Pages

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Be as tall as the trees

When everyone seems to be in a transitional phase in their life, there seems to be fear. Fear of failure, fear of not being good enough... We aren't so much afraid of change, as we are afraid of ourselves. I know its a little cheesy and sort of obvious, but the best way to conquer change is by being the best you you can be. I think about all the wonderful people in my life, and how they are all so different and beautiful... I just hope that we can be brave enough to be ourselves and realize how wonderful that is!

2 comments:

joyful girl said...

i totally agree. fear of change is fear of leaving something known and therefore "comfortable" for the black hole of the unknown. but it's actually the silliest fear because we, as humans, are constantly changing, and it's not only natural but necessary in life. i think Ani Difranco put it best:
"buildings and bridges are made to bend in the wind. to withstand the world, that's what it takes. we are made to bleed, and scab and heal and bleed again, and turn every scar into a joke."
so bend girl, and don't be afraid to bleed - be the glorious you that you are, and know that one day looking back, it'll all seem delightfully funny.

oh - and if you do decide to go ginger again, i'm all for it - as long as you are "painting just to see the colors" and maybe to feel more bold, but know it doesn't change the heart of the cupcake underneath. xo

Lydia said...

I read the play "The Four of Us" by Itamar Moses yesterday. He's my new favorite playwright, by the by. It's all about this very subject!! Taking risks v. being safe.

It also has an awesome quote that I have to share with you. I laughed out loud reading it!

Benjamin: ...Okay, you've taken fiction-writing seminars at school, right?

David: Yeah. A few.

Benjamin: Is it like ninety-nine percent girls there too?

David: That is one of the reasons I continue to take them.

Benjamin: They sit there, in their cat-eye glasses, dressed in black like they're mourning the fact that they have nothing to actually mourn, except, you know, that's great that you were bulemic when you were fifteen, but I'm not interested in reading about it. (Beat.) And then they all go to graduate school. For master's degrees in writing. And I'm just like: Why?