Making Atonement

Atonement is one of those scary words that is usually uttered with deep echoing timbre by serious people making a serious point.  Iv'e been thinking about atonement from a more light-hearted perspective.  See when you look the word up in, oh, say for instance, the Oxford American Dictionary, you find that it simply means to make up for some error or deficiency.  I may have a positive gift for atonement.  Seriously.  I think if I have a spiritual grace, it may be for the work of atonement. 

I love to discover that my friends have never done a or b - and then make it my goal in life to give them that experience.  See, they had a deficiency I made up for it - the work of atonement goes on.  Viewed from this perspective, atonement can be downright fun. 

In fact, by the time we reach adulthood, we all have little deficiencies in one area or another.  Some of us played too hard and we could use the encouragement and motivation to stretch our intellectual wings.  Some of us spent our high school years with our noses firmly buried in books and we need to cut loose a little.  You see where the fun comes in?  Finding ways to fill each other's deficiencies, may be the very best part of friendship. 

Nothing scary about that at all.  

Fried Green Tomatoes on a Sunday Afternoon

I took a nap today.  I almost never take a nap.  I don't ever think I have time.  And besides that I'm worried about what my kids might do while my eyes are closed.  They have trained me well.  Tim can sleep in, he has long ago mastered the art of rolling over and pulling that pillow over his head.  But not me.  No, my hyper-vigilant self is usually up and at 'em at least a half hour before the boys wake in the morning, and they are ALWAY up by 6:00. 

This afternoon all the stars aligned, or something and I took a nap.  I had been outside earlier.  It was my plan to make a bench from some 2x6's that I could place down in the grove for birdwatching.  But, its really, really HOT out there today.  And I'm really, really a big wuss.  So instead, I took a nap.

When I woke up there were all kinds of reports awaiting my attention.  The boys said, "Mom, we don't like playing on your computer."  They've been watching kids' television and apparently every stinking show out there has an associated web site.  So they decided to check 'em all out this afternoon. 

Michael said, "It's a good thing I know how to click that X." 

"Ummmmmm, what do you mean, Baby."  

"Well, this little box kept popping up that said, Yahoo Mail Alert!  But I knew how to click the X."  He paused, "Then one time this big window opened and it said something like "Hello, how is your afternoon."  I clicked X on it, too."

Oh, great!  The email I'm looking at now.  My friend who tried to IM me?  Well, I hope you're reading this and believe me that I didn't ignore you. 

Tim's report was simpler and more satisfying.  "I made fried green tomatoes."

Yummmmmmmmmm.

Exploring Creativity

I've been thinking (oh, stop that groaning!) about creativity.  The creativity in my life seems to ride a predictable cycle of productiveness alternated with dry spell.  The dry spells tend to frustrate me as I sit and stare at the blank white screen.  The productive highs frustrate me because I can't type fast enough to catch it all. 

Having just returned from vacation, I'm in a bit of a dry spell.  I'm more tired than I expected to be and even though I've been back almost a week, I'm still trying to catch up on household stuff.  So instead of forcing out a blog that will make me cringe later over the misspellings and the garbled thought structures, I'm going to post a quote from Julia Cameron's book Walking in This World.  She has wonderful encouraging things to say about the process of creation and art. 

So often we try to gird ourselves to face a harsh and difficult world when we might instead gentle both ourselves and our world by just slowing down.   

We worry rather than ruminate.  We fret rather than speculate.  Even foot-ball teams take time-outs, but it is so hard for us as artists to do the same.  So often we feel there is so much we yearn to do and so little time to do it.  We could take a cue from music here:  "Rest" is a musical term for the pause between flurries of notes.  Without that tiny pause, the torrent of notes can be overwhelming.  The torrent of our lives can be the same. 

Even God rested.  Even waves rest.  Even business titans close their office doors and play with the secret toys on their desks.  Our language of creativity knows this.  We talk about "the play of ideas," but we still overwork and underplay and wonder why we feel so drained. 

A friend of mine, a glorious musician, works on two faculties and tours internationally.  Sometimes his great voice, an instrument of beauty as large and soaring as a pipe organ, reaches my ear haggard with fatigue.  His great strength becomes his greatest weakness.  He forgets to rest.  

As artists living with the drone of commerce, we have forgotten that "rest" is a musical term, and that to hear the music of our lives as something other than a propulsive drumbeat, driving us forward as the war drums drove men into bloody battle, we need to rest.

