Art……
enables us to find ourselves
and
lose ourselves
at the same time.
– Thomas Merton
Contemporary Artist
I found this one single, tiny, beautiful, boldly vibrant purple flower today. The kind of purple that is usually associate with royalty. I stumbled across her on my morning walk. I loved how she was really representing that whole “bloom where you’re planted” idea! She didn’t care that she was nowhere near the other pretty flowers. She was not concerned that she was stuck in the middle of the weeds right next to the dirty, cold, deperately needs to be cleaned sidewalk. She just decided to do what she was created to do……BLOOM!
I’ll be honest with you, I am not a fan of most of the kitschy sayings that people pass around to try to inspire others. My least favorite is “too blessed to be stressed”. I’m not really sure why it gets under my skin the way it does, but just….ugh! Maybe because people use it to try to sugar coat life’s tendency to be really hard and heartbreaking and messy sometimes. Like we can’t be depressed or heartbroken or sad or mad or worried because we are “blessed”. Now, I get it….the concept of counting all the great things in your life…..your blessings. But, for me, being blessed certainly doesn’t keep me from feeling the weight of some of the crap life has dealt me. Today though, I’m re-thinking my annoyance with one of the slogans. Specifically “bloom where you’re planted”…. I think I can get on board with that now. The tiny, purple, wreaks of royalty flower has inspired me.
I wondered how she got there. Way over there, away from the rest of the purple flowers. I’ll bet she didn’t question why she was stuck way over there in the weeds instead of the nice, well maintained, well watered, cozy flower bed that was surrounded by a pretty white stone border to keep the not flowery weeds out. I’m thinking reasoning is not a flower skill. I’m betting she didn’t give up or complain because she was alone. She probably didn’t look around and see that she was surrounded by a lot of very not royal, non-flowery, very brown bedraggled looking weeds and a sparse amount of semi-green St. Augustine grass and think, forget this, I am NOT blooming here! She likely didn’t take note of how very close she was to the walkway where anyone not paying attention could accidentally step on her.
I’ve been navigating my way through a tough season of life lately. There are days that I feel like I have awakened in a field of weeds and grimy dirt right next to the hard, cold sidewalk. I struggle with shame and guilt and self doubt. I have endured some really unspeakable things in relationships. I have been wracked with the pain of losing too many loved ones too soon. It would be easy to just decide that since I have been stuck here among the weeds and dirt and jacked up grubby walkway….I could just forget doing what I was created to do. I could not bother to bloom. No one would be the wiser. I’ll just blend in with all the other non flowery weeds. It may be easier to just give in. To give up. To not bloom and be the bold royal purple flower that I’m meant to be.
There are plenty of flowers out there already. No one will miss just one purple flower. That’s it…..I’ll be a weed. But, wait. When I was walking, I didn’t notice the huge BED filled with royal purple flowers 20 feet away. I noticed the one tiny beautiful flower that was in MY path. I might have missed it and not been so inspired or encouraged by it had it not had the courage to bloom right there where it was “planted”!
I’ve been on this journey recently to find joy in the middle of some very complicated, messy, heartbreaking life stuff. It occurs to me that I could be brave like the tiny flower and just BLOOM….right here. Right in the middle of the mess. Maybe someone will stumble across me. Maybe they would not see the flower bed. Maybe they need the inspiration to be courageous in their own life and just go ahead and bloom where they’re planted. Wherever that is…..right now….today. Not when conditions are perfect and green and all full of loveliness.
I really want to be more like the very brave, tiny royal purple flower that didn’t ask questions, didn’t compare herself to the things growing around her, didn’t decide to just not flourish because she found herself in the weeds. She didn’t refuse to be beautiful and purple and flowery just because life had placed her in a messy, undesirable, less than ideal place. She just did what she was created to do…..right where she was……and her bravery and her short little life among the weeds, out there all by herself helped someone. She helped me.
I knew that driving alone in the middle of the night along unfamiliar back roads was possibly a bad idea. What can I say? I was twenty-something, which made me completely oblivious to my own mortality. I was also hopelessly smitten with a certain Moroccan acrobat who was in the circus I had just been visiting. But that is a whole different and colorful 3 ring story for another day!
I was working as a sales and marketing rep for the Clyde Beatty-Cole Bros Circus. I had secured this travelling position by cleverly making the management team believe that I was qualified and clearly the only logical choice for the job. Suckers! What made me the right person for the job was that I was determined to spend more time with aforementioned Moroccan acrobat! Never underestimate the power of a twenty-something year old girl with a “he takes my breath away and makes my heart beat a bazillion times a minute crush”!
