For You.

For you whom I spoke to who then took something from my purse. For you who complimented me and then deceived me. For you who carefully left everything in tack except for my bank cards and my varying ID's. For you who knew what you were doing. For you who went to Home Depot, 711, QFC, and bought things with my identity. For you who had a moment to make a different choice, but did not. For you who smiled at me and then stole from me. For you who must feel there is no better option then to take from someone else.

 For you. I forgive you.

I am not sure what your name is, or if you are married, or if you have children, or where you live. I am not sure why you felt you needed to take those things from me on that day. I was in shock, we were at a public pool, it was a beautiful sunny day. My cards will be replaced, my money will be replaced, but my identity can never be replaced - because it is mine from the inside out. My life moves on, but perhaps this sits inside of you. I am not mad. Only sad. I wish more for you. You deserve more, when you take from another, you are taking from yourself because we are all one. I am not certain as to all the circumstances in your life, but I wish it gets better for you. There is more for you out there in this life. I wish you peace, I wish you the best.

Be.You.Tiful.

Beauty. It is an ever evolving concept and topic. Trends change, molds we need to fit in are re-shaped. It can be a battle to stay in and to keep up. Somewhere along the lines I stopped caring. I became less interesting in modeling and more interested in making a mold. As a teenager I think I was interested in fitting into the model mold, I had a body type that was current, and it appealed to me - and my ego. Then I wizened as I grew because I saw that I or that trend can change and the confidence from that validation is impermanent. I looked around and saw all the very different people of shapes and sizes that were deemed beautiful across the ages. I saw different countries and cultures that had totally differing opinions on the standard bar. Even in my own life I saw the waffling. When I was a ballet dancer I was told I could never be skinny enough, if I had no curves it was best. When I was modeling I was told it was good that I was thin but I should highlight my curves, my butt and boobs needed to be show cased. And, when I would volunteer in the prisons the kids would tell me daily I was too skinny and I needed to put some meat on my bones. Then I saw beauty mold makers and shapers who I thought were stunning like Audrey Hepburn who came out as a wisp like beauty in a fifties bombshell era. Or, Jennifer Lopez, who came out as a proud big booty owner in a sea of fake boobies world. Then everyone wanted to be like Audrey Hepburn or like Jennifer Lopez.

What am I trying to say? Don't buy the hype. If you fit into the current mold or not- who cares. Love yourself, love your body regardless. As the Tao Te Ching says "Whether you go up the ladder or down it you position is shaky, only when you have your two feet on the ground will you always have your balance." True beauty is self empowerment, healthiness, and confidence. Owning exactly what you are, as you are now.

Real Living.

Recently there was an eighty-one year old man that came to speak to a group of artists. He was a professional tango dancer, and had been his entire life. He danced, he performed, he toured, he taught. He talked to this group about dancing, form, art, posture, and living. In this brief lecture he said that after his performances many people would come up to him and tell him what an extraordinary dancer he was, and then they would ask him what he did for a living. He would tell them that he indeed danced for a living.

When he told this story there was a kindness but also an in-credulousness to the telling. Well, of course, he danced for a "living". He did what he loved, he did it everyday, and this is how he got so good at it. Why is there a separation between what we do, and what we do for a living? What we love, and what pays to do what we love. Mind the gap. There should be none. Do what you love, that's it, that is the "Real Living." 

Same Love.

Working with children. I sit, I listen, I mend, I heal, I fix, I laugh, I learn, but mostly I just try to care. A child turns to me, he runs over to me actually. He is four. He nestles his head on my stomach. He climbs up on my lap. He leans over to my face and puts his hand on my cheek. He comes to my ear and tells me calmly and quietly he loves me, he then leans back and looks at me and asks me if I am a boy or a girl.

It doesn't matter does it? He just asks because he is curious. The love is there regardless. I am at peace. And, in that moment I am reminded to check my vanity at the door. How dare he not know I am a girl, look at me? I am...eh, who cares. Love is love, it's all the same. The love is accepted, there is no ego any more.

Go Hug, or go Home.

