expect you to be someone that you are not.

So, my advice is this: Spare Yourself Unhappiness.

.............by.............

Remembering this important rule: It is none of your business what other people think of you.

Understand that some people will not like you...the real you.

Please believe that it really is okay that you don't float some people's boat. Those people would make you miserable if you allowed them into your LIFE~boat....they'd bring your ship down faster than you can say Titanic.

It is difficult to say whether people like you for being you or like you for not being someone else.

It really doesn't matter the why someone likes you or not or whether they like you or not.

Get in touch with your core values and find friends that share them. Don't sacrifice happiness by being someone you aren't. Those who like YOU for YOU will make you happy.

Always be True to Yourself and your Best Will Follow.

Now, I need to stop typing, 'cause I gotta pee!

C.Q. (not to be confused with D.Q.)

I am sure that you have heard of I.Q.

Intelligence Quotient.

Most of you have also heard of G.Q.

Gentleman's Quarterly.

Many of you have eaten at D.Q. ******

Dairy Queen.

What do you know of C.Q. ?

Probably nothing.

Creativity Quotient. It is a term that was pointed out to me by a good friend. It was an article in the New York Times.

I googled C.Q. to see if the term is “out there”. It isn't.

The writer of the article, Patricia Cohen, has coined the term. You can find the article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/08/books/08creative.html?ref=science

I love this article. It explains a lot.

Often, it seems that C.Q. is the lesser regarded distant red headed cousin of I.Q.

C.Q. is not talked about much.....because..... well, you know (said in hushed tones).......

I am a BIG believer that the sciences are VERY important. I think that “practical work” generally brings home the bacon more than creative ventures.

I also believe that creativity is the spice of life. The life of the party. Fun.

I mean, really, how many times do you sit around as a tinker, tailor, soldier, accountant and belly laugh about debits/credits, anatomy or a hard tack to starboard?

CREATIVITY....it enhances life.

The creativity inside of you can enhance your own life and the life of others when you ask it to come out and play.

If you truly have no creativity inside of you, you can go to a book store and buy creativity for about $20. Alternatively, you can go to a movie for about $10. If you prefer a solitude moment of creativity, buy a coloring book and crayons (hell, go for the sparkly Barbie ones). Color OUTSIDE of the lines! Free yourself of convention.

Wake the C.Q. within. Do this in any manner required to tap into that original genius. Once you embark on the creative path, your creativity will resonate and GROW.

It's time to get fanciful and imaginative......bestow interest to your life! Attempt to get in touch with this inventive side and share it with others.

No more ho-hum, hi -ho, or ho-ho life.

You are now free to live and color outside your box.

Sit back, imagine and Enjoy!


****unless, of course, as your trainer and nutrition consultant I have advised against it.

Encourage

I was given a gift this weekend.

Not once but twice.

I attended two dinner parties one day apart.

A friend of mine said something that may alter the course of my being.

How powerful.

She had read my latest blog, Zebras, and had told me several times how much she enjoyed reading it.

I thought that she was being nice.

But, two days in a row at these dinner parties, she once again applauded my story.

And then....she said it......

“I think that you should write a book.”

That was stated on Saturday evening. I do not believe that there was much alcohol involved in this comment. I was sipping on Perrier and she appeared perfectly sober.

“I think that you have a story there and it should be told....you should write a book.”

That was articulated on Sunday evening. I was drinking this time but she still seemed completely un-inibriated.

I suppose that it could have been one of those passing things that people say at dinner parties.

I don't think that it was.

I am not sure how I know but I feel certain that she was serious.

She was sincere.

She really liked my “voice”.

The beauty of her words are how they touched me.

They encouraged me.

This wonderful woman is a professional who is highly regarded in her field. She is a gentle and private soul. I have always respected her and have stood back in awe at what she has accomplished in both family and career arenas. She is VERY intelligent and has seen a lot of the world.

AND....she liked MY voice.

Wow.

I have been told before that I should write. I have been told this by friends who I make laugh. They think I have a lot to offer the world because they think so highly of me. They think that I can share my ideas and make others laugh.

Their belief in me is pleasing....but, I was still positive that they only saw me through their fruit stripes (***) colored glasses.

This encouragement was different. This was more objective.

This encouragement invigorates me.

This encouragement has me contemplating a careless run in the writing field.

The writing field full of glorious modern day writers like David Baldacci (I used to see him~my touch with fame~ when I worked at UPC), John Grisham, and Nicholas Sparks. Oh, to write alongside the likes of Dana Mallon, Marie Keith, Leslie Morrissette, Michelle Kelley and Marianne Hobart.....would be a pure honor and pleasure.

All of these writers can spin a tale and weave stories leaving their readers spellbound. They write long and intricate stories. Stories that leave me hanging on the edge of my seat or crying in my favorite chair.

Me?

An attention deficit mom/trainer (squirrel) who can only write about 2-3 pages before the idea goes Ka-put.

A person who feels everything when they write.......and when the idea loses steam, so do they?

Me? Writing alongside them?

But, this woman obviously thinks so.....
…............................................................. and now...

…................................................................................SO DO I.

What is my objective in writing?

To write the simple things in my mind. To write about ideas that I feel passionate about. To write about things that seem so obvious to me. To write to entertain myself. To give myself energy through laughter.

I write about my epiphanies that make me happy. I write to focus and to share my views with the hope that they might make someone smile or find an answer or see things in a different light-heartedness.

Now, somebody else sees my objective. They are encouraging me to continue to entertain others and help others entertain new ideas through writing.

Encouragement: It is important to say positive things to people . Something good that you see in them. You never know where it might lead or in what way their lives might change when you utter encouraging words to them.

Thank you, Karol, for believing in me.

You changed my view of myself....

….................changed my view for the better.

..........................You gave me the gift of encouragement.


***see zebras posting, August 2010.