The ego hates to rest.  The ego doesn't want to let God, or sleep mend up the raveled sleeve of care.  The ego would like to handle all that itself, thank you very much.   As artists, we must serve our souls, not our egos.  Our souls need rest. 

Julia Cameron, Walking in This World, p 28

I hope you will have a restful weekend.  See you on Monday. 

Oh, My Goodness

Buckle up folks, I have a fire in my bones and I can feel a sermon rising.

A couple days ago someone left this comment in response to my profile picture, "Although I may not know you personally, I get a sense (call it woman's intuition if you would like) of goodness in you that so many others (as I) lack."  I understand that the person who said this meant it kindly, and I accept that kindness in the spirit it was offered.  My thinking over my response to this comment is part of what prompted me to post the Rights yesterday.  Usually when we think of escaping from the judgment of others, we have a mental image of the sour faced church-lady telling us we've been bad.  In my own life, the more subtle and dangerous judgments come from those who would paint me in the light and color of some extra "goodness." 

See, I want to be good.  I want to believe the best of myself and to have the admiration of those around me.  I want people to look at me and think, when I grow up, I'd like to be like her.  Id love to think that I've achieved perfection.  I'd love to think that I've 'arrived' in my journey.  I'd love to feel superior, enlightened, wise. 

I'm no more or less good than anyone around me.  I get angry and frustrated when things don't go my way.  I would happily control my family, my friends, and the neighbor's pet iguana if I could.  Oh, yes, my natural inclination is to do whatever I have to do to have my own way, to indulge my private pleasure regardless of its impact on you.  But the truth is that if I follow through on that inclination, I hurt myself, I hurt you, and the neighbor's iguana isn't too happy either. 

I have ethics.  I don't always live by them or up to them.  My highest ethical position is to cooperate with the Great Creator.  It's my task to use my life and opportunities to increase compassion, joy and peace.  It's my calling to receive grace and to extend mercy.  It's my purpose to behave toward every person I touch as though I believe in my heart what I know in my head - that they have a worth beyond all measure and accounting - that they are a child of God.  

My favorite Bible verse sums up our ethical responsibility this way, "He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."  I've seen that verse on posters and bumper stickers.  But if you want to really get the flavor for how radical this verse is, read it in it's context.  The prophet Micah was on quite the soapbox leading up to this conclusion.  The people have fallen into the habit of lying manipulating abusing and oppressing.  They are living by the dog eat dog principle of social Darwinism.  You can't pay your rent because the crop has failed, the man is off to war,  the baby got sick - well that's too bad, I hope you enjoy your life in that box under the overpass.  Then the very people who are doing the oppressing are turning to the temple with sacrifices and offerings for their sin.  They lie prostrate before the altar in a FALSE position of humility and the prophet screams at them GET UP!  GET UP AND GET OUT!  The Lord doesn't want your SACRIFICES?!?!?!?  He wants your hearts.  When you have figured out that we are ALL the children of God and we are ALL due love, respect, mercy and kindness - that's the sacrifice God wants.  GET OUT!

The Rights

• the right to judge my own behavior, thoughts and emotions, and to take responsibility for their initiation and consequences upon myself.  It's not only a right - its an inescapable responsibility that we bear to judge our own behavior, thoughts and emotions - we have no choice but to accept responsibility for their initiation and consequences. - you can run but you can't hide.  Do you not know that you will judge the angels?
  
• the right to want what I want, to state what I want, and to ask others to help me get what I want.  There is no shame in having wants, there is no shame in revealing your wants to others, there is no shame in asking for help achieving your wants - it's wrong to deny your Self it's expression by refusing to acknowledge your wants, it's wrong to force another to help you.  When I am weak, I am strong.
  
• the right to be imperfect, to make mistakes and to accept responsibility for them. When a mistake is made, fix it.  Don't pretend that nothing has been done wrong, don't wallow in self-hatred and abject humiliation.  Receive GRACE! If therefore you are presenting your offering at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offerings and go your way! first, be reconciled to your brother, then come and present your offering.
  
