Archive for March 2012

Once Upon a Time

If you wander over to my “About” tab, you will discover my “Princess” syndrome.  I believe I was born with “Princess” in my spirit.  As a little girl, sometimes I wondered if the stork dropped me off at the wrong house.  It seemed to me I should be living in a castle and wearing beautiful flowing gowns.  (I had a vivid imagination as a child.) 🙂

My favorite fairytale was Cinderella.  What a magical story it is.  My favorite part is when she gets to go to the ball and is adorned with a beautiful gown for dancing the night away with Prince Charming.  Most days, I was either pretending to be a princess or pretending to be a ballerina.  Cancans with stiff tulle were popular in the 60s.  That was the closest thing I could find to a tutu in my closet.  I had a few of these cancans in different colors so had a change of costume when my imagination would take me to an acclaimed theatre dance floor and I would be the star of the featured event (which happened to be in a back bedroom with the door shut when no one was paying attention).

You might ask: why didn’t you simply take ballet lessons?  Well, I was born with a few physical issues from difficulty in childbirth that required surgery as an infant and then again at the age of six.  My loving mother limited my physical activities during those early years to avoid further injury.  So I would “sneak” and pretend to be a ballerina in my own world.  I had a grand time – pretending.

As I grew in stature, my physical limitations diminished; but the dancing princess dream eluded me throughout my lifetime – childhood, teen hood, young adulthood, and motherhood.  But guess what?  As I was approaching empty-nester hood, I finally tasted a little bit of that dream.

The year was 2008.  It had been an emotional year.  I was spellbound by a beautiful waltz on Jim Brickman’s Escape CD.  I listened to it over and over again – the piano and violin combination took me to another place where I could escape.  I imagined a story, even though the song was strictly instrumental.

There once was a beautiful maiden who wanted to be a princess.  She enjoyed her days dancing through the garden.  A young man, a prince, pursued her.  At first she was not interested until he beckoned her to dance.  Reluctantly she accepted.  They danced, and she fell in love.  They had a glorious time together until he became disenchanted and began avoiding her.  Then she pursued him, and he pushed her away.  Ultimately, he walked away leaving her alone in the garden where he found her.

Well, this was just an imagination – a self-made fairytale, minus the happily ever after – that I replayed in my head every time I listened to Winter Waltz.  I shared this story with a dance teacher who choreographed my interpretation and imagination (Reflections, Chapter 16). With his help, this princess finally had her day, center stage.

Don’t give up on your dream.  It could happen!

I once knew a girl, a princess she wanted to be,
That day finally came at about the age of fifty,
The dance was the waltz, and it is here you will see:

Debra’s Dance Exhibition

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Hope Again

It has been a mild winter in the Midwest; and now, even before the first day of spring, we will probably set a record temperature above 80 degrees.  I noticed driving to work on Monday that the beautiful dogwoods have emerged – white and pink blossoms lined the streets – soon the redbuds will do the same.  This morning I walked over to my bedroom window and gazed out as the sun was rising.  I raised the window a little more to breathe in the fresh air.  I looked through the screen and began to (you guessed it) reflect!  Many changes took place for me this past year – a move, letting go of an extra job that was draining me and yet had become a security blanket – to name a few.  Did everything unfold exactly as I had hoped?  No, not everything turned out as planned, although I am grateful for the good things.
 
The beauty of springtime reminds me of the season for rebirth.  For those things that did not come to pass, I can hope again; I can try again.  When the last leaf fell from the tree last autumn, the tree didn’t give up and die.  It held onto hope and knew that come spring a new bud would emerge and that from that bud a bloom would come forth and another season would come to pass.  (Paraphrased from “Some of My Best Friends are Trees”)
 
Later today when I arrive home, I think I’ll take a few minutes to unwind, gaze through my window again, look at the beautiful green lawn, and remember those hopes and dreams from last year and maybe the year before.  Hope can be restored.  The season of rebirth has arrived.  Just look out your window!



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