Posts Tagged ‘be yourself’

Losing Gandalf…

Posted: April 7, 2015 in brain belches
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I’m getting old.
Oh, it’s true.
This little pirate is looking at 50.
I’m okay with that. I’ve had a really good time getting here.
I think life on the other side of 50 is going to be even better.
We are all aging.
It’s amazing how age just grows on you.
It’s also amazing how we try to fight it.
We don’t want to look our age.
We want to look young, fresh and vibrant.
We live in a cosmetic crazed culture.
We are obsessed with youth.
We try to go young.
People do a lot of cat scratch crazy stuff to look younger.
We nip, we tuck, we peel, we get Botox.
If you have done any of these, my intention is not to shame you.
My intention is to say you don’t need it. You are enough.
You are beautiful and interesting.

I look in the mirror and my face gets a little more interesting each day.
I discover new wrinkles, new bumps and blemishes.
I’m okay with that because each line contains a story…they shout “I LIVED!”
Laugh lines are my favorite, they announce that I lived and I laughed….alot.

When I Photoshop away my imperfections it seems that I also Photoshop away a fragment of my soul.
It seems that my imperfections and my soul are attached at the hip.
When did looking old become such a bad thing?
True attractiveness is found in the authentic.

Proverbs says “Gray hair is a crown of glory.”

I like that!

When we talk about getting a little work done, it should have to do with our soul or character, not our face.
When we value appearance over authentic we run the risk of losing our true selves.

Life is a journey.
We are meant to constantly going forward into uncharted lands…places we’ve never been.
As we travel we assemble a pack of experiences, memories, lessons learned, life lived.
We are moving from one season to the next.
We love…we learn…we leave…we LIVE!!!
Every season is meant to be lived to the full.
Enjoy young.
Enjoy old.
Enjoy the time in between.
We should celebrate each new season while holding onto the things that really matter from the previous seasons.
There is a wisdom that comes with getting older, but I think there should also be a great silliness too.
We should learn what should and shouldn’t be taken seriously.
We should learn what does and doesn’t matter.
We have to value the authentic, the real.

Wrinkles are a sign that we are growing into ourselves.

They should be worn like medals!
We have stories to tell and songs to sing.
They are written all over our faces.
Why would we erase that.

comparison kills.

Posted: April 1, 2015 in brain belches
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I wonder if Alexander the Great had a kid brother named Otis the not quite so impressive.

That would be a lot of pressure! “why can’t you be like your brother? He’s just so…great!”

We do that, don’t we?

We compare, we notice, we measure.

Comparison.

It comes from others…

Why can’t you be like your over achieving brother, super attractive sister, well-adjusted friend, etc. etc.

It comes from ourselves…

If only I had that job, body, situation, face, talent, house, etc. etc.

We compare.

We look at what others have and we use it as the ruler for our own standing.

We compare and it’s killing us!

Comparison is a deadly pastime, a not so silent killer.

It kills creativity.

It kills joy.

It kills dreams.

Comparison kills any chance of you being the one and only, super amazing YOU!

You get your eyes off your assignment…it is left undone.

YOU are the ONLY template for YOU.

There is no other.

You are the only YOU that will ever happen…EVER.

Comparison cheapens that.

Don’t compare.

It kills.

Don’t compare yourself, don’t compare others.

We sometimes use comparison as a weapon to kill the potential in others.

Comparison shuts down the spirit.

Comparison imprisons the heart.

Break the chains of comparison.

Notice and celebrate the “never before and never again”

There is completely original interestingness.

It’s in YOU, it’s all around YOU!

Never to be repeated, never meant to be duplicated.

Completely original interestingness.

The loving proof of a Master Creator with a wild imagination.

Why in the world would you want to kill that?

Staying Alive.

Posted: January 23, 2015 in brain belches
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I was about 12 years old and I was going to my first night club.

I was excited! Once a month the 20th century club (a very cutting edge establishment) had a Catholic youth disco night. It was on a school night and I was going! Why stay home…when you should be dancing!
I didn’t want to show up alone, I didn’t want people to think I was a loser.
So I invited my cousin…
My incredibly incredible cousin Carmen agreed to go, because she was (and is) a really kind person.
One of our Moms had a great idea…for us to wear matching outfits. We wore denim vests and purple shirts. I think there might have been sequins involved. We looked like part of the Osmond family.
I tried my hardest to look like Barry Gibb, I had a gold chain and shiny, plastic shoes. I put some of my Mom’s Aqua net on my hair and my Dad’s old spice on my face.
We got dropped off and I couldn’t wait to boogie.
I had been watching American Bandstand for a while so I was schooled in the fine art of disco.
I danced like crazy.
I danced with all my might.
I danced like someone was watching.
That was a problem.
I’ve since learned that It’s a whole lot more fun when we dance like nobody’s watching.
Just because we love the dance.
But, it turns out, THERE was somebody watching. An actual FEMALE somebody, who wasn’t related to me. I was doing some alluring moves to KC and the Sunshine Band, when I looked across the dance floor and there was a girl smiling at me! And…then…she…waved…me…over!
i was fairly certain that she wanted to dance or maybe elope.
This girl was about my age and she was cute. Feathered hair, a shiny dress and braces to match.
So, without breaking eye contact, I danced over to her. that’s right, I was that cool.
She smiled the whole time. The disco ball reflected off her retainer.
She was standing with some friends drinking a 7up.
I boogied up, ready to hustle her heart away.
She giggled and said “you are such a cute little boy!”
And then dream girl patted me on the top of my head like I was a puppy…SERIOUSLY.

that wasn’t the reaction I wanted. there would be no eloping that night.

Then she walked off with her friends.
I was crushed…humiliated…embarrassed.
I remember it like it was yesterday, because that kind of painful rejection parks itself on the dance floor of your psyche.
This girl saw me in a sweaty horde of preteen wanna be dancers and in comparison I looked like a little kid. I was smack dab in the middle of a crowd that was taller than me. If only the lighting had been better, she could have seen my mustache. Then it would have been undeniable that I was a MAN. instead she saw a puppy in a pen of big dogs. It was all about the surroundings.
It’s still true 40 years later.
I’m 5″1′ tall.
Honestly, I never really notice my height until I’m standing right next to people who aren’t 5″1′.
It’s really only in a crowd that I feel small.
I look around, and all I see are armpits. I lose myself in the crowd. It’s when I break away from the crowd that my differences don’t matter.
Let me share something unbelievably profound with you…

Ifyou want to STAND OUT you got to STAND OUT.

I know…that just blew your mind, right?
If you want people to get to know the real you STAND OUT, don’t blend in.
Why would you get lost in the crowd when you should be dancing?