Worlds Collide

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I love seeing people become friends and connect.  I love the stories of how people met, or know each other.  One of my best friends and I love to tell the story of our first meeting.  We even fight about it and cut in on each other like an old married couple.  It’s great fun!

Lately I’ve found my connections are varied, wide, and cross over.   Part of it, but not all of it, is the fact that I grew up and lived in the same neighborhood for my whole life.  And I don’t live in a small town.

I should also note that I went to public school, but not my neighborhood {two blocks out my front door} high school.  This means my circles were broadened.  I also went to a big university, ok moderately big, but lots of room for meeting people.

Last week, I went to a meeting of college and post college people, and my worlds collided in one room.  There were people from my high school, people that I knew when they were 7, and people I met last weekend.  There were people I’ve known for most of my life, people I’ve known for a few months and people I’ve known for a few weeks.  And it was crazy because some of them knew each other.   Even last night I got asked by a friend that was there that night, ‘How do you know so-and-so?’

The reasons we know each other are crazy.  It can by choice or circumstance.  It can grow or can trickle off.  It takes work to keep up contact, yet sometimes people collide.  And when we collide we cross over, above, and underneath each other.  We create a web.  We become intertwined.  Our stories although our own, become a part of another’s through connection and relationship.

Even when you know no one in a place, there is a connection.  Someone you know, knows someone or something about that place.  Somewhere there is a connection.  And believe me you can find it.  But it takes listening, it takes sharing, and sometimes it takes lots of questions over a long period of time.  I promise you, you have connection.  We were meant to build relationships and relationships {most of them} are built out of connections.  Isn’t it crazy wonderful how they shape our stories!

How are your worlds colliding?  How do you know so-and-so?  Was yours a chance meeting or a deliberate collision?  What’s your craziest world collision story?

Punching Fear in the Face

Those chessy inspirational sayings, I find them annoying. 

I mean look at one. 

The first time it might be awesome and pleasing to the eye. 

The second time it’s cute, a good reminder. 

The third time its lame. 

And well after that I think I get more out of them because it’s so annoying. 

 

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But today I appreciate them.  Most of them are true my station in life today, yesterday, and the day before that. 

And here is why…

Opportunities, the ones I’ve been waiting for, praying for, hoping would become. 

They became.  All at once.

The other day, amidst the decisions, I almost took one by saying “I am so fearful of the unknowns of that particular one.  I want to take it, just to punch fear in the face.”  But I’m really glad that I didn’t, you know punch fear in the face, because I think fear can punch back pretty hard.  And let’s be honest, I don’t have a very good right hook.

My graduation cap said Adventure is out there.  And I believe that adventure is out there, because it’s in making the moments, monumental.  It’s in making the insignificant, important.  It’s not in making everything a big deal, but in realizing that certain things are of great importance.  Experiences shape.

I need to be reminded that life is an adventure, and I should live it as a great one.  And I need to be reminded that fears should not confine my thinking, but rather expand it.  When I am fearful, it is often because I created the boundaries and dictated the rules.  In an adventure, there are no rules. 

Rather than punching fear, I want to be freed of its companionship.  Fear does not belong as a part of my adventure.

Dressed in Capability

When I watch the Oscars I watch for the dresses and well the musical performances, but mostly the dresses.  But… I’m not going to give you a rundown of my favorites or a list of my top dressed.  Instead, let’s talk about art.  See I love looking at dresses, and drawing them, and trying them on.  My friend went wedding dress shopping and I loved it…mostly.  Bridal shop, please adjust your lighting.  Please.

 

A few years ago I picked up a retro drawing of a dress in LA.  It lived on my bulletin board in college and made it into a shadow box that lived on my bookshelf for a few years.  When I go into a thrift shop I’m the one who takes FOREVER looking through all the patterns and looking for the retro, vintage ones.  I have a pattern for a slip from the 50’s, which I bought fabric for, and was going to make for my senior year prom dress.  Yeah, that didn’t happen.

 

This brings me to some art pieces that I saw and love the retro look.  You know what I also love, the statement. 

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I’m not going to go all feminist on you.   I’m just going to tell you that I am capable.  Honestly, I am much more comfortable in a dress than wielding a power tool. 

But, there are some days that I want to show you that I am tough. 

Capable

I can get dirty. {Ok, I’d prefer my dirt to be flour over mud}

 I can saw down a tree in the mountains. {Christmas trees count!}

I can dig a hole. {Although I’d like the hole to then hold a flower plant or vegetable garden}

I can hammer a nail. {Picture frames up on the wall, check}

I drive a manual car.

I have jumped a car battery multiple times, sometimes without assistance.

I can mount TVs to walls. {Mini tool sets are useful}

I can operate heavy equipment. {Yay tractor driving}

All this to say, I want to be confident in my abilities and to exercise my capabilities.  I also want to embrace my love of the swish of fabric and the click of heels.  I’m learning how to blend the two.  And I’m learning how to show that I am capable.

What are you capable of?