There’s a scene in Peter Pan where Peter is trying desperately to stick his shadow back on with anything he can find. He manages, (after soliciting Wendy’s help,) to sew the darker part of him firmly to his feet, and victorious he stands, or flies. I feel like I’m trying just as desperately to pin parts of myself together. When one war stops, another war begins- and so is life. My good friend Derek always reminds me, “The only difference between an ordeal and adventure is attitude.” When he asked me if I wanted to help stain his Uncle’s house? I said, “hell yes.”
The neighborhood looked familiar, and I mentioned I recognized it from one of the many grad parties I crashed, (just for those little roll-up sandwiches and cake,) my senior year. We started working on the inside of the house, (note: I’m crazy good with a stain-sprayer,) and then the outside, and soon a familiar face caught my eye. An old friend from high school, (who is newly graduated from college- Congrats!) stepped up to say hello. She mentioned my blog, and how she enjoyed reading it. Her fiance, (another Congrats! is due,) walked up and mentioned it also. I was filled with pride- not only because a connection had been maintained, but someone cared enough to share- and that meant a heck of a lot. I finished up staining the fence, (and got a nice, deep, burn in the meantime,) and on the drive home- I was mostly silent in my sunglasses. The old me- (the non-adventurous, brooding, side,) would never have stained the fence. She never would have understood that you can do manual labor in Ann Taylor Loft Flip-Flops, (with the black, sparkly straps.)
I have two freelance meetings tomorrow, (one for writing and one for marketing.) There’s something about speaking and sharing my mind with people that I find absolutely rewarding. I feel best, when I am using the part of me that was entirely lost in my old job- buried under stacks of OSHA reports and shiny, red, things.
The pieces of me are finding each other in the strangest ways. I love the feeling of realizing something has come full-circle. There I was painting a fence with a very, good, friend, and there I was, reminded that however far away, or years between seeing each other- the care of people still humbles me. The fence I was painting, was the neighbor of the girl who’s party I had attended years ago, (a theater party? grad party? no idea.) Peter lost his shadow and found Wendy. I am in the process of losing and becoming and gaining and finding wonderful threads of who I am along the way.
