Wicked

 

We were fortunate to see the original broadway production that with Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel.  It blew us away and we sang the songs as a family every since.  I didn't anticipate any performance being better than that power duo.

About 5 minutes into the opening scene of Wicked I knew that this was going to be special.  I was not prepared for how impactful the entire movie was going to be.  The combination of direction, acting, music set production, close up cinematography and performance was absolutely brilliant.  Probably the best musical production I have ever seen.  

What was special about it were the amazing musical performances. There were a few magical moments in particular that left a lasting impression.

  

1. Elphaba's first number "The Wizard and I" gave me chills and was so privately emotional it made me believe in almost a new story because of the way she brought it to life. Her desire to meet the wizard.  Her outward expression of hope contrasting her inner battle of guilt and self-doubt as whe runs out to the wheat fields with her arms thrown upwards and outwards inviting all the possibilities into her life.

2. Elphaba's unsettling and horribly humiliating yet haunting entrance and solo dance at the Ozdust.  The way she conveyed her excruciating painful, quiet solo expresssion of dance of humiliation, isolation and rejection.  I could feel the grit in her teeth as she pushed herself forward accepting the jeers from the crowd but not letting them change who she was.   She knew she had been targeted and knew the crushing crucible she was allowing herself to be exposed to, yet she knew she had to perform her personal but quiet outrage through her particular brand of solo expression.  She was a victim of abuse, but she did not accept the invitation of victim stance.  It was difficult to not be completely sucked into that moment with her, experiecing it almost first hand.

She won in the end.  A very private victory through a very public belittling. I liked how they helped Glinda find a way to work through her own conflicting pride and self-centeredness in her attempt to sit in grief with Elphaba.  This was a beautiful example of what we all go through when we have to decide how far we will go to someone's aid.  I loved the way they showed this breakthrough of growth.

This echoes a pattern set by someone else who had a very private victory over a very public belittling.  There is no comparison as He bore all of our shame, guilt, self-doubt and sin on his solitary shoulders and lowered himself beyond all to get that win.  The ultimate humiliation......the ultimate rejection......and the ultimate win we all needed.  I appreciated being reminded of such.

3. "Popular "- This was simply an amazing performance by Ariana.  The set design, the choreography and her own interpretation was so on point.  Perfectly executed.  Her dance was so all over the place but it worked because of her self assuredness and confidence in this area of expertise = Popularity.  It was Glinda at her best.....even if knowingly shallow.  It was all she knew how to give and she happily gave it.    Do we give our best gifts away with as much exuberance as Glinda did?  I know many who do.  A few I know do it with unusual flair and and a few who do it subtely......both work.

4. "Defying Gravity" - There are simply too many magical moments in this carefully crafted and executed performance.  The believable acting, the emotionality and then the majesty of the music.  How could Stephen Schwartz have known how big this number would be.  The lessons are many.....

I often feel as though the world has its own gravity on our spirituality and who we can be.  It is a very heavy force that can pull us down.  It takes the kind of powerful awakening like Elphaba has to find the courage and energy to defy it.  What a fantastic word - "Defy"  It isn't just resistance that resonates with me.... it is the willful refusal to obey that which is not righteous.  I do not believe anyone can watch this performance and not be completely overwhelmed by inspiration.  It is so moving and I loved it.  Her amazing leap over the parapet with her grand cloak waving in after her -- Ha! Pretty powerful.   We all want to make that leap in our own lives.  Elphaba gives us the invitation to follow......

There are many moments in this film that are just choice. Little looks, little feet pointed out, little details that bring it all to life. It was an amazing experience that I thoroughly enjoyed.  How wonderful it is to have talent in this world.

“Cause getting your dreams

It's strange, but it seems

A little -- well -- complicated

There's a kind of a sort of : cost

There's a couple of things get : lost

There are bridges you cross

You didn't know you crossed

Until you've crossed.”

― Stephen Schwartz, 

The Miracle of Emerson

 

One would think that it wouldn't take 6 months before a grand parent would post something about their first grand kid.  Now, others have, including his grandmother, but I haven't, until now.

It's been difficult because I wasn't prepared for what he and his arrival would mean.  I wasn't ready for the profound impact he immediately had on my heart.  

He came in with some struggles including two tiny pefect little feet that were perfectly turned in.... yes, some dorkface somehow got approval to call it "Club Feet" of all horrid names, but in Emerson's case, there were never a cuter pair than his.  He already made something the world would see as someting disfigured into something beautiful.   That my friends.... was only the beginning.

