Category: courage

Lion, and Tin Man, and Scarecrow, Oh My!

One never learns how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her – is it ever the right choice? Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? ~Wicked

Thank goodness for today! What a wonderful day spent with family. As our national celebration of the Day of Giving Gratitution is winding down, I only have a few clock ticks left to share what’s been on my mind. So, this will be unpolished and without a pretty pink bow atop adjusted just so. And there most definishly won’t be enough time to apply any glitter for that extra shimmer. It’s just me typing my thoughts on my technological pocket clock…

As I like to put a timestamp on my thoughts, my fellow Ozians and I are in our Wicked movie release era. Lion, and Tin Man, and Scarecrow, oh my! Ballyhoo, butterflies, and bubbles galore! I’m obsessulated. Some of us switched gears from orange glitter in October, to pink going good with green in November. From Showgirl to Girl in the Bubble. It’s been a truly festivating fall! Don’t mind me just singing and dancing through life over here…

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Intersections

When the day becomes the night and the sky becomes the sea, when the clock strikes heavy and there’s no time for tea; and in our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to Wonderland and turn back the hands of time. ~ The Cheshire Cat

(BANG!) It was like a rollercoaster ride through a color run that came to an abrupt stop. No lights. No warning signs. Just a loud confusing sound of static and other engines passing by. Three minutes prior to this scene, I had been walking outside before setting sail down the Green River. I looked up high and noticed the Cheshire Cat with a silly smile on his half-hidden face in the night sky. Was that a glimmer in his eye or a wink? What was he trying to tell me? Go this way or go that way? Oh what to do, what to do…

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No Place Like Home?

Brave, gotta call it brave to chase that dream across the sea. Names, then they signed their names for something they believed. Red, how the blood ran red; we laid our dead in sacred ground. Just think, wonder what they’d think if they could see us now. ~ Dierks Bentley

Click, click, click. I was walking through the magical land of Toys “R” Us with my parents one night when all of the sudden something glittery and red on a low shelf caught an eye behind my large pink glasses. It was a pair of slip-on heels with red bows across the toes. I reached for the sparkling ruby slippers which were just my size, bound up in Wizard of Oz packaging. I had never seen anything like them, and they may as well have been made of real rubies. In all actuality, they were plastic and designed for a little girl to dance and prance around in; not actually wear out anywhere, much to my chagrin. It was the first pair of shoes I remember buying, and I was tickled pink! This purchase by my seven year old self was made possible from an allowance after helping out with chores at home. Right then and there I became head over heels for red shoes, and the affinity remains. Isn’t it amazing how seemingly insignificant moments in childhood can have a lasting impact…

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Bears in the Night

The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It’s our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows. ~ Brené Brown

“WHOOOOOOO!!!” The vivid hoot of the night owl awoke me from my slumber, and I cried out in fright. Except…it wasn’t a real owl; I opened my eyes to the darkness of the room and slowly came to my senses. It seemed as dark as the midnight, but it couldn’t have been much past nine o’clock. Maybe if I keep squinting, I’ll be able to see what the little red numbers say on that clock sitting on the dresser in this now distant memory of my childhood bedroom. The light in the hall cast looming shadows onto the walls. Hearing the cry, my mom rushed into my room to see what was wrong. Three-year-old me with blonde hair at the time, wearing my favorite blue pajamas, was crying my big brown eyes out while sitting on my bed. My mom in her navy blue robe adorned with tiny pink and white flowers, held me close and listened to me describe the scary owl who had felt so real. Like a night-light in the darkness, she came to the rescue and assured me…it had just been a bad dream…

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Lipstick, Fitness, and Things Like Horror Movies

“I hope they’ll know how hard I tried to live in love, to love in depth, let wonder take away my breath, to give until there’s nothing more, this is what I want to be remembered for. Everything else you can set it on fire.” ~ Colony House

“I want your lips to be the first thing people see when they walk through that door!” my boss exclaimed while we young ladies were gathered around for a staff meeting. I’ll never forget that line or the fire in her voice as long as I live. Think Devil Wears Prada with the southern allure of Dolly Parton. At the time, I was in sales training at a high-end makeup and formal dress store for brides and beauty queens in a large micropolitan area just outside Brad Paisley’s southern comfort zone. I’d always loved makeup and dressing up, but the energetic owners of the store gave a new meaning to my previously held visions of a glam up. Plump, vibrant, impossible-to-resist lips were a requirement. Lips that could sell anything. I won’t deny the power of the right lipstick, but maybe I didn’t want my lips to be the talk of the town. In all FAIRness, I love a bold COLOURPOP. It just seemed VANITY to me regarding what my priority was supposed to be; not a genuine smile, but sales lips. I learned a lot during my time there. About fashion, cosmetics, and the not-so-glamorous side of sales. Life lessons that still resonate and fill me with gratitude many years later…

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