Month: May 2019

These lines in the “children’s” book The Velveteen Rabbit are about becoming Real:

It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” 

― Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

These lines always bring tears to my eyes and longing to my heart.They are filled with Truth and Hope. It takes a long time to grow into yourself and I am still growing and becoming more “shabby” as my years add up. For a lot of my life I have been one of those “… people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept “ I drove myself to maintain a body that I thought was ugly or attractive depending on my feelings in the moment.  My heart was guarded by porcupine quills, but I still got shattered and broken many times. I broke into pieces like Humpty Dumpty.

My years on this planet don’t, by default, make me Real, I do have loose joints, eye problems and shabby wrinkles. My angst over outward beauty, adoration or perfection is now just a whimper from my ego.   Getting to “I don’t care.” is so freeing. I wear cargo pants, and now comfort is my primary criteria for foot wear. I don’t care!  If Real is my destination, then I know I must take the bumpy, winding road of experience and learning. When we don’t learn from our experiences we can’t be Real. Denying reality or refusing to change means we can’t allow learning or love into our lives. Loving and being loved are both requirements for becoming Real.

I know “It takes a long time.” to become Real, but I believe there are moments that can put us on the fast track to Real. These moments like birth and death transcend time, a split second that is years long. My awe at the beauty in the world and my grief and despair in the face of losses are both necessary to “become” Real. My baby’s first cry or Roger’s last breath were moments that cut thru years of protecting myself. In those moments, I became more Real by allowing myself to feel vulnerable and open.

Living with love has been joyful and piercing with pain. Tyler’s graduation events were many and he invited me to be a part of them. I was honored.  I got “damp”a couple of times in rain showers, so looked like a grouchy wet cat. (Sideline : Grumpy cat passed away, he will be missed.) I got shabby looking by the end of the day, but those shared fist pumps “Yes!” were very Real. I thought I would fade away when Roger died, but like Roger I was able to transcend some of my earthly limitations.  I became stronger and more compassionate.

My sister is dying of cancer and she is horribly thin, gaunt, and weak. She is beautiful. She is loved.  She is Real.

You won’t see me in a video announcing I am running for President.. Uh,uh no way!! “I will not seek nor accept a nomination for President.” LBJ and me. Even if I were qualified (I’m not), I would sprint away from politics. But then there are lots of unqualified people in office, including and best exemplified by our POTUS. I am certainly not too old, at 66 I am just a babe in the current roster of candidates and office holders. But then I am too old for the other end of the age timeline for the current Democratic primary candidates. Running around the country seeking votes would be too tiring for me, but I would love to visit Iowa and say hello to everyone. Nope. I am not running for President.

It is easy to hide in the sea of humanity, just skimming the surface with eyes wide open like crocodiles and hippos. I can glide along and watch the world and not make waves. Of course if someone falls in and irritates me I can take care of myself.  Gulp.  When I was in school I waved my hand “Pick me. Pick me!” I wanted to be noticed and rewarded for the right answer. I didn’t want to be noticed when I was picked last for the softball game at lunch hour. My reputation as a loser was confirmed for all to see, and I wished for the earth to swallow me up. Running for public office is the ultimate “Pick me. Pick me!”  My hat would  read  “You Gotta Love Me.” Think of all the great speeches I could give and the chants and applause for me. I can hear it now. “Build the bridges and roads.” and “ Lock Trump up!” 

If everyone around me says they see green and I see red, do I automatically decide I am wrong and begin to see green? It’s kind of like if something is repeated often enough it becomes the truth, even if the original statement was a lie. I think this may be brainwashing at its best. The question for me is if I stand tall when people are throwing roses at me , do I still stand up for myself when tomatoes and eggs are being fired at me? I might want to duck if frogs are coming my way, I am not an idiot. So a candidate offers a policy plan and the rest of the world picks it apart. Even the vulnerability queen, Brene Brown, might agree this is too much vulnerability for one person to handle.

The closest I can come to diplomacy is  “You’re wrong, but I am listening.” When I have strong feelings I usually chomp at the bit to speak, but dust a little shame on me and I slink away like a frightened and submissive animal. To speak or not to speak that is the question. Do I want to be noticed? How strong are my feelings? I think I would be one hell of a political speechwriter. What a wonderful way to get my words heard without standing at the podium like a bullseye.

Would you vote for me?