by Heather Plett | Jan 29, 2010 | journey
Sometimes just a snippet of conversation is enough to turn your day around. Sometimes you don’t even need to be part of that conversation for it to take effect.
I was having a grumpy, no-good, very bad day. There was really nothing significantly wrong – it was just one of those days when the gremlins were winning. You know the ones… “you’re not talented enough, you shouldn’t bother trying, you’re wasting too much time, you’re not focused enough, nobody will listen to you, you might as well forget about the proposal you sent in yesterday – it’ll never happen.”
I was walking through the skywalk at lunch time, heading for the far-away food court where I could feel sorry for myself and eat unhealthy food without any colleagues finding me. Didn’t I deserve to eat fast food crap, after all? Hadn’t I earned the right for a little pity party with extra calories?
“He lit himself on fire when he was 2 years old.” That was the first snippet I caught from the woman on the cell phone power-walking past me. It was enough for me to quicken my pace to keep up with her.
“He had burns all over his body, one of his hands fell off and all of the fingers on the other hand fell off.”
“With only one thumb, he learned to tie his shoes at 12 years old and he said that changed his future.”
“Now he’s a famous drummer. If he can do that, there is NOTHING that I can’t do.”
That was all I heard, but that was enough to shift something inside of me. What the heck was I doing, moping around with this “poor me, I’m a failure” attitude?
I ate my lunch, but it was curry instead of mac-crap. When I got back to my desk, I googled “drummer with no hands”. Sure enough, the story was true.
And if he can live without excuses, why can’t I?
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQBEB4fqOnI&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1]
by Heather Plett | Jan 28, 2010 | art, Beauty, Creativity, journey, women
How does one prepare for the day when a surgeon will cut off a piece of what makes one a woman?
I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies lately. Christine intrigued me with her choice of “embody” as her word for the year. And then Leah invited us to focus on the body as our creative muse this month. So since the beginning of the month I’ve been contemplating how I wanted to incorporate “body” into my creativity. I was full of ideas and just needed the time to play with them.
Then the envelope came in the mail. The envelope that held the letter that says in simple Times New Roman font, as though it were no more important than my daughter’s next soccer practice, that my breast reduction surgery has been booked for March. Gulp. Suddenly all creative ideas were blocked and all I could think of was “I’m going to lose a piece of what makes me a woman.”
Don’t get me wrong – I really want this surgery. I chose it. I’m so tired of the aching back, the carvings in my shoulders, the sore ribs from impossible under-wires, the impossibility of finding double H bras for less than my mortgage payment, the shirts that never fit, the near earthquake that’s caused when I try to jog – all of it. I want it to be over.
But that doesn’t mean it’s not complicated. It took me a long, long time to come to this decision, and I won’t back down now, but there are so many mixed emotions that play tricks with one’s mind. All of those memories of the babies I’ve nursed, the pleasure I’ve shared with my husband, the aching fullness of unused milk when the baby who was meant to nurse has left this earth – they’re all wrapped up in my identity, my shape as a woman.
And then there is the message I’m sending to my daughters. Is it okay for me to have plastic surgery, when I want to encourage them to value their bodies and not let media images dictate how they view what they see in the mirror? I would be lying if I didn’t admit to myself that at least part of the reason for this decision is about my own complicated body image.
Tonight I finally had time to disappear into my studio for awhile to play with paint, ideas, memories, heartache… and breasts.
I started with a few of those images that surround us – the perfect bodies with the perfect breasts. No, those aren’t the only reasons for this choice, but I have to at least acknowledge them and let them be a part of the picture. And the truth is, not even those women in the magazine ads are completely content when they look in the mirror.
As I prepare for this journey, I will try to acknowledge the hope and the hurt, the beauty and the ugly, the truth and the lies I tell myself. I know that I will be changed in more ways than one.
P.S. I had thought I’d be a little more private about this journey, but for some reason, I feel compelled to share it here. I know that you, my kind readers, will hold these words gently in your hearts as you have so often done when I’ve been vulnerable. If you’re interested, I first wrote about it here, when I went for my original consultation with the surgeon.
by Heather Plett | Jan 7, 2010 | journey, travel
Today I am posting this picture simply because it made me smile yesterday when I came across it in one of our work publications.
It makes me smile and it helps me to remember that I’ve lived a good life. I have been privileged to walk on foreign soil many times. And I will do it again and again. This was taken almost exactly 5 years ago in Kenya, and yes, that’s me with a little less hair, a little less weight, and a fly on my cheek. And a huge grin on my face because I was doing what I love most in the world – going on a journey. And meeting fascinating people. And letting the world change me.
This is what I wrote on my very first post on this blog, when I was preparing for my first trip to Africa:
I won’t expect that my English words are somehow endued with greater wisdom than theirs. I will listen and let them teach me. I will open my heart to the hope and the hurt. I will tread lightly on their soil and let the colours wash over me. I will allow the journey to stretch me and I will come back larger than before.
I believe I did what I set out to do – allowed the journey to stretch me. And I’ve done that on every journey since.
I’m looking forward to seeing what journeys will stretch me this year.
by Heather Plett | Jan 1, 2010 | business travel, journey
It was on my last flight that my word for the year came to me. I’d just spent a week in a rental car, exploring various parts of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick in between meetings with staff, volunteers, and supporters and now I was on my way home. After finishing the book I was reading, I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. As I began to drift to sleep, listening to the cacophony of sound in the plane, this thought punctuated my inner monologue like a flash of fireworks… OH HOW I LOVE THE JOURNEY! I sat there feeling so blissfully content, so perfectly calm and relaxed, and I knew that this moment was about as good as it gets for me.
I love the journey. I really, really do. Planes, trains, automobiles, bicycles, boats, or even my own two feet – it doesn’t matter – I just love the whole process. It doesn’t matter if I’m going on a grand adventure to Africa or just driving to my favourite bookstore – I am almost always content when I am in motion, going somewhere, on a journey. With or without companions.
And that, my dear friends, is my word for the year. Journey. This year I’m not going to try to conquer any montains, face fear with bravado, or set grand goals for myself. There’s a time and a place for all of that, but right now, for me, it’s time to savour the journey.
It doesn’t mean that I’m going to travel more (though that would be nice), or that I’m going to uproot myself or my family, it just means that I’m going to remember to savour whatever journey I’m on.
Here are some of my thoughts on what it means to focus on the journey:
1. I’m going to try to be in the moment more.
2. I’m going to learn to pack light and not weigh myself down with too much baggage.
3. I’m going to take time for conversation with interesting strangers, just like I did on that long train ride to Cleveland.
4. I’m going to let myself be inspired by the beauty that’s right here in front of me.
5. I’m going to forgive myself for not accomplishing grand goals.
6. I might even manage to forget about the destination now and then and just focus on the process.
7. I’m going to be open to adventure around the bend in the road.
8. I’m going to stop and stare at the wonders of the world.
9. I’m going to take lots of pictures and tell lots of stories.
10. Mostly, I’m going to savour more. Really savour – like that long slow sip of chai latte that’s got just the right mix of spicy and sweet.
Here’s my dream board for the year.
And here’s the painting I was working on this morning – about one of my favourite kinds of journeys, along the misty beach early in the morning as the seagulls are waking up.
And, just for fun, here’s how I’ll be starting the journey – with brown hair!
