Day 207: Delayed Morals

When I was in middle school I wrote a story, The Grape Brothers, for my friend's little brother.

It was a story about  - wait for it - brothers, who are grapes! And their desire for a different life than the one their family said was destined for them. 

It doesn't have a happy ending, though there is a silver lining.
Quench your curiosity and read the full story here.

At the time 12 or 13 year old me was writing the story, I had no plan for where it was going or the overall message or moral I was trying to deliver. Like many of my creative pursuits I was flying by the seat of my pants and open to wherever things landed.

Now, twenty years later (holy cow!!!), I see that past me may have actually been writing for present me.

You know the story synopsis, up top - telling of the Grape Brothers' desire for a different life than what their family has in mind for them?
I had no idea that was a theme of the story until writing this post today.

It took twenty years -
20 years of learning
20 years of experiencing
20 years of living
- to fully grasp the message Tween Sarah had unknowingly penned so long ago.

We all, individually, get to decide what we want for ourselves and our lives.

As the saying goes, the only certainty in life is death. But we have a whole heck of a lot more say in what happens before that than we are led to believe.

Vince and Carlos didn't want to be turned into wine or a tasty treat - so they literally charted their own path until they reached their end.

Maybe this is something we would do well to be reminded of more often?

Day 206: I love Purple [cars]

On many walks through my neighborhood I have passed by this car.

I think it's quite unique in color. You might agree. 

It's so unique in color that you'd think it would have captured my eye and compelled me to share upon the very first viewing. But for some reason, this was not the case.

It's almost as if I've somehow been desensitized to purple colored cars . . . like this isn't the first one I've seen . . . 

Oh my gosh! This ISN'T the first Easter egg purple car I've seen!!

It only took me dozens and dozens and dozens of walks past to realize. 

Could this be the same one I saw five years, two months, and two days ago?!?

At the time, I couldn't be sure. 

The only thing I was completely certain of was my burning hope the owner had hair to match.

Day 205: Creepy Request

 

Had this request come from anyone other than my sister, I would have been totally creeped out. But since it did come from her, I was only moderately creeped out.

 And then after an awkward moment, it was hilarious...

Day 204: Harry Caray

In Chicago, a city of two major league baseball teams, the name Harry Caray is well known. 

As one who is not a fan of the sport, my introduction to the man was seeing the name on a restaurant. 

For some reason, the sketch logo really stuck with me . . .

I had no idea how much so until I attended an event put on by the Harris Theater in partnership with the National Museum of Mexican Art.

It was a showcase of various Mexican performers - covering the broad sounds of the culture, both traditional and modern.

What does this have to do with the baseball radio legend?

THIS: Harry Caray in female form, ready to go in her baseball pinstripes

Spitting image. 100% identical.

Or in the words of my former co-workers:
Coworker 1: "They are 100% the same."
Coworker 2: "No, they are 80% the same."

Regardless of the exact percentage, even from behind the likeness is uncanny.

Second to the joy gained from making the visual connection, was witnessing her failed attempts at getting the perfect seat. One that was free from voluminous hair blocking her line of vision, that is.

Apparently, legendary glasses do not guarantee legendary sight.

Day 203: Just another day in the office

Hello? 

You want me to do what?? Work the night shift for my remote job where I have to answer phone calls that can't be routed to my cell phone? How am I supposed to answer the calls, then?

Oh, you're going to MAIL me a phone to use? 

And the port is only found in some buildings, not all?

This doesn't sound like a very efficient or sustainable way to do business, but yeah, I guess I can make it work . . .

Day 202: Intermediate Levels

Though I have no idea where this will go - I had to jump at today's post number to talk about the Intermediate Levels - the 200s.

I feel like a class I took in college must have been a 202.
On first thought, I would have said it was the online Diversity and Stratification class (which happened to be my favorite course in college).

But, no, I was wrong. The 202 class I took was actually  . . . a theater class?!

THE 202 Costume Design I  - as was required for my major: Clothing, Textiles & Design. Never would I have remembered if I hadn't looked it up (you're welcome).

And what a great example of what the Intermediate Levels are like -
realizing that Costume Design 1 was not just a textiles & design class, but a theater class as well!

In the 200s you think you know what's what and how to do things, but you are continuously met with new and unexpected information.

In some moments this can be interesting, exciting, and fun. While in others it can be a bit intimidating, frustrating, or even scary.

"Maybe you don't really know as much as you thought you did," you may start to think.

"Maybe you're not cut out for this," you may start to despair.

Well, let me give you some reassurance.

You do know as much as you thought you did - you just don't know EVERYTHING.

You are cut out for this. The only 'maybe' about it is the question of if you want to continue or not.

The Intermediate Levels are where we start applying the new learnings, insights, and awareness we have gained back in the 101s. 

The Intermediate Levels are where we try for ourselves.

And the Intermediate Levels are where we make a choice - to stay where we're at or to rise to the unknown.

Day 201: Hard Dreams

"If you can dream it, you can do it" - Walt Disney

So you've got to let yourself dream it.

Ironically enough, it's the dreaming, not the doing, that's the hardest part.

I should know, I'm experiencing it right now.

The first revelation I had in this direction was realizing that I wanted to be a[n] performer entertainer. I want to be on a stage and share my stories, humor, and experiences with others.

But for the longest time I didn't know that was an actual dream of mine (read - I just uncovered it this year).

Every time an idea in that ballpark floated through my head it was quickly squashed by the voice of my saboteur.

The older you get, the harder it becomes to really dream - and dream big. [Generally speaking]

As we age, we become more bogged down by what others tell us, comparisons, outcomes, and the illusion of absolute certainties. And to dream even slightly outside the box becomes challenging.

The crazy thing I've noticed is when we get to this point we unconsciously think we need to be given permission to dream big.
To go outside of our 'lane' or 'persona'.
To be unrealistic.
To ignore all impossibilities and potential obstacles.

Because of my own experience with this, let me say:

I give you permission to dream BIG.

Bigger than you've dreamed before.

Forget about logistics or how it will happen - just let your innermost desires out. Let them breathe and rise to the highest heights.

Dream so big is scares you.
(but in the excited way)

And know that there is No 'wrong' in dreaming.
There is No 'dumb' in dreaming.
There is No 'selfish,' 'foolish,' or 'childish' in dreaming.

I challenge you to dream up the craziest thing you can imagine!
And then do it again and again!
Believe it or not, dreaming takes practice.

No matter how seasoned of a dreamer you are - I believe in you and you deserve to dream and imagine your heart's desires. 

Go ahead - give it a try. You can do it!

*********

And if you DID give it a try and you were met with incoming thoughts even remotely close to:

But I can't to that...
But I wouldn't be able to do that...
But I don't do that...

Let's talk and we can work together to let your dreams take the reins.