I have volunteered on and off with children for a long time now. I love working with them, I always learn from them. I said to a four year old the other day "Can I have a little hug?" And he flatly, bluntly, and quickly said "No." Although I was fine with that answer, I was surprised, so I asked why. He said,"Because I only give big hugs." It was serious, direct, and very matter of fact. He then proceeded to pounce on me with an enormous bear tackle type hug with the entirety of his weight. I stood corrected. Big hug, or no hug. Go hard, or go home. There is no half way in anything. Give it everything you got, or don't give anything at all. That was my lesson. Thank you Professor four year old. I will only give big hugs from now on.

The Slow-Getter

You have heard of a "Go- Getter", generally it is stated as a compliment. They say, that person is a real "doer", a real "go-getter" they get things done and go after what they want. This person will be very successful in their life. This is also sometimes referred to as an ambitious person. Another term for it is perhaps a Type A person. Anxious, proactive, multi-taskers, that are often found in the workaholic camp...but these types of people are often highly regarded in our society as successful and their mode of being is respected and not to be disturbed.

So then, what about the less commonly referred to Type B personality? What even is a Type B personality? They are said to enjoy achievement, and work steadily, but not to the point of high stress. They are said to have less health problems, and have lower rates of disease. When they are faced with competition they seem to focus less on the loss and more on the enjoyment of the game they were involved in. They are not as goal driven, but seem to enjoy the process and the moment more. They often have less of a need to control and more of a need to collaborate. They are not in it for enjoying the winning of the race, but more the beauty of the run.

My friend once referred to these people as the "Slow-Getters."  There is no question I fall into this category. I talk slow, I walk slow, I eat slow, I drive slow. As far as I know I am the only person I have ever met that was pulled over for driving too slow. The officer laughed at me when I told him I was enjoying the view while I was driving. I have always tried to work smarter not harder, I have rarely done something I hated in the moment to achieve some goal down the line. I don't get stressed that often, nor so I like to be around stress. I don't really mind if I lose at something, but I always ask myself what I learned. I like to sit and do nothing, but be and feel everything. I love to enjoy my life, each moment of it, and I feel very comfortable with that choice. There is nothing wrong with being type A, in fact there are many times and places that it is very constructive. Alas, do not let society fool you either. There is also much to gain from the Type B perspective. It will get done, but the journey will also be enjoyed, and there is room for the ride.

Tall Trees Bow Low.

     It was Thursday. Thursday is the day I take Grandpa Bill for lunch. It has to be Thursday because Wednesday he has bridge club, another family member whisks him to lunch on Fridays, and there are other engagements I can't always keep track of. So, I covet Thursday. It is a beautiful thing to find a man near ninety with such a full dance card. It is never a question as to where we go to lunch. Pho. Every time, Pho. When he moved to Seattle ten years ago at eighty years old, he was first introduced to the Vietnamese noodle soup. It became a part of his and my grandmothers weekly routine. Three times a week they would go for a brief walk to stretch their legs and head for the noodle soup. Everyone at the noodle shop came to know them. They would arrive, and their order would be on the table before they could even take a seat.
     A few weeks ago I was taken back by the shops extra hospitality as we pulled up. One of the staff of the Pho came out and opened the doors for him as we came in. He ushered us to our seats, and made sure our settings were already on the table. He looked at Grandpa, and then looked at me and said "He is like the big tree, and I am nothing, I just bow down to him." And, with that he smiled and jaunted back into the kitchen to get our regular orders. Grandpa noted the comment, and beamed in full plumage without a word. I sat struck by the experience as I sucked noodles. I am not sure that they know each others name, I am not sure that they have been able to have a full conversation because of the language barrier, but when they see each other there is a fondness that surpasses idle talk. This man has brought soup to this man three times a week for ten years. This man nods when it's raining, this man smiles when it's sunny. This man waves hello, this man opens the door. It is a closeness of consistency and time. After my grandmother passed away, my grand father still went for Pho, but in time he felt that he needed to move to a different location for more assisted living. It was no longer possible to walk to the Pho. The first day he moved into the new home he asked to leave to go out to lunch for Pho. He wanted to know that at least that of some things might not change.
     I am not really sure how to age gracefully, I am not really sure how to help others to age gracefully. But, I know when I see it. Grandpa Bill has aged gracefully. He is a man content with where and who he is. He is content with his past, and content with his present. It is obvious in everything he does. But. for me never more obvious then when I watch  him eat a warm bowl of Pho soup served by a friendly knowing face.