He stayed in the ICU for a few days for other reasons than coming early but he cleared all those early hurdles like a champ.

Yes, he was one more unit, one more body in the a world of billions, and yes, he followed the normal path everyone takes, but for some reason so much about Emerson has not been normal.....to me.

I like to watch things and people..... I watch Emerson and I watch people that surrounded him, including me.  That was one of the first miracles I watched.  If there was a single glimmer that he might show up, or if there was a picture taken of him, or a hint that there might an Emerson sighting or that we could go see him never ever have I seen people literally drop what they were doing instantly to move in his direction......and with enormouse energy and haste!  Never have I seen more squealing of his grandmother or his youngest aunt.  I have never uttered such ridiculous baby talk in my life. 

Did I expect to be in awe, and to be excited to hold him and do all the hundreds of things that every grandparent does?  Yes!  for sure.  Did I know we would totally have to invest in every single baby toy, crib, car seat that he had at his house to be at ours?  I forgot about that one, but ok.... Did I know that we would be spending some serious babysitting time with him?  Yes! For sure. 

What I did not expect was the overflowing love that so powerfully pours into my soul when he is present.  The level of anticipation, excitement and need that we all seem to require of him is completely ridiculous and extreme......and I don't ever want that very special feeling to ever go away.

He seems to be paying attention to all of us.  He seems to be watching us as well.  He is taking everything in....absorbing and reflecting it appears.  Then the occasional crazy smiles that send us to the stratosphere.

I cannot believe how important and meaningful it has been to watch Chelta and Alexa in particular react and act with him.  It is an undescribable joy that I hope to understand.  I feel my own sense of it, but it seems different with them. It's an unending craving that is special to witness.  The spark that Emerson creates within us is so special and can only be described as divine.  There is something about him saving us that I can put my finger on, but I know there is some truth to that.  He somehow heals....

What is the most curious mystery to me is that I am sure I felt all these things when we had our own babies but something is markedly different.  I can't tell if its because we aren't around him 24/7, which makes a lot of sense.  Or if it's because what everyone says about being able to "send them back to their parents" after each visit.  Maybe.....  at the end of the day, I simply don't care.  This feeling of not being able to get enough of him is miraculous.  His little spirit has an immense draw on others.  He draws people to him.  He is like a gatherer.  He is like glue that brings us all together. His innocence changes our tone, what we watch on TV, how we talk and he sets a calming spirit.   He casts magic that we didn't know we needed.

I am astounded at how he influences our behavior, thoughts and feelings.  It is impossible to be around him and not want to be a better person.  I know, every grandparent is the same.  Thank God then for grandchildren if what I am experiencing is a 10th part of what everyone else does.  

Alexa and Chelta - never stop squealing or racing to get to him first, it completely completes my day.

Emerson, if only one day we could somehow tell you what you have meant to us there will be lots of tears and very few words.....Thank you for waiting to come now.  You are a miracle that we needed.

My Precious

 

Is it wrong to hope that at the end of things, that there might be new beginnings?  I don't know, but even if there aren't, maybe it is ok if there is simply just an end...... to some things.   

The End, full stop, enough, zero, no mas!....  It would have to mean that there is a place, where there might be a large iron door that could be opened and all the emotions of pain, hurt and suffering could be shoved in, and slowly but surely, we would swing that heavy door shut.

Would that be enough?  Would that do the trick?  What would we do with ourselves if we couldn't nurse the delicious taste of dissatisfaction in our soul any longer?  If we couldn't stare at the statue of justification that we had sculpted so meticulously?  What would replace the familiar bitter taste of beautiful bile that we so carefully marinated and now seems so sweet over time?  What if we didn't have that little horrible secret place where we could lick our wounds and hear our addicted selves say......."My precious" over and over again as we consider our stockpile of hurt?

Could we recognize what was left?  Would we like that new person in the mirror?  How unfamiliar would they seem?  What do we replace all that angst with? 

What if we realized that what we thought the end was, was not to be, in the end after all?  What would that realization feel like? I can already imagine the fear and angst that would create in the pit of my stomach?  Why wasn't it enough to empty it all and shut the door?  

How often do we find ourselves dangling our ring of power over the fires of Mt Doom, unable to ultimately let go?  Ah!  I never thought that would mean something so real to me.  Tolkien understood me better than I thought.

