Almost Famous

I love this movie.  It happened to be on today when I got home,  and when I turned to the channel, this scene was playing.  I love this scene.  There are so many things I love about this scene.  On so many levels.

I am a Kate Hudson fan, and always have been.  She sends a very positive message to the world, and while I know TV is not real at all, she comes across as a person who would make for a good friend.

This.  Scene.  Where William yells at Penny Lane about the Real World, and the confusion all the rules and sayings and nicknames.... I get it.  While this movie is completely fictitious, the idea of being in a false reality, as in on tour with the band, is familiar.  The rules of this "world" and all the sayings and such?  I get it.  And I get why William is mad.  He sees the potential.

I've lived in this world.  I think I still do.

For years, I participated in a sport that was more expensive than I could afford.  I was literally surrounded by people who dropped $15K a weekend, and purchased horses worth more than a new car.  I lived in that fantasy world for years.  At first, I loved it.  But deep down, I knew I didn't fit.  I tried.  I tried hard to fit.  And there were times, moments like Penny's reaction at the end of the clip, where I swallowed the "this isn't right" and "I know I am worth more" feeling and shoved ahead, even though I knew there was a better place for me in the world.

I relied on humor a lot back then, and I'm finding myself relying, once again, on humor as I navigate my new world.  Yes, my new world.  My new job that I began this summer required a massive change of venue, and a huge shift in working overall.

All good.  All good for sure.

Except.  Once again, I feel like the end of this scene, where no matter what Penny is thrown, she will always, always, always smile through the tears, lighten the situation, and not let it get to her.  But I saw her face.  I saw her reaction.  The tears.  The brief but powerful shift of her gaze.  I recognized it.  Cause I do it.

And this new job?  Yes, it's my dream job.  And yes, I love it.  But I feel like an outsider in the "real world" of this community.  I do have a commonality with everyone, which is good, but.... the rules... the nicknames.... the sayings..... the confusion..... the inner hurt because I don't get it.  It's outside of my knowledge base.  And it makes me feel uncomfortable and bad about myself.

Here's the thing.  Everyone has said if I have questions, feel free to ask.  And I have asked questions, and people have patiently explained and clarified.  And like in the movie, everything in the end comes around, through the road blocks and confusion, there is a sense of peace as the credits roll.

Right now, though, I'm in the end of the scene.  The first few weeks of school were crazy, and it would have been no shock to anyone if I broke down at all.  What people don't know is that on the inside, I was frustrated to the point of tears.  But on the outside, I was smiling and cracking jokes.  And keeping everyone shielded from any emotion that wasn't positive.

I'm really getting tired of smiling through those tears.  Really tired.

Starfish

One of my favorite stories is that of the Starfish.  It was introduced to me during my first year teaching, and while I didn't heed the message for the first few years..... I finally, over the past two years or so, realized that while I might not be able to "save" all my students, each one that I do connect with, that I do help see their own spark...... every little bit counts.......

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A young girl was walking along a beach upon which thousands of starfish had been washed up during a terrible storm. When she came to each starfish, she would pick it up, and throw it back into the ocean. People watched her with amusement.

She had been doing this for some time when a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!”

The girl seemed crushed, suddenly deflated. But after a few moments, she bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, “Well, I made a difference to that one!”

The old man looked at the girl inquisitively and thought about what she had done and said. Inspired, he joined the little girl in throwing starfish back into the sea. Soon others joined, and all the starfish were saved.

--Adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren C. Eiseley

Four Leaf Clovers

As a kid, I remember spending what felt like hours searching for the elusive four leaf clover.  On more than one occasion, I got lucky, and found one!  It was always exhilarating, after crawling around in the grass long enough to have green-stained knees, coming up with one of those little gems like you were the champion of the world.

Four leaf clovers.

Technically, a mutation of the normal, more typical, three leaf clover.  The regular one.  The way most clovers are made.

We scour the ground in search of the odd one out.  The unique.  The different.  The lucky.  Finding a three leaf clover is ordinary.  Everyone is a three leaf clover.  The four leaf clover.  That's different.  That's lucky.

Even though, technically, it's mutated.  It's deformed.  It's grossly different than the rest.

I've been thinking about this for a while.  How it connects to my body.  To my eating disorder.  To recovery.

I want that four leaf clover.  It's different.

Yet.

I hate this body in which I reside for that same reason.

Cause it's different.

I want to be normal.  I want to be like that three leaf clover.  Fitting in with everyone else.  One of the crowd.

Or do I?

If everyone is in search of that one, so-called lucky, four leaf clover...... maybe it's time to start rethinking this.  Maybe being different is like being that four leaf clover...... maybe it means some one will actually pick me, and find me to be their lucky charm.....

Maybe I need to pick me first......