• the right to offer no reasons or excuses in justification of my behavior.  This one is really hard for me, but it's really saying that in the end you are responsible to you, you are free from the control of all others.  This freedom can be terrifying, but it's real.  The compulsion to explain, excuse, defend my choices, offer justification - betrays me for holding onto a slave mentality.  We are not in bondage to anyone.  Unless we choose to be there.  Against You and You alone have I sinned.  You don't have to explain to God, He already knows.  You don't have to explain to anyone else, they aren't in your shoes.
  
• the right to decide if I want to be responsible for helping others find solutions to their problems.  No one has the right to force you or manipulate you into anything even if they have a legitimate problem which you might legitimately be able to help them solve.  Don't cast your pearls before swine ... tell your brother once, maybe twice, but then leave him rather than risk being drawn into sin.
  
• the right to reject the help of others.  The right to stand on your own two feet, to be self-sufficient, to refuse the control and manipulation of others.  Be wise, just because someone offers help doesn't mean that their help is really helpful.
  
• the right to change my mind.  Its too much to expect of ourselves that we will always get it right the first time, we have the right to try again in a different way.
  
• the right to my own logic or no logic in making my decisions.  Sometimes our decisions won't make sense to the people around us, that's okay, it's not their decision to make.  Think of the many people through the ages who have done things that seemed illogical or foolish to the people around them who we now honor as people "ahead of their time."
  
• the right to say, "I don't know" or "I don't understand."  People have a tendency to shame each other for admitting 'I don't know' - you don't have to be available for this shaming, you have the right to be less than omniscient.  Now we know in part, we see in a cloudy mirror.
  
• the right to say, "I don't want to" without feeling guilty.  You have the right to say "no". 
  
• the right to feel and express anger. You either let it out or it eats you alive, you have the right to refuse to be rage's dinner entree.  Sometimes the most righteous thing we can do is turn over the tables.
  
• the right to feel a healthy competitiveness and achievement drive.  The drive to achieve is normal and healthy, too often lesser humans will snipe at those who are rising because they are fearful of other's success, you don't have to accept their judgment ~ there's nothing wrong with achievement.  Run your race to WIN! 
  
• the right to have my needs be as important as the needs of other people. Other people's needs are important, but they are not MORE important than your needs.  You don't have to take care of others at the expense of yourself.  This one is particularly difficult for me with my need to control and rescue other people.  If I'm not careful, I allow people to take over and use me as an enabler, instead of them taking responsibility for themselves, I take it on for them.  This never, never, never, never works.  Inasmuch as it is up to you, live in peace with other people ~ know that it isn't always up to you.
  
• the right to do less than I'm humanly capable of doing. This one is another of those living up to other people expectations things.  You don't HAVE to do that.  It's okay to rest, to take like slowly, to enjoy your time on spaceship earth instead of always rushing to do the next thing, and the next thing.  See the lily of the valley?  It neither toils nor spins yet I tell you that even Solomon in his robes was not dressed so well.
  
• the right to do things others would not approve.  St. Thomas Aquinas' family disapproved his becoming a monk, they tried to force him to change his mind, they kidnapped him and locked him in a room with a naked woman ... but they were wrong.  Thomas may be an extreme example, but there are people in the lives of everyone who will disapprove no matter what decision we make, we have to learn to be strong enough to accept that they disapprove without being controlled by their disapproval.  They have rights too.
  
• the right to have and express my own opinions. I don't have the right to force you to accept my opinion or adopt it as your own.  I don't have the right to co-opt your opinion without doing the work to arrive at the conclusion for myself.  

Getting it Right

What does it mean to be a fully actualized human being?  I consulted the book Peoplemaking for yesterday's blog and since then I've been rereading this wonderful book that paints a picture of the way that healthy humans relate to each other. 

Human beings living humanly are people who understand, value, and develop their bodies, finding them beautiful and useful.  They are real and honest to and about themselves and others; they are loving and kind to themselves and others.  People living humanly are willing to take risks, to be creative, to manifest competence, and to change when the situation calls for it.  They find ways to accommodate what is new and different, keeping the best parts of what is useful and discarding what is not.  When you add all this up you have physically healthy, mentally alert, feeling, loving, playful, authentic, creative, productive, responsible human beings.  These people stand on their own two feet, love deeply and fight fairly (and effectively.)  They are on equally good terms with their toughness and their tenderness and know the difference between them.

When I got down my book a sheet of paper fell out.  It was a list of human "rights."  I haven't looked at it in years, but I read over it last night and I've been thinking today about the way I view these rights.  When I started down the list, I was thinking about people in general and I heartily endorsed their right to be fully human, to take for themselves the prerogatives which in fact can never legitimately be reassigned.  In addition to the right to life, liberty and pursuit of happiness these rights are inalienable. 