It’s around 2:30 a.m. (further proof of the theory that nothing good happens after 2:00 a.m.) and I am returning from a clandestine rendezvous. Sales staff and performers are discouraged from fraternizing, so I have conducted a stealth mission trip to see my crush. The town the show is in is about 2 hours from the town I am currently working in. I am on my way back to my hotel. I did not really pay attention to the roads I travelled to get to my crush (you know, due to the butterflies in my stomach and stars in my eyes). I am not at all sure of where I am or how far I am from my hotel. I am also sleepy. Really, really, really sleepy. I’m sure you can see where this is headed.
I may have closed my eyes for just the teensiest, tiniest second and….B BAM…B BAM!! I drifted into the curb resulting in 2 blown tires. “Super great!” I thought, “Two flat tires at 2:30 a.m. in the middle of no-clue-where-I-amville!!” I REPEAT NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER 2:00 A.M.
This was before cell phones. Well it was before cell phones that were smaller than an NBA player’s shoe and before practically everyone on the planet had one. Ironically enough, the current crop of tablet sized phones are almost shoe sized again! Just an observation. I survey my surroundings and find an office complex which is, of course, empty because IT’S AFTER 2:00 A.M.!!
I also notice an abandoned strip mall which I think may be within walking distance. Yes, I hear you frantically shouting “Don’t do it!” But my options are few. I gather my purse and head to the abandoned, dimly lit mall where I think I faintly see a payphone. Remember those? Yes, payphones were a common sight then and NO, I am not two days older than dirt.
I walk no more than a few hundred feet when a very old, very long, very poorly painted, very sputtery Ford sedan pulls in front of me and stops. A disheveled, looks like he hasn’t showered and may live in his car, man rolls down the window and beckons me to come nearer. Again, I HEAR you….but my options are few and I’m twenty-something and, therefore, invincible. I think to myself, “This is it….this is where my short nowhere near finished life ends.” I fear that I am destined to be found chopped into little bitty pieces and stuffed in a garbage bag buried in a corn field. However, this is Florida so it will more likely be an orange grove. I hope I’ve left something in the car that will help the authorities identify me so that my parents won’t live with the excruciating pain of having me just disappear.
He leans out the window and says “You’re not from around here, are you?” I tentatively respond that I am not. He proceeds to tell me that he thought that might be the case because someone familiar with the area would not be walking around alone at 2:30 a.m. I think you’ll agree with me that the, “this girl must be an idiot” was implied. I force a smile and hope that maybe if he sees how nice I am he will rethink any sinister plans he has for me. Oh, the blissful, completely obliviousness of youth.
He asks me where I am headed and I realize, with great embarrassment, that I’m not really clear on that since I have no idea where I am at the moment. Note to self; next time you go traipsing around in the middle of the night, leave a trail of bread crumbs or something so you can find your way home!! I do remember the name of my hotel and the town it’s in (yay for me!) and he assures me that it’s not very far and he will just call a cab for me. I am infinitely relieved that he does not offer to drive me there in the beat up sedan! Then, to my complete astonishment, he pulls out……(relax, not a gun)….an NBA SHOE SIZED PHONE! Seriously, what are the chances? I breathe a huge sigh of relief because I now feel somewhat optimistic that today is not the day I die…..unless of course he’s calling his friends to come help with the body… It’s only a matter of minutes before a yellow cab pulls up next to us. Mr. Not a Serial Killer speaks to the cab driver who then asks me the name of the hotel where I would like to be deposited (alive and not in pieces I am now somewhat confidently hopeful). I tell him and turn to gather some things for him to put in the trunk. I then turn to thank Mr. Not a Serial Killer for all his help and intend to get his name or number or something. I am sure my parents would like to send him a nice fruit basket or a gift card of some sort to thank him for not hacking their irresposible daughter into little bitty pieces!
Imagine my confusion and shock to discover that HE IS GONE! There is absolutely no sign of him or his poorly painted, sputtery sedan. I search the road in both directions as far as I can see, but there is no trace of him. There are actually no cars or even any tail lights in the distance. It is as if he just vanished. I crawl into the cab and sit baffled for the 45 minute ride to my hotel. I am deposited safely, alive and all in one piece.
