I've been thinking a lot about my last entry about Don. Writing about Don made me think about fond memories of him; but it also made me evaluate myself and my own life.
I first started a blog when I was diagnosed with cancer and I found it easy to cast all my emotions out into the cyber wind to unload them off my chest. It was almost too easy to say anything that flew into my mind, especially when I was high on my chemo drugs. Believe it or not, I was careful not to mention some of the more personal things I was enduring during the whole ordeal because I felt I needed to retain what little dignity I had left. But for the most part, I’ve been willing to bare my soul on here, even if the exposing of my emotions are delivered in cryptic metaphors that leave people assuming. I typically don’t like using the internet as a device to break major news of death and destruction. Heck, I still prefer to handwrite thank you notes compared to thanking people in an e-mail.
A few months ago my friend Penny turned me onto a book called "The Happiness Project." I have about six books going at the moment and admit to not finishing it yet, but in the beginning, the author wrote a list of commandments that she wanted to start following in order to find her happiness and remain in it. Typically, I’m a happy person, but stuff’s been adding up lately and I thought it couldn’t hurt, so I made my own list. I won't share the whole list, but I will share a few of my commandments.
Number one was "Sing Every Day." There's not much that brings me greater pleasure in life than singing. When I am involved in a show or even a simple choral concert, happiness oozes out of my pores. Because I can't be in a show 365 days a year, I need to make sure that I'm singing every chance I get. I've always sung along with songs in my car, but now I really sing loud and just belt it out. I sing while doing the dishes and the girls and I have regular "rock out" sessions. Singing with the girls is the best. Aurelia pipes in loudly every third or fourth word and it just makes my heart melt.
Others that made the list are "leave the dishes in the sink and play," "listen to the stranger on the street and smile," and "celebrate accomplishments- even small ones." My favorite however, and the one that keeps popping into my head is, "Channel sixteen year old Frances."
No, I don't want to go back and redo high school, thank you very much. But, I realized how confident I was at sixteen. I could do and be anything I wanted to and my passion for adventure was through the roof!
I had a very rough time in elementary school and Jr. High. I was teased and harassed profusely by some of the popular kids and I hated going to school. I had friends, but it only takes a few mean kids to knock the wind out of a young girl's sails and let's just say my long geeky braids and high water pants were not helping my situation. My mother always told me, "Just be yourself." But when being yourself isn’t the trend, that’s easier said than done.
I went into my freshman year of high school scared to death to face another four years of torment, and then the most amazing thing happened- I was adopted by the cool "alternative" crowd of seniors and taken under the wings of two strong and amazing women, Linda and Laurel. They didn't give a shit about what anyone thought of them. They stopped calling me Frances and started calling me "Franny.” They invited me to do everything with them. They hung out with the cutest boys in school, turned me onto the Pixies, Nirvana and Concrete Blonde; and most importantly, they liked me for who I was. They even said I was beautiful. When you’ve been teased and called ugly for years, it is quite the confidence booster to be called beautiful. They (with the help of my mother and my teacher Clare Patton) gave me confidence to just not care what anyone thought. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t in a “screw the world” mode, but I was no longer worried about every negative thought someone might have about me.
My confidence and happiness followed me through high school, college and graduate school, but over time, it dissipated. I wasn't doing the things that I enjoy like getting outside on my bike, traveling, being in shows, or spending time with friends. And, I haven't had an adventure for years. There are a few reasons for this. For starters, I grew up and took on grown up responsibilities. I could no longer afford work for $4.75/hour and blow my wad on gear. I got "career" jobs and had kids and found it's harder to just take the month off and travel. Responsibility can really be a major downer. I want to clarify however that I am not blaming my children for any of this. People with kids find time for adventures all the time; it’s no excuse.
I often think that if Don could send me a post card today, what would it say? I think he would politely tell me to get off my ass and just make it happen. He would ask me why my kayaks have been sitting alongside my house growing moss. How is it that my passport with my married name doesn't have a single stamp in it? And, how is it possible, that I don't have a bike, the girl who prefers two wheels to four. Why? I'll tell you why. My beloved bike died a slow and painful death leading to it being announced DOA by my friend Henry who said, "I can fix anything!" and upon looking at it he said, "It's totaled." (To his credit, he could've fixed it, but it would have cost more to fix it than it would have been to buy a new bike.) RIP in green Trek, my traveling companion from coast to coast.
I used to believe my bike's death was no fault of my own, but now I realize I am every bit to blame because I was too scared to just take a stand for its health and well being. Just like I’ve been for myself. Sure, you get cancer and you have no choice to fight it because what else are you going to do? People say you're strong because you make it through, but I can guarantee that anyone who is faced with their own mortality is going to be strong because they have no choice. But when it comes to taking care of one’s emotional happiness and finding that sixteen year old with confidence, it takes way more strength in your mid-30s than you ever thought possible. You have to force yourself to want it and to make it happen.
I know I'm not going to be able to pack the girls up and fill their passports with stamps any time soon, and it's going to take awhile to afford a bike, but in the meantime, I'm sending a post card to myself and this is what it's saying:
Dear Franny-
Get off your ass and make it happen.
Seek adventure, even if it's an overnight camping trip in the backyard with the girls. Borrow a friend's bike and ride hard into the wind- but wear a helmet because you’re a mother now. Put yourself in an awkward situation and learn to do something new- even if you look like an idiot doing it.
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