Then I thought about myself and realized that I'm pretty harsh and judgmental when it comes to evaluating my own behavior, thoughts and feelings.  In fact the thought of asserting many of these rights on my own behalf made my stomach clench and a bitter taste to choke me.  You think perhaps I'm exaggerating?

I'll give you an example, close to the end of the list is "The right to do less than I'm humanly capable of doing."  I pictured myself answering a request, "Yes, I could do that, but I'd rather not ____"  I could not imagine myself saying that without immediately offering reasons and assuming that I would have to placate someone I'd just disappointed. 

I'll be meditating on this list for the next several days, would you like to see it?  Would you like to add your thoughts about it?  Would any of these rights be difficult for you to assert?  Is there one that yo uthink doesn't belong on the list?  Is there another that you think has been left off?

The Rights

• the right to judge my own behavior, thoughts and emotions, and to take responsibility for their initiation and consequences upon myself.


• the right to want what I want, to state what I want, and to ask others to help me get what I want.


• the right to be imperfect, to make mistakes and to accept responsibility for them.


• the right to offer no reasons or excuses in justification of my behavior.


• the right to decide if I want to be responsible for helping others find solutions to their problems.


• the right to reject the help of others.


• the right to change my mind.


• the right to my own logic or no logic in making my decisions.  [This is another that was particularly difficult for me to picture asserting.]


• the right to say, "I don't know" or "I don't understand."


• the right to say, "I don't want to" without feeling guilty.  [the right to say "no". 


• the right to feel and express anger.


• the right to feel a healthy competitiveness and achievement drive.


• the right to have my needs be as important as the needs of other people.


• the right to do less than I'm humanly capable of doing.


• the right to do things others would not approve.


• the right to have and express my own opinions.

Unmasking on the Internet

"Be careful, people in masks are not to be trusted." (Fezzik to Inigo)

One of the first things I noticed about the people I saw in Orlando, is how very much of them I saw.  Here in Indiana, people pretty much subscribe to the rule that if you have a body, you should clothe it.  I live in Amish country where on the hottest day of the year, a substantial portion of the community will be wearing long sleeves.  In Florida, well, I think the difference is that it's just too hot to bother with putting on clothes that you'll have to change by mid-afternoon due to the unpleasant accumulation of humidity (and sweat) in the fabric. 

Even here in Indiana, the young, smooth, and firm show a bit of skin.  I'm used to seeing sassy little teens in crop tops and low cut jeans or boy-cut shorts.  Most of the men around here seem comfortable going shirtless while they are mowing the yard if not while they are shopping for milk.  What I'm not used to seeing are middle-aged women with large bellies hanging out beneath their halter tops.  I didn't even know you could buy bikinis in those sizes. 

I bought a new suit while I was there.  I'll be honest, I considered some of the two piece and skimpier models but I chickened out.  Partly my reasoning went like "You are in Florida - this is not the time or the place to reveal parts of you that have not seen the sun in 20 years - unless you have a real desire to spend the last days of your vacation in a hospital."  But the second part went like - "oh, man.  Nobody has seen my stomach since I gave birth.  I even keep that little white gown in place when I visit the doctor.  There's no WAY I'm going to have total strangers checking out the pattern of stretch marks I've picked up."  Never mind that almost every woman on the beach had her own pattern of stretch marks and no one fainted at the sight.  So my new suit is a lot like my old one.  It covers me up.  Mostly.  Thinking about going bare on the beach got me started thinking about the other ways I cover up and about the things I reveal. 

My favorite movie of all time is The Princess Bride.  I'm pleased to say that my children have it completely memorized and we quote its lines regularly.  I especially enjoy the sequence after the bumbling villains kidnap the princess when they are pursued by the Man in Black who gradually drops his mask to reveal his skills, his purposes, and himself.  The Man in Black scales the cliffs of insanity, duels a master swordsman, conquers a giant, and out-cons the con man.  Each of these scenes give us a little more and a little more information about the character.

