I am fascinated by the idea that thoughts become things and a couple of months ago God decided to give me a little lesson in the concept. Several lessons actually. And all within a couple of weeks. Here's how that few days went.
It started on a Tuesday evening as I was out in my yard raking leaves. As I raked, the thought went through my head that I want to be one of those people who is so comfortable in their own skin that they can just suddenly dance in public without worrying about people watching. I just kept raking. That Friday, while I was at an incredible workshop with about 50 other people I was tapped on the shoulder by the presenter and had to go up on stage and dance by myself in front of all of those people as they followed me. Hmmm...that response from the Universe came quick!
Wednesday evening I ran to the grocery store to grab a few things. Money is extremely tight right now and I only had a little cash on me but it was enough to get the few items I was needing. It started to rain as I neared the store – a rain/snow mix since it was the last day of November. I noticed a homeless man crouched behind a strip mall rubbing his hands together trying to stay warm. My heart sunk. I could only imagine how miserable he must be. I ran in to the store and decided to cut back on what I was getting so I could buy this man a little bit of food. I couldn't do much but I had to do something. So after I bought my groceries I stopped in at the McDonald's and grabbed the man some food and a cup of coffee. I got in the car, hoping he would still be there. As I drove along the back of the strip mall he was gone. As I started to get on the road to head home I had the thought that I should go back and drive around the strip mall just in case. And there he was. I got out and handed him the food and coffee and he started to cry. Then I started to cry. I gave him a hug. He was so old, his skin was like leather and I felt how cold his hands were. I knew I had to do one more thing. I still had $7 in my wallet so I ran back to the store and bought a pair of gloves. I went back to the man and put the gloves in his pocket as he stood in the rain eating his food. I cried all the way home and I thanked God for a roof over my head. The next day a huge windstorm hit Utah and the large curly willow tree in our backyard was uprooted from the ground and landed on the roof above my bedroom damaging the roof but not putting a hole in it. Again, I thanked God for a roof over my head.
The next Tuesday as I drove home late at night after playing soccer, right in front of me was the biggest shooting star I have ever seen. The tail glittered behind it. I smiled as I thought about how incredible life is.
A few days later a quote went through my head: "The woods would be very silent if only those birds sang who sing the best." Odd little quote to go through my head. Little did I know that a couple of days later I would get a church calling to lead music for the little kids in Primary. Anyone who knows me knows I can't sing. At all. I laughed.
Yep, I better watch my thoughts! Thanks for listening to me Universe. And while I have your attention, there are a few more things I'd like to talk to you about!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The Rebel Within
You wouldn't know it looking at me today, but there's a rebel within me. All my life I've felt like I just didn't quite fit in and it showed. "I'm a rebel, Dottie, a loner." Those words may have been Pee Wee Herman's but they fit me too. Eventually in my late teens alcohol became my friend. Then I added a little marijuana to the mix. I starting dying my hair purplish-red, even had the bottom half buzzed and had a 6 inch braided tail. My wardrobe was all black, I carried a switch blade in my boots, and hung out at punk clubs in Salt Lake where I usually danced by myself next to the speakers. I smoked two packs a day and played pool in smoky, dingy pool halls. I had a homemade tattoo of a skull and crossbones on my shoulder. I dated guys with names like Billy Rat, and while a couple looked like Billy Idol, others sported mohawks. I had the cops draw their guns on me once. I had some psycho on drugs throw his fist through my car window shattering it in my face. I had lots of times I probably should have died driving drunk or high.
Then something changed. I checked myself into a treatment center. Months later, I ended up pregnant and became a single mom. I quit smoking, cold turkey. I went back to church. Went back to college.
Went back to blonde. I became a member of society and got a full time job. I volunteered at my son's elementary school every year. I dressed normal and even covered my skull and crossbones tattoo with a sunflower done by a guy named Bones. And after 10 years as a single mom, I even got married. Then I really became normal - even boring. There would be no more dancing. No more shooting pool in dingy, smoky pool halls. I even had an allergic reaction to my tattoo many years later and had it surgically removed. Now I have a four inch scar. I started my own business and I'm even the Chair of the Davis Chamber of Commerce Women in Business. I've been sober 22 years, smoke-free 18.
