Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Wicked.....or not.

WICKED has been in town for three weeks, and we went to see it last week. The book, by Gregory Maguire, was one of my all time favorites; intelligent, psychological, sociological, political, ancient and contemporary. I wondered how they could make a musical out of such a profound (and very long) book.
I'm glad I saw it, but it wasn't one I'd go see repeatedly. However, I've been listening to the original Broadway soundtrack, and it is wonderful. The last song is emotionally charged, so I thought I'd share the lyrics here, for those of you unable to see the production. The song is titled

"For Good".

(Glinda)
I'VE HEARD IT SAID
THAT PEOPLE COME INTO OUR LIVES FOR A REASON
BRINGING SOMETHING WE MUST LEARN
AND WE ARE LED
TO THOSE WHO HELP US MOST TO GROW
IF WE LET THEM
AND WE HELP THEM IN RETURN
WELL, I DON'T KNOW IF I BELIEVE THAT'S TRUE
BUT I KNOW I'M WHO I AM TODAY
BECAUSE I KNEW YOU...

LIKE A COMET PULLED FROM ORBIT
AS IT PASSES A SUN
LIKE A STREAM THAT MEETS A BOULDER
HALFWAY THROUGH THE WOOD
WHO CAN SAY IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER?
BUT BECAUSE I KNEW YOU
I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR GOOD...

(Elphaba)
IT WELL MAY BE
THAT WE WILL NEVER MEET AGAIN
IN THIS LIFETIME
SO LET ME SAY BEFORE WE PART
SO MUCH OF ME
IS MADE OF WHAT I LEARNED FROM YOU
YOU'LL BE WITH ME
LIKE A HANDPRINT ON MY HEART
AND NOW WHATEVER WAY OUR STORIES END
I KNOW YOU HAVE REWRITTEN MINE
BY BEING MY FRIEND...
LIKE A SHIP BLOWN FROM ITS MOORING
BY A WIND OFF THE SEA
LIKE A SEED DROPPED BY A SKYBIRD
IN A DISTANT WOOD
WHO CAN SAY IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER?
BUT BECAUSE I KNEW YOU...

(Glinda) BECAUSE I KNEW YOU...

(Both) I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR GOOD...

(Elphaba)
AND JUST TO CLEAR THE AIR
I ASK FORGIVENESS
FOR THE THINGS I'VE DONE YOU BLAME ME FOR

(Glinda)
BUT THEN, I GUESS WE KNOW
THERE'S BLAME TO SHARE

(Both) AND NONE OF IT SEEMS TO MATTER ANYMORE.
WHO CAN SAY IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER?
I DO BELIEVE I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER.

BECAUSE I KNEW YOU
I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR GOOD.

Maybe the lyrics are so touching because they are universal truth. Each person who comes into our lives imprints us and we learn something we need, whether we like it or not. Sometimes the things we learn are painful, or we think we don't want to know/feel that. But I do believe as life goes on and we look back, we see how important it was to learn that. And of course the people who touch us in profoundly good ways show us what we might become, or just remind us of who we already are. There is such grace in the feeling of gratitude about the people who have made us who we are. So, right now, I'm very thankful for all of you in my life who have changed me for good....and for the better.
Love to all.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