"Why do you wear a mask, were you burned with acid or something like that?" (Fezzik)
"Oh, no!  It's just they're terribly comfortable.  I think everyone will be wearing them in the future."  (Man in Black)

Virginia Satir, the noted family therapist, writes in her book, Peoplemaking that "When people feel they have little worth, they expect to be cheated, stepped on, and depreciated by others.  This opens the way to becoming a victim.  Expecting the worse, these people usually invite it and usually get it.  To defend themselves, they hide behind a wall of distrust and sink into the terrible feeling of loneliness and isolation.  Thus separated from other people they become apathetic, indifferent toward themselves and those around them.  It is hard for them to see, hear, or think clearly, and therefore they tend to step on and depreciate others.  People who feel this way build huge psychological walls behind which they hide, and then defend themselves by denying they are doing this."

Writing here on Xanga gives me a comfortable place to reveal small bits and pieces of my psyche.  Oh, I've told you all kinds of things about me.  But I've felt safe behind walls of psychological and physical anonymity.  You read my words, carefully chosen and stripped of the body language and vocal inflection that would give you cues in real life as to whether I'm being serious or sarcastic, gentle or disingenuous.  So I write as though I expect that you will give me the benefit of belief that I'm a nice person, (and you do extend me that benefit.)  Plus you guys are just almost too supportive.  When I express views that you disagree with, you do me the honor of saying that you disagree without expecting me to change my own opinion.  If I write that I'm interested in finding out how to be kinky, you don't lift an eyebrow in judgment, you offer me suggestions for getting started.  At the same time, I'm comfortably aware that you could meet me on the street and you wouldn't recognize me.

I had read William Goldman's book on which the Princess Bride screenplay was based several years before the movie was released.  I still remember the line on the cover of the paperback that caused me to pick it up.  "What happens when the beautiful princess is chosen by the handsome prince, and he turns out to be a son of a bitch?"

None of us start out wearing masks.  Little children are absolutely transparent.  What you see is what you get.  They speak their thoughts honestly and express their emotions as soon as they feel them.  Over time we teach children to consider the feelings of others.  We socialize them with manners to smooth their interactions and to preserve their own and other's dignity.  But the masks don't get sealed in place until they begin to encounter rejection.  Everyone is rejected at one time or another.  It hurts.  We learn to protect ourselves in various ways.  If the rejection was intense, our defenses become fortresses.  Determined not to hurt that way again, we hide our true selves.  That way if we encounter another rejection, we have the consolation of knowing that the person rejected wasn't our real self.

"Who are you?" (Princess Buttercup)
"I'm no one to be trifled with, that is all you ever need know."  (Man in Black)

One of the platitudes of family therapy is that "hurt people, hurt people."  I'm not suggesting that we dish out pain intentionally.  But in practice the more a person has been hurt the more he or she tends to hurt the people around.  No where is this more apparent than in a family.  We all want our home to be a safe place, the one place we know we can go for unconditional acceptance and grace.  In reality we all know that our homes are only safe to a degree on a sliding scale.  We don't have to live with an abuser to learn that it's a good idea to check with the mood of the other person before we reveal our own vulnerable side.  Tiredness, indifference, stress, and other symptoms of our complicated lives frequently cloud the channels of communication so that even people committed to love each other wound each other.

In the Princess Bride, we learn that the Man in Black is Princess Buttercup's own true love.  He hides himself because his feelings have been terribly hurt by her engagement to Prince Humperdinck.  His choice to veil himself in his initial encounter is completely understandable to us.  He doesn't know her heart and he reasonably fears the rejection that she may dish out. 

He doesn't stop at masking himself though.  From his position of relative safety he lashes out with his accusations of unfaithfulness.  He taunts the Princess with his perception that she has betrayed him and projects his fear open her.  Pushing her further and further into her own pain, he sets up the scenario in which she reaches the breaking point and pushes him over the edge of the ravine.

There is a way out of the cycle of pain and concealment.  Through the fireswamp where rodents of unusual size, hidden quick sand, and flamespouts wait to attack, trip, consume and burn, lies the path that ends in the horrible moment of nightmare.  Even though she now knows all, Princess Buttercup chooses Humperdinck all over again.  What's a Man in Black to do?  Well, it's a romantic comedy after all so he (and we) know that Buttercup's heart is true and it will all work out in the end.

In life, we don't have a script.  Sometimes we battle the monster and overcome our issues only to be hit with the exact rejection we feared all along.  The risk that accompanies the dropping of the mask isn't a fairytale or a game, it's real.  And the greater the risk the greater the potential that it will end every bit as badly as we fear. 