Ending can be as hard as beginning something new.  Ending always incurs some loss...  The idea of leaving something behind isn't always blissful.  Often, it is necessary.  We aren't supposed to like it.  It is more about willingness than ableness, although many say that they just can't forget.... they can forgive, but not forget.  In other words, they can't drop their ring either...Easy to say, hard to do.

May we become more accepting of the person that is left after we close that door.  Let's welcome them back with patience and care and smile at them in the mirror once again.

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us"

I Didn't Know

 

You must have been struggling by yourself, feeling so lonely.  You couldn't even tell anyone that you were having a hard time.  I didn't know you were in pain.  

I'm sorry I didn't notice it.

I will forever regret that

6 Weeks

 

It was 6 weeks and some change.  6 amazing weeks.  A small moment in the grand scheme of things for sure, but so wonderfully big regardless.  It was late summer, so that was fitting.... An ending of a season and an introduction to another.   Chelta was in Atlanta for 6 weeks of flight attendant school, so it was just the two us. 

Never had I spent 6 entire weeks alone with any of the kids.  So, this was special.  I didn't have a plan other than I knew that I would try my hardest to be at her beckon call as much as I possibly could. If there were any time in her life that I was not going to miss it was during these 6 weeks.  

It was definitely not a normal summer.  I never asked her but she might have said it was her worst summer ever. Had I gone through what she did, it would have been the worst for sure.  For me, it was a surreal and ambiguous time. We played it by ear one day at a time.  I never knew what each day would yield.  What I did know was that Alexa was forced into deep introspection of her life.  Achingly deep.  I wouldn't say she was lost, but maybe a bit 'untethered' for a little while.  Winnie the Pooh's probably said it best:

“I'm not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost.”― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

However lost she might have been, she never forgot who she was.  She has made a career out of that.  Maybe it was more like finding her footing in some shifting sand that caused her to tread a bit more carefully.   Her world got seriously rocked without warning and knocked the emotional breath out of her.  It may have even chipped a tooth or so... Yes, it was a pretty violent gale.  As the sky darkened and the heavens poured out the heavy rain upon her you never would have thought that Love was at the heart of that thunderstorm.

"When love beckons to you, follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to

him,

Though the sword hidden among his

pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in

him,

Though his voice may shatter your

dreams as the north wind lays waste the

garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he

crucify you. Even as he is for your

growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and

caresses your tenderest branches that

quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and

shake them in their clinging to the earth."

Gibran, The Prophet

Yes.... Alexa was shaken to her roots and she didn't know what to cling to.  So, what could I do?..... Well, not a lot.  So I started watching her carefully.  I tried seeing inside her trying to see where she was.  I tried not to say very much and I began to witness the remarkable way she started to handle the aftermath of that storm. No raincoat, no umbrella, no shelter......Just sheer will and some help from Heaven.

I watched her rise up, move forward step-by-step, solid, but slow.  She needed to chart her own path towards better weather, a new beginning, renewal of spirit and soul.  I am not sure what point on the horizon she picked, but she found something, and with sheer force of will, managed to forge a new route out of that troubled place.  

It was one of the only times in my life that I could maybe take care of her for a bit.  She has always been independent, but she let me in and we had some wonderful moments of interdependence.  And when I say take care of her, I mean I would check in with her and see how she was doing.  She didn't need much more than that, but it seemed like that was the lifeline we both needed to know each other was ok.

I didn't always know what to do or say so sometimes taking care of her meant not talking, just listening to music or sitting watching something on TV or just being.  She helped me learn the meaning of one of our favorite songs:  

"You say it best, when you say nothing at all"

I remember diving more deeply into the meaning of the term "Sitting with someone in grief."  There isn't a perfect google search or handbook answer for that, but it is best learned through doing it.  I haven't always known how to do that.  I felt like figuring out how to do that might be the best balm of healing I could offer.

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."

I will always remember the healing power of the many indoor soccer games she had multiple times a week, always at night.  Nothing delighted me more than to get that one text of the day -- "I have a game tonight if you want to come."  She will never know of the many tears that came to my eyes when I got those.  They were like little life lines being thrown out for me to grab onto something solid.  I loved driving down to Provo to watch her play. 

I witnessed an increased toughness in her attitude and play on the pitch.  She took more chances, anticipated what the other players were doing, and played super smart soccer.  She was more aggressive and didn't shy away from contact.  I won't know what was going on inside of her head, But I liked it!  It was really fun to watch her lift herself up and out of the rain and find success where she could.  It was so important to find things that were in her control, things that felt familiar.  She found a new place to live, made new friends, reached out to old ones and started serving others.  I couldn't be more impressed with the way she shaped each day, carefully and simply.  I am sure there were very emotional draining moments that I never saw that she experienced in quiet behind closed doors.  Regardless, they never got the best of her.  Each passing day she got stronger.  We would get snacks and laugh about little things. it was beautiful...... to me.