But the rebel is still within. In the last year or so I went back to dying my hair all sorts of different shades of red (much to the dismay of my mom). I still go to my Social Distortion concerts. I even hit the hard stuff twice a week. Yep, Diet Coke WITH the caffeine! I went back to playing soccer in my 30's and then again in my 40's. At 38 I took martial arts classes and earned my 1st degree black belt. I still long to play pool in smoky, dingy pool halls with Tom Waits playing on the jukebox. And sometimes, when I'm alone, I crank the music up and dance by myself. I still find guys like Mike Ness and Jesse James sexy with all their tattoos, not to mention Orlando Bloom when he had his mohawk. Heck, I still have the urge to get a mohawk myself...I just don't act on that one! I still love the sound of a Harley, and dream of driving a little red corvette. Marriage hasn't really worked out as I had planned. And sometimes I still feel like I don't fit in.
You see, it's still there. Sometimes I feel it so strong I think I might explode. Sometimes it makes me smile. And sometimes I even let it out to play a little. It's the rebel within.
Then something changed. I checked myself into a treatment center. Months later, I ended up pregnant and became a single mom. I quit smoking, cold turkey. I went back to church. Went back to college.
Went back to blonde. I became a member of society and got a full time job. I volunteered at my son's elementary school every year. I dressed normal and even covered my skull and crossbones tattoo with a sunflower done by a guy named Bones. And after 10 years as a single mom, I even got married. Then I really became normal - even boring. There would be no more dancing. No more shooting pool in dingy, smoky pool halls. I even had an allergic reaction to my tattoo many years later and had it surgically removed. Now I have a four inch scar. I started my own business and I'm even the Chair of the Davis Chamber of Commerce Women in Business. I've been sober 22 years, smoke-free 18.
But the rebel is still within. In the last year or so I went back to dying my hair all sorts of different shades of red (much to the dismay of my mom). I still go to my Social Distortion concerts. I even hit the hard stuff twice a week. Yep, Diet Coke WITH the caffeine! I went back to playing soccer in my 30's and then again in my 40's. At 38 I took martial arts classes and earned my 1st degree black belt. I still long to play pool in smoky, dingy pool halls with Tom Waits playing on the jukebox. And sometimes, when I'm alone, I crank the music up and dance by myself. I still find guys like Mike Ness and Jesse James sexy with all their tattoos, not to mention Orlando Bloom when he had his mohawk. Heck, I still have the urge to get a mohawk myself...I just don't act on that one! I still love the sound of a Harley, and dream of driving a little red corvette. Marriage hasn't really worked out as I had planned. And sometimes I still feel like I don't fit in.
You see, it's still there. Sometimes I feel it so strong I think I might explode. Sometimes it makes me smile. And sometimes I even let it out to play a little. It's the rebel within.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
You Call That Honesty?
Our lesson in church last Sunday was on honesty. And honestly, some of the discussion really bothered me and has continued to fester in my head. So now I can't sleep until I throw it out there to the Universe and release it.
Most of us believe we have a good handle on what's honest but I want to question that a bit. As the discussion turned to being honest in our words and thoughts I feel the lesson took a horrible turn. You see, people wanted to justify not being totally honest because it can hurt feelings. It's commonly called being brutally honest. But is it really honesty at all? Some talked about not really telling people what you thought of their clothes or how fat they looked. One woman even mentioned that you wouldn't tell a woman that her baby was ugly. Do you really consider that honesty to even be thinking that in the first place? I would consider it more judgmental than honest.
Think of it this way. To God that baby is absolutely beautiful. To that mother who has waited so long to have that child, that baby is absolutely beautiful. I have an amazing, and very handsome son. I would have LOVED to have more children, but my husband didn't want to as much as I did. Any child that I would be blessed to have would be absolutely beautiful to me. So are they really being honest in thinking that way or are they looking at that child through worldly eyes?