One of my "easy" issues has to do with my appearance.   I would love to be a statuesque blond.  I'm not.  There are very few pictures of me in existence.  I'm the picture taker, so I'm rarely in front of the camera.  This has been a convenient excuse for me to avoid posting photos of myself here.  But if I confront my secret hopes I find that I'd really like for you guys to imagine that I look like my fantasy of myself as the beautiful princess.  I've talked here before about body image and some of my hang-ups about meeting people who've only known me here.  I project onto them my own rejection of my appearance and I expect that when they meet me they will like me less because I don't match the fantasy.  There is an obvious cure for this fear.

You may notice that I've got a new profile pic.  I took that photo myself after we got home from Florida.  That's me, up close and personal with the laugh lines around my eyes.  Posting it there was a big step.  Now I'm considering what other masks may need to be discarded. 

Fugitive is posting again and by all appearances seems to be sassier than ever - if you haven't stopped by her site, swing by (after you finish reading mine) and welcome her back!

New Favorites

I have a new favorite album.  My cousin had recommended that I pick up Josh Groban, so while I was strolling about the Virgin Superstore in Downtown Disney, I noticed it on the display.  I listened to it for the first time on the drive home and I'm in love.  This man has a voice like warm chocolate.  About half the album features songs with Italian lyrics, and I'll feel quite foolish if I discover that they are some trivial topic because they make tears run down my face as I listen.  His cover of Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring is superb, You're Still You and To Where You Are both ring with a richness of tone that goes almost outside the bounds of description.  Tim says that the songs on this album only take about 6 minutes to sing, but 20 minutes to listen to.  I like that line even though he was using it to needle me about my habit of hitting the replay button at the end of a particularly moving song.  My personal favorite on this album is Let Me Fall.  It's a song from the Cirque du Soleil show, Quidam, which I now have on my wishlist for purchase at the first opportunity.  Yes, I was IN the Cirque du Soleil store less than a week ago, but I had no idea I would NEED to have this video.

You can visit the Josh Groban website at www.joshgroban.com where I think they make it possible to preview the songs.  I went there looking for the lyrics so I could sing along. 

Let Me Fall

Let me fall.
Let me climb.
There's a moment when
fear and dream must collide.
Someone I am is waiting for courage.
The one I want, the one I will become
will catch me
so let me
fall.
If I must fall,
I won't heed your warnings
I won't hear them.
Let me fall,
if I fall.
Though the Phoenix
may or may not rise,
I will dance so freely
holding on to no one.
You can hold me only
if you too will fall
away from all these
useless fears and chains.
Someone I am is
waiting for my courage.
The one I want, the one I will become
will catch me
so let me
fall
if I must fall.
I won't heed your warnings
I won't hear.
Let me fall
if I fall.
There's no reason
to miss this one chance
this perfect moment
just let me fall.

Home Again with Pictures

I'll leave this up for about 24 hours then I'll take it down because of the pain of waiting for many photos to load.  But as promised - vacation pictures.

Mickey with all the "kids"  Tucker is hugging the mouse, then in front are Jared and Michael.  Jordan is in the center next to Mickey and Kate is in back.

Lunch at the Crystal Palace ~ around the table from left to rght are Jared, Jordan, Michael, Tim, Tucker, Kate, Cheryl, and Maureen.  Kate said that being a part of a group wearing identical tee shirts was about the strangest thing she ever wanted to do and that she would ONLY do it for me.

Tucker with Tigger

Cheryl at the beach on Santa Rosa Island

Kate with Jared buried in sand.

Michael, Me and Tucker on the Beach.

Michael and Tucker shopping for souvenirs

Thursday Thoughts

Cirque du Soleil is everything I've been dreaming about since I first heard of them over 13 years ago.  You would think that I would be content to rest knowing that I'd finally gotten my wish, but true to my nature, I left the performance last night with a new goal.  La Nouba is Cirque's "family" show.  Now I want to see the Las Vegas "adult" version. 

Today is Disney's Animal Kingdom day.  Lions and Tigers and Sunstroke - oh, my.  The park closes at 6 pm and I'm pretty sure that the crew here will shut down soon thereafter.  We've had a fantastic vacation.  We've done Disney Parks, Universal Studios, Dinner Shows, beaches, shopping and just plain lying around at the pool.  We could stay here another month and not do it all.  Okay, so we'd have to win the lottery to finance that month, and it would probably kill us - but what a way to go~!