It was if each week represented a a milestone of growth.  Every week was like a new pillar of strength that she set in the ground.  By the end she had 6 of them anchored on each side of the new road she was paving.  They were like mighty mile markers to chart her progression from old to new.....from past to promise...... from fear to hope.  That is what I will remember about those 6 weeks.  The little spaces where we could be together, in unity, taking each day at a time watching those pillars rise high.

“You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.”— Christopher Robin

Near the end, the best moments were when she laughed.  Just like in the photo above.  That is Alexa right there.... full of light, full of quiet determination, full of wanting to laugh each day.   I wonder what those 6 weeks will end up meaning to her.  They were everything to me.  It was fleeting as time often is... playing it normal tricks on us, making some moments last forever and then in the next second everything flashing by like a speeding train. 

I have thought about those 6 weeks often this past year.  It was like a perfect chapter in her book of life that I got to watch her write.  How lucky was I?  As the last week neared the end I had this thought come to me quickly... "This would never happen again".  I would never have 6 weeks like this again.  I felt this terrible pang of knowing and already felt the saudade rise in my chest.  It hurt and I smiled at the same time.  Difficult to explain, but yet Winnie once again seems to understand so well:

“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

—Winnie the Pooh

I would never wish what caused those 6 weeks on anyone.  No, that would be cruel.  But, if that particular thunderstorm comes your way, and you find yourself with the prospect of a speck of time like I did, I hope you have an amazing ride too...and if you do, please let me know so that we can share some thoughts that no one else will ever understand.  I would love to acknowledge your wonder as you do mine..... 

Alexa..... You won you know....You did it!  You did this thing called life perfectly.  You are amazing to me.  If I could frame those texts during those 6 weeks I would.  Just know they are hanging in my hall of fame.  I will never forget our 6 weeks.

 “The most important thing is, even when we’re apart, I’ll always be with you.” — Winnie the Pooh

Screaming on Father's Day

Edward Munch's painting is as iconic as the Mona Lisa except it is its opposite.  Many say it is a visualization of humanity's angst and describes an intense feeling of apprehension, anxiety, or inner turmoil.

The scream descended upon me today, ironically of all day's.... Father's Day.  It came heavy and with much weight.  Much like Munch's work, it distorted my reality.  It came with little warning and it came at night.  By the end of it, I had my head in my hands, deeply unsettled, deeply disturbed and feeling absolutely horrible about myself.  

I might form a small hope of possible recovery if I had only committed a few wrongs, but what do I do when a lifetime of calculated manipulation is tagged to my soul?  When the anger pointed at me is so severe that there is no light left to shine on anything of worth, only my betrayal, manipulation, deceit and resentment. There must be some truth, so I dig....

What kind of person could be the cause of such negative words?  I can only rewind the tape a thousand times and see all the mistakes made.  As the hours of reflection drone on endlessly, there are a ton of them, in fact, I see them racking up with each day I review....I see only failures.... failures of such magnitude that there is no sense of hope of reconciliation.  The hurt I caused is unforgivable for sure. How could there be any room for a change of heart?  Not after what I have done.  It would be better to be buried beneath a mountain, and even that wouldn't be enough.  No, I don't deserve that.... what I deserve is violence.  Yes! that is the rightful punishment for my sins.  Not with hands, no, that wouldn't cause enough pain......Elbows are much more effective tools I am told. 

Doesn't violence normally set the world right again? 

History has shown it to be so.  Those who profess peace, harmony and acceptance with all often are disguised as ravenous wolves underneath that false facade.  They are justified in their violence because there is only their truth, their way.  If challenged, there is no dialogue, just removal.  Why? Because hurt goes only one way, not two.  But, this is different....What if one of the parties has broken total trust?  What if the manipulation was intentional, diabolical and full of resentment over a lifetime?  Wouldn't that justify violence?  It must.

I can only sit with the screaming, waiting for the pound of flesh to bring relief.....to both of us.

I will take it, elbow after elbow until there is no face left... disfigured, unrecognizable.  I just hope I will be able to muster a smile knowing that at least one of us will be reconciled..... I just wonder which one of us it will be.

PS: I should apologize for being so dramatic and pathetic, but that would be manipulative so I won't.