A Childhood Story; Old Memories

I remember pedal pushers. I remember riding my bicycle in pedal pushers. I remember being embarrassed about my bicycle.
My best (and only) friend Nancy had just gotten a brand new Schwinn bicycle, the newest style, shiny blue and white, with balloon tires and bright chrome fenders....and it was a girl's bicycle. I, of course, was jealous, so my Dad found me a "new" bicycle, larger than Nancy's and sleeker, the racing type, the precursor to a 3-speed, with skinny tires and a skinny frame. It was a boy's bicycle with no fenders...and previously well used. My Dad tried to fix it up for me, so he painted it bright red. I should have been thrilled with the bike, because it was way ahead of its time, but in truth, I was still jealous of Nancy's new bike, and secretly ashamed of my beat up, but newly painted one. The bigger truth is that I was always jealous of Nancy, who had everything I ever wanted.....thick brown ringlets, large dark eyes, straight A, attention from boys, picked first for the teams, and mostly a huge amount of confidence and self-importance.
When we were about 10 years old, we had seen a bicycle built for two. We used to sing at the top of our lungs as we rode our bikes, (here you can sing along too)..."Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do.......on a bicycle built for two." So, I guess it was inevitable that we would use our imaginations.
One day, Nancy and I, in our never ending quest of determining "What shall we do today?" decided to build our own Bicycle-Built-for-Two. Since my bike had no fenders, we figured we could remove my front tire and remove her back fender, and place my front forked frame over her back tire. I got my Dad's tools, and between the two of us, we managed to loosen the bolts on my front tire and remove it, Then somehow we got her back fender off, placed my forked frame over her back tire and bolted it on. I can't imagine now how we did it, but, voila, we were quite resourceful in those days.
Well, we were satisfied, and in fact, proud of our accomplishment. All we had to do now was get on the bike and sing to the tops of our lungs, :Daisy, Daisy" while we sailed down the street. She hopped on her beautiful blue Schwinn, I hoped on my red racer, and we pushed off together.
O.K. the thing we had not foreseen, though, was that the forked prongs from my front wheel were not only attached to her back tire, but were directly connected to my steering apparatus----the handle bars. By slightly turning my handle bars for balance, I could flip Nancy off of her bike. Instead of the front person having control, which Nancy always insisted on, I could tip her over within seconds, which I did numerous times in our attempts at going more that 20 feet. I wonder now if I secretly took great pleasure in the few moments of control I had, before she adamantly insisted that we dismantle our wonderfully creative contraption, and give her back her gorgeous, better than mine, bicycle, so she could once again be in control. Oh, the adventures of youth and naivete, eh?
Nancy and I had many (mis)adventures on our bikes in our pedal pushers.
Sometimes I marvel that I lived to tell the tales.

Love to all.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

A Discouragement and a Brag

Silly me, I thought everyone should like tie dyed clothing for little people. In February, my friend ordered some newborn outfits for a baby shower she was giving, and according to her, everyone raved about them. So, I got a long distance call from Albuquerque, ordering some onesies newborn tie dyed outfits for another baby shower, but it had to be a rush order. I dyed them in Albuquerque colors, with a wonderful spiral for a little tiny baby boy, and overnighted it. Well, after three weeks on not hearing anything, nor receiving payment, I began to wonder what happened, but I sat patiently by. In a few more days I got a phone call from my friend in Albuquerque, apologizing for not sending the money, but it seems like the recipient didn't appreciate the tie dye, and said she probably wouldn't dress her baby in any of it, so could it be returned? Of course I was happy to have her send it back, which she did, promptly. So then I was left with some wounded pride, wondering whether I should give up.
Allison's friend Heather wanted matching Easter outfits for her three little ones, so she ordered 3 matching hoodies, which she wanted in "Hard Candy" colors. (See Peaceful Ones )
I didn't get the first batch bright enough, but the second try was Easter colorful. She was thrilled, and I started feeling better. So here's the brag. Check out Heather's blog for a photo of the finished products. Thanks, Heather. I needed the success.
Love to all.

Monday, April 6, 2009

More Poetry and a prayer


Max Ehrmann (1872-1945) was noted for his most famous Desiderata poem, which begins "Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons......" It's a lovely, long poem to inspire us to be the best human we can envision. He also wrote other poems, less well known, so I thought I'd add one here. Perhaps I love poetry so much because in a few short lines I can be reminded of who and how I want to be, and these uplift me so easily. Enjoy!

A Prayer

Let me do my work each day; and if the
darkened hours of despair
overcome me, may I not forget the strength
that comforted me
in the desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright hours that
found me walking over

the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming
on the margin of a quiet
river, when a light glowed within me, and
I promised my early God
to have courage amid the tempests of the
changing years.

Spare me from bitterness and from the
sharp passions of unguarded
moments. May I not forget that poverty
and
riches are of the spirit.
Though the world knows me not, may my
thoughts and actions be
such as shall keep me friendly with myself.

Lift up my eyes from the earth, and let me not
forget the uses of the
stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest
I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamor of the world,
but walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what
I am; and keep ever
burning before my vagrant steps the kindly
light of hope.

And though age and infirmity overtake me,

and I come not within
sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me

still to be thankful for
life, and for time's olden memories that are good

and sweet; and
may the evening's twilight find me gentle still.



Years ago, when I facilitated Artist's Way groups, we had an exercise where we would be silent, listening inward, and write our deepest, most heartfelt prayers. That was a very powerful process for everyone, and most would copy them onto lovely paper and frame them to be daily reminders.
I know in our busy world, we don't take time to really put into words our deepest wishes, but it is so worth the time, because putting words onto paper is a powerful affirmation.
During this holy week before Easter, perhaps it would be a wonderful thing to think about.
Maybe if I ever get courageous, I'll print my own prayers here one day. Until then, keep praying.
Love to all.