Thursday, April 25, 2013

A tale from the journey

I sat in a room with 12 other people listening to the presentation overviews being given. Nervous energy raced through my body. My fingers anxiously picked at the rough skin of my right thumb, looking for one dried loose piece of flesh to tear away. My right foot danced up and down, a telltale sign of the uncertainty in my mind.  I could feel it coming. My turn was next.

Steeling my resolve I met the meeting's leaders gaze head on, though everything in me wanted to revert to the hard and fast rule in school "never look authority figures in the eye!"  I was next.  And so I began.

"Fifteen months ago I walked into Mr. So-and-So's office for a job interview..." Two or three minutes later I was done. The overview for my presentation given.  I sat back in my chair and let out a breath of relief.  That's when I heard Mr. So-and-So say, "I think we hired the right person."

They didn't know, those 12 people, that the last time I made a presentation to a group of adults was in a church.  They didn't know that last presentation was on my most favorite Scripture passage in the Bible.  They had no way in knowing that in the last presentation I gave I talked about standing on a ledge, looking over a gap wondering if I  enough faith to take the step, the leap of faith if you will, to change my world.

I sat back in my chair, took a cleansing breath and felt, for the first time in a year and seven months, confident.  I have no idea where life is taking me.  I do not know where I will be a year from now but today I am relaxing into the role I have found myself in, grateful for the leap of faith that has brought me here.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013


Today I missed the early commuter bus today by 30 seconds because:

  1. I am a girl.
  2. I got up 5 minutes late.
  3. I could not decide what to wear.
  4. Decided what to wear and then realized I had a "tan" line.  Changed mind on top.
  5. Put on new top.
  6. Went to leave and realized the fog was in.
  7. Went back for a sweater.
  8. I do not have a navy blue nor do I have an off white sweater.
  9. Had an off white sweater that I wore three times and decided it was awful.
  10. Donated it to Goodwill.
  11. It's cold, I need a sweater.
  12. Dilemma ensued.
  13. Wearing white and off-white unsettles me.
  14. Finally tore a white sweater off the hanger and refused to look in the mirror.
  15. Raced out the door, sailed through the various lights until that one light.
  16. Watched the bus turn up the street while sitting at that one light that
  17. Started writing a letter to the city about that stupid light in my head.
  18. Light turned green.
  19. Pushed the van ahead of me to park and ride.
  20. Jumped out of car.
  21. Watched bus pull away.
  22. Sometimes it is a pain to be a girl.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Perfect hair

I am wary of people with perfect hair.

Actually, let me rephrase that.  I am wary of WOMEN with perfect hair.

I don't mean women who have those wash and wear haircuts that just look nice all the time.  I mean the women whose hairstyles must have taken hours to get just right and whose hair looks ah-maz-ing day after day from morning til night.  Whether up or down, their hair is perfect.  Those kinds of women make me edgy.

9 out of 10 days my hair winds up in a ponytail or sloppy bun by the end of the day.  I have hair bands everywhere.  In my purse, on the bedside table, on the vanity, on the gearshift of my car, in my backpack, in my luggage, on my key chains, everywhere I can put a hair band, I will.  I know at some point during the day I will have had enough and need to get my hair off my neck, out of my face, just up!  I get up in the morning and it's a ramble, shamble mess that only water and shampoo will tame.  I blow dry, style it, spray the heck out of it and walk out the door and by the time I get to the car my hair will have arranged itself into whatever semblance of order it decides it would like to be in that day and I have to live with it.  Perfect hair eludes me.

And so I am wary of people who have perfect hair because of my experience with my own hair and thus, I decided, it's impossible for anyone to actually have perfect hair and have a real life.  Thereby I am wary of anyone with perfect hair and I judge them.

Awhile back I had a conversation with a lady who has perfect hair.  She is one of the people I have been wary of and judged.  It was a short but deep conversation and as it was wrapping up I was overwhelmed with remorse.  This perfect hair woman was struggling with a decision, a pretty tough decision that showed me there was more to her than her perfect hair.  In our brief but intense conversation I finally got her.  She may have perfect hair but underneath that perfectness is someone just as messed up as I am.  She's got just as many doubts, just as many questions and struggles with just as much as I struggle with...she just happens to have perfect hair.

I've started looking at people with perfect hair from a different viewpoint.  I look past their hair and wonder about the person beneath the surface.  What are their fears?  What makes them happy?  What are the things they struggle with?  What are the secrets they are holding onto?  Do they feel loved?  How do they get that perfect hair??!!  Okay, so I can't get completely past that one; feel free to judge me.

Everyone has a story.  We all have doubts, fears, failures and successes that have shaped us.  We all have secrets and need to feel loved.  We all look different on the outside but on the inside there is so much that brings us together.  I'm working on getting past my perfect hair wariness, to look below the surface and see people for who they are and not what I perceive them to be.  It's a challenge, and sometimes I still am wary of the person beneath that superficiality but at least I've taken the time to get to know the person.

I accept my limitations.  I will never have perfect hair...but I know there is something about me that other people see and judge me for.  I wish we would all stop judging and start looking at the person beneath the surface.  There's a lot we are missing.