Sunday, January 30, 2011

More and Less

I understand there live people in the world who eat when they're hungry and quit when they're full. They sleep when they're tired and get up when they awaken. I don't fall into these categories. I eat all of the time and sleep until I have headaches. I ascribe to the theory that if one bite is good; more is better. Forget napping - I'm down for the count on a Sunday afternoon.

I don't really grasp the concept of savoring one treasured morsel. If it's that good, move aside the dainty bowl and hand me the pint and a big spoon. You can also forget the tiny 100 calorie healthy snacks. My grandmother often says, "Just push yourself away from the table - for heaven's sake." She is from the South after all. Well, I do push away. After I vow I'll never eat again because I have overindulged.

I know I have company out there. After all, we live in a jumbo world of more. More square footage; fries; caffeine - all the better. More cars, vacations and botox - all the best. Some probably believe that the more contacts in their Blackberries and Friends on Facebook - absolutely better than the best. Of course, these may be the same people who put their forks down when full.

As for me, I do grasp the concept that there is one time when less is more and that's when it comes to real friends. It's not the numbers of mass acquaintances who keep social calendars full. It is simply - the few who never say never. The ones who don't ask what can be done; they just do. The ones who fill in your aging memory while sharing that you haven't aged. The ones who have been and will always be regardless of location or circumstance.

Maybe a day will come when I can put into action the notion that more is not better when it comes to food; it's only more. Until then, one thing I do know - less is more when it matters most.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Big and Huge

“Do you think we ever see ourselves as big as we really are?” she softly asked.

My friend and I were catching up and eventually found ourselves in various closets trying on clothes. Even though she is small and petite, as we played dress up, she found several items which were too small. I wondered why she thought she looked big to others and why she thought she looked big to herself.

I think about the words, unwanted and hurtful, that others give us. Words that float in the air long after they stab our hearts and mercilessly implant themselves with permanence in our brains and memories. We seem to have an endless capacity to judge others until we imitate life and become experts at judging ourselves. Believing the lies that others tell us, sometimes their opinions become ours and we no longer see ourselves as we really are. In my friend’s case, I do see her as big. She has a big heart that cannot be measured. She has big talent without scope and big humor that makes me smile.

In the movie Pretty Woman, Julia Roberts whispered to Richard Gere that the bad things are easier to believe. We listen so well to others that we only see what they see in the mirror and soon, believe it for ourselves. We become so good in our new identities that we can no longer utter any good about ourselves. Those words are long forgotten and discarded -replaced by ugly phrases from others. Soon, we have transformed and become an other fulfilling prophecy.

I hope that one day my friend will no longer hear the voices of others and will no longer see their judgment personified in the mirror. I hope she will laugh as she looks both outwardly and inwardly and know that she is not only big, but she is HUGE. Huge in spirit and making a huge impact in the lives of her friends and the world.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Mean People

There’s a lot of mean people out there who need to learn about civility, and I’m not talking politics. I’m talking about dim-witted replicas of mankind who push aside others with hostile words and nastiness. The surly ones hiding congealed strands of DNA which never properly formed into fully functioning adults. The wicked ones among the populous reeking havoc on the innocent. The ones, whose harsh tones leave imprints on my heart and images in my brain, I choose to remember for one brief moment.

A few nights ago, I met a friend in a bar. Arriving first, I leaned against the wood wall in a large entry way and finished a few text messages. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm and a loud voice shouting, “You’re going to have to move. You need to move RIGHT NOW.” Startled, I looked up at a hulking replica of humankind and responded, “Where? Where do you want me to go?”

“ANYWHERE BUT HERE. YOU ARE IN THE WAY.”

