Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Perception

Last weekend was my 20th Reunion (High School – I guess that has to be clarified. Apparently there are middle school reunions these days too.), and it got me thinking about perception.

For me, high school was a good experience. I was friends with a lot of wonderful people across the spectrum of clique-dom, many of whom are still in my life. Although I wasn’t in sports, I was in drama and creative writing classes, and was on the Newspaper staff.

Life at home wasn’t all that peachy for me though, and I became a little rebellious. I started ditching regularly, choosing to go to breakfast with friends, the lake, the Excalibur, or many other places, yet somehow I still ended up making good grades. I think I was able to separate what was going on at home with school, and I was able to channel my angst into more creative outlets thanks to some awesome teachers.

But, back to perception. I perceived myself to be an oddball. I dressed in fishnet stockings underneath ripped jeans with a black t-shirt and motorcycle jacket. That was some days. Other days it was my black converse with a red denim miniskirt and a black and green tie dyed shirt. My hair had a bright red streak in it, sometimes, when it wasn’t permed or crimped. Lord knows where I came up with those crazy ensembles.

Many of the people I hung around with were from different classes, or they weren’t able to attend the reunion for their own reasons, so I was kind of nervous about the whole thing. I joked with everyone that I was afraid they wouldn’t recognize me unless I was wearing some crazy outfit, or that they wouldn’t remember me (remember – I ditched. A lot.). But, what I found was interesting. People that I’d never even had a class with remembered me as quiet, sweet and nice. It was kind of weird to know that while I thought I was such a hellion, they thought I was “quiet, sweet and nice”, and were happy to see me.

It’s all about perception.

Don’t take yourself too seriously. You may think one thing of yourself, but there may be 100 people out there who think different.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Adaptation

While I was camping in Zion over the weekend I had some time to sit in the quiet under the silver light of the full moon and think. I’ve been trying to come up with a definition of “Who I Am” for some time now. I think that’s a tough one for anyone to answer and I don’t really feel like I’m any closer to the answer than I ever have been. But, I did make a few discoveries.

1.People should not be judged by their hobbies.

Ex: Someone drives a Harley – they are a hellion.
Ex: I like to camp - I don’t like cities.
Ex: I have a tattoo – I’m rebellious.

These are incorrect judgments based on unfair and ungrounded generalizations. If someone were to define themselves by one small aspect of their lives, then they are hiding.

2.I discovered a few things that I am NOT.

I am NOT close-minded.
I am NOT a quitter.
I am NOT moldable.

3.I discovered one thing that I AM.

I AM ADAPTABLE.

Saying that I am adaptable rather than moldable is actually quite accurate. To say that someone is moldable implies that they allow someone or something else to have complete control of them, to shape them as they see fit. I will never allow that.

However, to say that I am adaptable is correct because adapting is a conscious effort on one’s own part. I am easily able to adapt in many situations and social arenas. In high school I was able to befriend and hang out with kids from all the different cliques. I’m a chameleon of sorts, and I think this is a good thing. I believe that life is full of endless possibilities, and the ability to adapt is key to experiencing all of those.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Never Forget...

No words are needed.



Friday, September 2, 2011

Firework


I attended a funeral today for a special woman who was a member of my writing group. Although I had not known her for a long time, I was touched by her dedication to the craft of writing and her spunky personality that shone in our meetings. Today I learned that her birthday was Independence Day, which makes perfect sense because she truly was an independent spirit.

Her daughter communicated to those of us in attendance that her mother’s dying wish was to see her novel published, and as a fellow writer that really struck me. When I started writing romance a few years ago, one of the driving forces that pushed me was to see a love that truly would be “happily ever after”. If you write a great love story, have it set in stone (or on paper as it were), it will truly last. A book will outlast me and my time on earth. If I were to be published, my story would be a legacy of hope in love for anyone who would read it. I completely understand the emotion behind her wish.

In honor of a fellow writer and believer in Romance (who was born on July 4), here are a couple lines from Katy Perry’s “Firework” (paraphrased):

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
As you shoot across the sky.

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, Oh, Oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe.

Even brighter than the moon.
It's always been inside of you.
And now it's time to let it through.