One of the major sponsors of the circus in my town is a tire shop. Coincidence? I think not! They somehow find my abandoned car, tow it back to their shop and install 2 brand new tires…for free! I’m not sure I deserve this blessing considering my behavior, but I’ll take it.
I won’t lie to you and say that was the last stupid decision I made in my twenties, but I did try to be a little more alert to my surroundings. I tried to not be out after 2:00 a.m. because….well, you know! I think of that night often and I am convinced of at least one thing for sure;
MY guardian angel drove a beat up Ford sedan!
It was an ordinary day. You know the kind. A day full of laundry, dishes, errands, more dishes, more laundry…..the kind of day where I sort of float through it on autopilot. I mindlessly pulled a butter knife from the kitchen drawer and when I looked down at it, I stood there a little frozen for just a second. I stared down at the simple utensil. It was not particularly shiny or ornate in any way. But, right there in my ordinary kitchen on an ordinary Tuesday, I am flooded with sweet memories at the sight of it.
You see, this is a knife from my childhood. I had actually forgotten that I had it because it had been pushed to the bottom of the drawer. I guess it surfaced after bravely fighting its way up from under all the plastic knives, miscellaneous wrapped and unwrapped straws and a rogue serving fork! After both of my parents had passed, my sister and I spent months sifting through and claiming things we would take, keep, and cherish from our childhood home. I took several pieces of the flatware that we used for every meal for as long as I can remember. It’s not really all that special, I suppose. It’s not even “real” silver or sterling silver. It’s just your plain, ordinary, probably cheap, run of the mill stainless steel. It doesn’t have an intricate curly pattern or beautiful elegant flowers. It doesn’t have an imprint with the name of the pattern and a declaration of its worthiness. It does have a simple little swirl with a dot or two on the handle but that’s it. Plain, simple, reliable, sturdy….like the minivan of knives! I remember setting the table for countless family dinners where we enjoyed so many of my Mom’s everyday meals. We loved her homemade soup and cornbread. My Dad would always have a side of jello with dollop of mayonnaise. I know! Yuck! Don’t even get me started on just how wrong that is! The point is that we used this flatware to eat it all.
As I am holding it, a thought occurs to me. To most people this would simply appear to be a completely ordinary, not so special, not worth much money, possibly even disposable at some point butter knife. You might find it at a garage sale for a dime or in a bin at the Goodwill store. But, to me, this knife holds half a lifetime of memories. Memories of laughter and a home where I was loved well and cherished and cared for. It is anything but ordinary. It is extraordinary.
Sometimes I feel like that knife. I feel completely ordinary, not so special, not worth much, and sometimes even disposable. There are days I wake up feeling like I belong in the Goodwill bin! Maybe you have felt that way too. We live in a world where it seems that the only way to be valuable in any way is to be extraordinary. I often feel the need to be more like the intricately patterned, expensive “real” silver to be of any value to anyone. But this flatware reminds me that even ordinary things are extraordinary to those who appreciate and love them. The stainless, everyday knife with the swirly design on the handle served us well. It was durable, stood the test of time and now provides a tangible connection for me to a lifetime of precious memories. I can’t look at this knife without remembering the deep and nourishing love my sister and I felt in our home. I remember spending evenings at the kitchen sink chatting away with my Mom about my day while she washed and I dried the plain flatware. I am reminded of the laughter that my Dad had a way of bringing out at every family meal. He had a sarcastic wit about him which I loved and am proud to have inherited from him. When I was a little girl, I would tell my friends that my Dad was going to be a comedian when he grew up! I am reminded of my only sister and how there is something unexplainable about the bond you have with someone who has lived your whole life with you.
So, you see, this ordinary knife is extraordinary to me. It is because I love what it symbolizes to me. I see it diferently because of this. I see it through a lens of love and appreciation for its place in my life. I don’t love it any less because it is not fancy or expensive. In the same way I appreciate this knife, the people that I matter to (and who matter to me, by the way) love and appreciate the very qualities in me that I consider to be just average and not very fancy. They see me through that same love lens.