Many, many thanks to you all for the kind Birthday Wishes yesterday.  I don't remember when I've ever enjoyed a Birthday more. 

Figuring it all out ...

Today is the last day of my 30's.  My birthday celebration officially began when we pulled out of our driveway headed to Florida seven days ago.  So I've had an entire week to think about it, enjoy it, dread it, and internalize it.  I'm entering a new decade.  (Yes, I'm still on vacation but my husband brought his work laptop so from time to time it's available to me for checking email and writing the emergency Xanga post.)

When I turned 30 I spent at least six months in a state of wonder, "I can't believe I'm 30 years old and I still haven't ..."  For some reason each new experience was a surprise and a delight.  Being 30 actually felt much younger than 29 because at 29 I wasn't taking notice of the little things.  At 30 each new moment, every novel experience felt like a gift that had been held in reserve for me.   My 30s at least in the beginning were all about feelings.   

So far 40 seems to be largely about appearance.  I've never considered myself to be an especially attractive person.  Even when I was at or near my ideal weight I felt large and awkward.  Any level of reality check should have disabused me of the notion, there is no way that a 5 foot nothing woman weighing 115 pounds could ever be described as "large."  But self-image and concept, I've learned is rarely about reality.  

Now in addition to my worries about size I have the added concern that the 40 year old face has character written all over it.  I have laugh lines at the corners of my eyes, and the fold at the corner of my mouth isn't just a dimple.   When I meet people I've known only through the Internet, it's a primary concern that I won't be as attractive in person as they have imagined me from reading this site.   You know, if I thought that the people meeting me expected me to be as shallow as apparently I think they are, I'd be offended.

Part of my taking a look at myself has been taking a good look at the people around me.  Really stopping to think about who I find to be attractive and who I don't.  Now this may reveal that I do in fact possess the depths of a wading pool, but I've been surprised to realize that what I find to be attractive is far far removed from the images I've seen in magazines and on the screen.  Honestly, how self-UNaware can one person be?  Or maybe it's a lack of confidence in my own judgment that I think well, yes *I* think that so and so is a beautiful person, but hey, I could be wrong.  I'm becoming disgusted with myself as I'm typing this.  Of course there is an element of truth in the notion that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but it seems to me that I've never given myself true beholder status. 

Take for instance the woman vacationing in the condo next to mine.  I'm not in the habit of "checking out women" but every time this woman walks past she has my undivided attention.  She may possess the single most beautiful body I've ever seen.  I estimate that she's in her early 30's (no laugh lines at the corners of her eyes) and I know that she's given birth.  Yes, there are a couple of children calling her mom, but I would have known anyway because of the thin stretch marks on her rounded belly.  I'm guessing that she's about seven inches taller than I am and I'd also guess that her jeans would be a size 16.  She is gorgeous.  I've been trying to figure out exactly what it is that makes her so beautiful.  She has an average face, and soft proportions.  Part of it is her interaction with her family, much of it is the way that she moves.   I've finally decided that the main reason that she appears beautiful is that she so obviously feels beautiful.  I don't mean vain.  I don't sense any of the very unattractive pridefulness of vanity.  I mean that she's a woman completely comfortable with her appearance and that's something I've only seen a few times in 40 years.  Its magnetic. 

Appearance has been a big topic of conversation on this trip.  My sister has recently lost 70 pounds and is adjusting her perceptions of herself to fit her new proportions and reality.  My friend Maureen has always been small, but she has her own issues.  When Maureen was a very young woman she was in a car accident that almost destroyed her face.  Her jaw was broken in several places and she has a network of scars that crisscross her cheeks and chin.  To her these scars are a big deal.  To me, well, I had known her for over a year before I ever realized that she had scars.  When Tim and I talk about new people we, meet one of the standards we use for description is whether the person is as pretty as Maureen.  Kate, the 19 year old, has expressed her own discomfort at having a body that doesn't fit the airbrushed images that she's internalized as the standard for female beauty.

I've been trying to figure out how to download pictures from my digital camera to Tim's laptop so I could show you our motley crew and you would have a frame of reference for my musings.  I'm not the most intuitive user on the planet and I can't seem to make the camera talk to the computer.  sigh.  I'll keep trying.