And so I positioned my body between two pub tables and shrugged my apologies to those who sat enjoying their appetizers. As I waited, I recalled another screaming maniac. Shortly after cranial surgery and before I was cleared to return to work, I ventured out for the first time. A few friends wanted to treat me to a slice of my favorite New York styled pizza. The line moved quickly but I was slow. Tired already from the stimulus and noise, I couldn’t make lightning decisions regarding my choice of salad or bread. The evil pizza human replica screamed, “CAN’T YOU SEE I HAVE A LINE? TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT OR LEAVE.” I started crying. Somehow managing to make it to the cash register, I apologized for having suffered a car accident resulting in head surgery and for leaving my house.

A few years later, I’m still lowering my head to the ugly who berate before they think and inflict their pain. And yet, recently I’ve had a few shining moments of confronting the emotionally vulgar. Moments that made my head throb as I avenged justice and as uncomfortable as pulling on tight jeans. Moments which magically stretched until I could walk and talk and breathe at the same time.

I’ve learned from a few lowly amoebas that I don’t have to act like them, and I don’t have to react to them. As much I my parents taught me about love and goodness, these bullies taught me the opposite and gave me living lessons of who I don’t want to be. They played a part in shaping the person I am today. A person who doesn’t want to hurt others and inflict suffering with words or deeds. A person who tries not to hold grudges but I have to admit, I’m still working on that issue.

Call me up, and I’ll tell you which pizza place to boycott and which bar to avoid. I’ll tell you the names of the cads who work there. Then, we can discuss topics of peace and harmony while shopping for new and comfortable jeans.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Snowflake Moment

I think we know too much and live life trapped in repetitive sequences of events both past and yet to be. We relive moments to all who feign interest and collectively gather in anticipation of upcoming events. As I watched football games, I was caught in the reminders of a week which saw a quarterback fired and a coach saved. I faced an orthodontist who confirmed braces in my not too distant future. I held silent vigil for one friend facing the unknown and had dinner with another living in new realities. I visited the grocery to overstock an already stocked pantry as the entire South braced for the fury of winter storms cutting an icy swath across our innocent path. We waited with eagerness like children on Christmas Eve for the first flakes to gently cover the present in pristine white. Untouched by the past and obliterating the future, the world would finally still.

I am tired by preparations and the excitement wanes as darkness fades slowly into my neighborhood. Relaxing to soft music and warmed in a cocoon of safety, my mind drifts as I remember the days of youth. Days with nothing to do except live in the moment. If clouds blew across a blue sky, it would rain. If the temperatures dropped and I could no longer smell the earth and fresh pines, it would snow. If the sky turned green, we would run for the basement. Food magically appeared on the table and everyone gathered at 6:00 for supper. Worries of flossing between foreign metal objects and travel on slick roads soon dissipated, and I was lulled into darkness the way of dimming stars under the weight of blackened night clouds.

In a drugged space between awake and asleep, I hear sounds like rain on a tin roof. Rising to gaze out the window, I am surprised that freezing rain is hitting a snow covered deck and trees are already bending towards me covered with ice. The glistening scene stretches deep into spaces lit from the ground and in wonder, I am transfixed. Braces and football and anxieties are forgotten as I open the door and breathe the chilled air. The past and future merge into a present rain changing into snow and I smell the virgin moment.

Oh that I could be trapped in this time where I only know what is felt on my tongue as I raise my face to the sky and capture snowflakes.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The Christmas List

I listened to my niece recount, in holiday tradition, Christmas gifts received earlier in the day. Over the next few hours, the phone rang and different family members went through similar lists for others celebrating the holidays from afar. My turn was no different. I punched my card and kept moving forward reciting cake holder, gift cards, and chocolates.

I wonder why I didn’t share the real list -love from family and laughter with friends; peace, joy, happiness, and good health. Time to slow down, rest, and reflection on all that we possess which cannot be wrapped in boxes and presented with glittering silver bows.

If we’re lucky, we’ll get the same gifts every day of every year. We’ll recognize them and speak often of their fragile strengths. Give me another chance and ask what I got for Christmas. This time I will simply say Blessed.