My BFF has hounded me for years to write a book. She always says this as if there’s no reason in the world I can’t be the next Elizabeth Gilbert! What is most likely an average talent in expressing myself, she sees through the love lens. My youngest son caught me singing in the car last week and said, “Hey Mom, you sing good.” I am fairly certain the boy may be partially deaf. I do not sing good…or well. Trust me when I tell you that the only thing Alicia Keys and I share is our first names. My vocal talent would likely cause some people’s teeth to hurt! But, my son hears me differently because I am extraordinary to him. I am afraid he may be losing his sight as well because he also thinks I look “beautiful” without any makeup. Bahahahahaha…..sure Noah, sure! Again, he’s looking through the love lens!
This is surely what the old saying “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” is meant to convey. The interesting thing is that when I allow myself to accept and believe in what they see, I do become more beautiful and extraordinary….from the inside out. And, better still, something has now shifted in me and I am noticing that everyone I meet is unique and special in THEIR own way. I know they are extraordinary as well.
So, If you feel sometimes that you are not really shiny, sparkly, or ornate enough……remember my plain ordinary butter knife! Allow yourself to see what others see. Celebrate all of your gifts and talents no matter how average YOU think they are. I assure you that to someone you are NOT completely ordinary, not so special or not worth much and you ARE definitely not disposable! You, my friend, may actually be EXTRAORDINARILY ORDINARY!
I have a stamp given to me by a dear friend and mentor that declares “I am more than what you see”. I loved it immediately because it seemed to speak to the fact that there is so much more than what people may see when first meeting me. An introvert by nature, I am truthfully more comfortable on my own than in a large group. Meeting a posse of acquaintances for Happy Hour or attending one of those mix and mingle open house type parties filled with 3 friends and 50 people I’ve never met before are my own personal versions of….oh…I don’t know, maybe having a root canal….on my birthday! Because of this, I think I sometimes seem shy or withdrawn, or (yikes) boring. The truth is that all that small talk makes me a little exhausted and I need to return to my nest for comfy clothes television watching…….preferably alone. Ahhhh! However, sitting for hours over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with one or two close friends…..well now THAT’S bliss! If you’re up for getting together to sit and share our inner most thoughts, dreams, heartbreaks and triumphs, well then I am your girl! I have easily spent 6 hours straight at Panera sipping coffee with a friend. I consider myself to be generally happy and friendly. I am quick to smile. It takes a lot to make me angry. I’m not grumpy……well….unless I’m confronted with people who clearly do not know how to drive…..seriously, it seems as if some people picked up their licenses at Walgreen’s, along with some gum and a soda! I really do enjoy people though. Let me clarify….I enjoy them one at a time…..not so much in giant groups that usually transform me into that one girl at the prom, without a date, trying to be invisible over there behind the refreshment table.
Anyway, I have been using my new stamp everywhere. I’ve been stamping up art journal pages like crazy. I’m declaring to all who peruse my creations that “I am more than what you see!” I’ve been making colorful, swirly, giant flowers and beautiful backgrounds for it. I think my intent was to convey that I am a bold, colorful, swirly, fun kinda gal even though I may appear withdrawn in certain situations. I also wanted to hint at the presence of depth and emotion under all the swirly flowery fun. Hence, the “more than what you see.” Wow, really so much more to me….I’m flippin awesome! You really do want to get to know me now, right??
As I was creating this page with its giant heart and swirly fun lines and shapes and beautiful bright colors, something very disturbing happened. My inner critic (who is a giant soul sucking, annoying bag of $#*@) started to whisper…who are you trying to fool? You’re not flowery and happy and beautiful…..You are fat and afraid and lonely and uneducated and lazy and worthless. She really is an ass. I couldn’t seem to make her shut up and before I knew it, I was filling the veins of the giant swirly beautiful heart with those hideous cruel whispers. Guess what happened? Even with all the ugliness ripping and winding its way through the loveliness of the heart….that colorful, swirly, beautiful heart was not ruined.
The truth is that it is incredibly easy to say we are more than what the world sees in us and mean that we are more interesting, more fun, more attractive, more…..perfect! It is not so easy to acknowledge, much less let anyone see, the parts of us that are profoundly hurting and messy and broken and ugly.
Do you have unspeakable pain and your own perceived imperfections and failures woven into your heart? Does your inner critic torture you like a relentless bully? It doesn’t matter what your critic whispers to you when it tries to convince you that you are anything less than your beautiful, brave, colorful, resilient self. Your heart is perfect just the way it is. I am discovering that we all have beauty and pain and joy and heartbreak and shame and redemption and vibrant color and maybe even oppressive darkness…..all woven together in our own unique hearts. Yes, I AM more than what you see….and YOU are more than what the world sees.