Fall weekend happenings

I just returned from shopping in my small Okie town. We are now officially on the map since we have an Old Navy, Pier 1, Target and a plethora of other fine shopping establishments in our small town. 20 years ago, this town was a corn field. Now Starbucks has taken up permanent residence so civilization is here to stay.

I'm elated, though, at more than having twenty stores within a five mile radius of my home. Something amazing has happened, I am now a full 2 sizes smaller than I was this time last year. It was not necessarily intentional but a fair amount of energy has gone into wondering how I, someone who has never had a weight problem, had ballooned up to a double digit size. Once last year, I walked past a mirror and shrieked. I thought I had seen my mother through a window, but it was just me in the mirror. That's when I knew something had to change.

My mother is a beautiful woman, but who grows up saying, "I want to look JUST LIKE my mom??" Not me. I still see myself as a skinny, smart, dweeby kid. The last two adjectives still fit, the first one...not so much.

I started thinking what could have caused this weight loss (since I'm always looking for a way to make a buck, who knows?) but I couldn't come up with much. I have traded in my boxing gloves for walking shoes and instead of kickboxing twice a week on lunch hours, I walk every morning at least one mile. This is not a nature walk but a survival skill....I detest everything there is about mornings, so having an objective upon awakening is a good thing. After stumbling around in a coma, starting the tea or coffee brewing, I hit my residential street in somewhat of a foul mood. By the time I return from walking, though, I'm a civil human being and somewhat able to face the world (more or less).

The other thing, is a strict schedule that I've imposed upon myself. Like an athlete that is stretching towards the next level, I have been attempting to stretch outside of my comfort zone in my own business, which means sticking to a more rigorous schedule. I've been working with a business coach and when asked to adhere to the schedule I originally though, "no problem." I'd been doing this work for 13 years and felt like I was working. But we are all masters of deception and I am the Queen of Self Deception and found that I was THINKING about working far more than I was actually working (a common problem in Self Employment Land) This weekend marks a halfway mark through this exerices (120 days) and I am rewarding myself by taking a few days off, attending a writer's conference and most of all, spending time with my kids on fall break.

I like the metaphor of the corporate athlete a lot and have been inspired for some time by the book "The power of full Engagement" by Tony Schwarz. A lot of what is shared in that book has been somewhat revolutionary for me. I am learning the power of nurturing what fills me (especially since I'm a hard core introvert in a line of work that is people-rich -- and not always people-friendly). Writing, yoga, walking, taking time is as important or more so for those of us who may push hard for big goals. I think it's far too easy to forget that and feel that we just must redouble efforts and push harder. That, I have found, is a sure fire map to Burnout, USA and I'd prefer not to visit there much.

So, the realization that I'm enjoying a splendid fall weekend with the things and people that I love -- and have dropped two dress sizes -- is definately a time to celebrate.

Pass the chocolate cake.

Elizabethtown

http://www.elizabethtown.com/home.html

"Elizabethtown" hits so many points that it almost feels like two movies, hinged together.

The movie transports me back to the ruckus in my great grandmother's kitchen with goofy cousins and old men and the yearning to be a part of this chaos, this family and know that you are not and that you may never be.

The movie transports me to times when success was all that mattered and failure was non-negotiable.

The movie transports me to times when the long journey ahead offered no company, no calm, nothing but grief and the "deep melancholy of what all this means". (quote from film).

To say I liked this movie is to say I like chocolate -- which is true but not fully. I LOVED this movie..I loved the simplicity of it, the music and the way it dealt with the themes of death, failure and renewal in straightfoward ways.

What I loved most is that it resists temptation to spiral down into maudalin themes of "home folk" and the such. It doesn't offer a lot of answers because, I believe, the answers lie in the journey which we each take and with which we each see differently. "We all have different versions of him" was one of the many great one-liners that permeate the film.

I can't wait to get the soundtrack and relive it.

What does a Marching band have to say about leadership..?

After a long day of traveling, teaching I drove to Arlington, TX to see my son and his High School Marching Band ("The Pride of Owasso"!) compete in the Regional Finals. Somewhere between when I graduated from High School and my kids entering High School, marching bands have transformed themselves from two-bit half-time shows into first class entertainment and high art. The pudgy baton twirler has been given up for the acrobatic flag corp, marching has been morphed into athleticism and John Phillip Sousa has been discard and movie scores have been added. I never imagined I'd hear "Fly Like an Eagle" on a football field. I cannot imagine what that means for those of us who rocked out to Foreigner, Tim Nugent and Meatloaf. When one's youthful music becomes fodder for the high school marching band, I think it means only one thing -- you be old.

It was the perfect transition from focused teaching to coming home to a new week. My mind was treated to visuals that are unmatched. And it got me thinking..

What happens on the marching field between the confusion of transition to the neat form lines and that of a perfect one-two step? What happens between the movements from bold brass to soft flutes? What happens between the note and the silence?

What does this art form teach me about my world? So many things. For one, art is so needful in a rough and tumble world. It soothes, it jolts, it focuses, it comforts. It makes life rich and soulful. The more techy we become, the more I believe art wraps us in meaning and in truth.

Next, it teaches me that life is one of contrasts and textures. Brass played long and hard is simply tedious. Add the cadence of percussion, the visual of a waving flag, the form becomes a message, a phrase lived, a story rich with meaning.

It also teaches me that life is richer simply because of these contrasts. The line on the field may dissolve into confusion, then resolve itself into neat formations that could not be formed if the disruption of the band had not thrown itself into chaos. Confusion before clarity.

And it teaches me that silence is not to be feared. It is the pause, the moment before harmony, the moment before movement.
Regional Finals, Arlington, TX