And the person in the not-so-flattering clothing? We all have our own opinions of what looks good and who are we to say what is right for someone else. Honest or judgmental? Personally, I could stand to lose 30 pounds (again), my nose is pretty big, my ears are even bigger, I color my hair interesting colors at times. Speaking of hair, I used to have a lot more of it so it was easy back then to do pretty things with it. Through a series of stressful events over the last few years I'm now down to a third of what I used to have. I don't have money to spend on clothes so everything I own comes off the clearance rack. So by some people's standards, I'm not that pretty, or fashionable, or thin. But I know that to God I am still beautiful.
A few years back I saw a man walking across the street in Salt Lake. His thin body was deformed so he was bent over to one side and had difficulty walking. But there he was, crossing the street dressed in a nice dress shirt and pants, walking with his head held high and looking very confident. Down a couple more blocks I then saw a man with a large muscular body crossing the street. As he crossed the street he smoked his cigarette. Now by the world's standards the first man would not be considered an attractive man. Is that an honest opinion of the man? I saw two men who had both been blessed with a body. The first one was proud of the body he had been given and was taking care of it to the best of his ability. The second man, not so much. Where's the real honesty?
So there's my soap box. Don't get me wrong, this is not something I am perfect in. This is a lesson as much for me as anyone else who chooses to look at it. Sometimes we hide behind our own judgmental opinions by calling it brutal honesty. But if we choose not to look at the world and the people in it through human eyes but by the light of Christ instead, we just might see things differently and find real honesty. Excuse me for being brutally honest ;)
Most of us believe we have a good handle on what's honest but I want to question that a bit. As the discussion turned to being honest in our words and thoughts I feel the lesson took a horrible turn. You see, people wanted to justify not being totally honest because it can hurt feelings. It's commonly called being brutally honest. But is it really honesty at all? Some talked about not really telling people what you thought of their clothes or how fat they looked. One woman even mentioned that you wouldn't tell a woman that her baby was ugly. Do you really consider that honesty to even be thinking that in the first place? I would consider it more judgmental than honest.
Think of it this way. To God that baby is absolutely beautiful. To that mother who has waited so long to have that child, that baby is absolutely beautiful. I have an amazing, and very handsome son. I would have LOVED to have more children, but my husband didn't want to as much as I did. Any child that I would be blessed to have would be absolutely beautiful to me. So are they really being honest in thinking that way or are they looking at that child through worldly eyes?
And the person in the not-so-flattering clothing? We all have our own opinions of what looks good and who are we to say what is right for someone else. Honest or judgmental? Personally, I could stand to lose 30 pounds (again), my nose is pretty big, my ears are even bigger, I color my hair interesting colors at times. Speaking of hair, I used to have a lot more of it so it was easy back then to do pretty things with it. Through a series of stressful events over the last few years I'm now down to a third of what I used to have. I don't have money to spend on clothes so everything I own comes off the clearance rack. So by some people's standards, I'm not that pretty, or fashionable, or thin. But I know that to God I am still beautiful.
A few years back I saw a man walking across the street in Salt Lake. His thin body was deformed so he was bent over to one side and had difficulty walking. But there he was, crossing the street dressed in a nice dress shirt and pants, walking with his head held high and looking very confident. Down a couple more blocks I then saw a man with a large muscular body crossing the street. As he crossed the street he smoked his cigarette. Now by the world's standards the first man would not be considered an attractive man. Is that an honest opinion of the man? I saw two men who had both been blessed with a body. The first one was proud of the body he had been given and was taking care of it to the best of his ability. The second man, not so much. Where's the real honesty?
So there's my soap box. Don't get me wrong, this is not something I am perfect in. This is a lesson as much for me as anyone else who chooses to look at it. Sometimes we hide behind our own judgmental opinions by calling it brutal honesty. But if we choose not to look at the world and the people in it through human eyes but by the light of Christ instead, we just might see things differently and find real honesty. Excuse me for being brutally honest ;)
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