Aragorn by Thomas M Madsen

We’re writers, storytellers, artists. We’re ephemeral yet infinite. We’re weak in our doubt and strong in our creativity.

We are a collective. We are one. Our voices, each unique, sing to the heavens and create space.

Remember this. When you look at the person next to you, know that that person is a songwriter and a poet. Know that their voice is as important to the chorus as yours. Know that their thoughts are as solid as yours, and know that even though they may seem lost, they are actually just on a different journey.

Then look in the mirror, and know that the person you are looking at is a songwriter and a poet with a strong voice in the chorus. Know that your thoughts are solid, and even though you may feel lost, you are actually just on an interesting, if perhaps sometimes difficult, journey.

Know that you are the uncrowned king.

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Recently my husband said two things that really impacted me:

Stay positive. It’s how we win.

Once she embraced love, she could fill the world with her imagination.

My husband is the accidental sage. His words are said in passing but can mean so much.

I was at the grocery store today, standing in the checkout line as you do and idly looking about. I glanced over at the magazines, and of course the new Shape magazine immediately caught my eye given the large semi-naked picture of a beautiful Sharon Stone on the cover. My mind starts meandering down its normal path, “Wow, she looks really good. How old is she now? She must be pleased about that…” etc etc.

But then I looked up and I noticed that not one — not one  — person in the grocery store looked even remotely like Sharon Stone. I saw mothers looking very tired wrangling their small children; I saw co-workers laughing with each other and being silly; I saw couples doing their shopping while strolling very comfortably and happily next to each other; I saw one girl staring pensively off into the distance; I saw another mother clapping her hands and making her baby laugh.

Then I looked back at the magazine cover, and I realized — I suddenly grokked — that it was completely fake. No one looks like that, not even Sharon Stone looks like that. They may as well have put a picture of Lisa Simpson on the cover and told everyone that they are expected to look like this:

The picture of Sharon Stone was no more real than a picture of a cartoon character. But we take on these images and we judge ourselves and others on these fake cartoon images. We expect ourselves and others to look like those images, but it is unattainable, as unattainable as making yourself look like Lisa Simpson.

And in the process of chasing this fake idea of beauty, we miss the real beauty in both ourselves and others. I saw happiness, sadness, weariness, silliness, and love in the faces of the people all around me in the grocery store. And it was beautiful. Joyful in all the emotions and unutterably beautiful.

The cartoons on the magazine covers look just real enough to fool us, but the next time you feel your mind falling for the illusion, look up. Look at the people around you and realize that none of them resemble the image on the magazine cover. They are true. The magazine cover is not.

I was listening to Regina Sparks’ “Begin to Hope”. It’s one of my favorite songs. It’s about a woman who finally opens her heart, allows herself to become vulnerable, and finds love.

I have struggled with this issue my entire life. In the song, she is talking about romantic love. I’ve never had a problem opening myself to romantic love, but when it comes to friendships, I don’t let anyone in. I have a sturdy wall built of steel and brick around my heart. There’s a tiny window and a tiny door that are well guarded, and only my husband, my family and a very few friends that I’ve had since childhood are allowed through the door.

I have made no friends my entire adult life. And I’m 45 years old. I keep everyone at arm’s length. And even my childhood friends are watched closely as they walk around inside me.

It’s exhausting. And I don’t know how to dismantle the wall. I understand how the wall was built: a childhood that had intimate knowledge of pain at the hands of others. But that was an age ago. I’m a competent, intelligent, strong adult. The wall is now a hindrance to me, and yet I cannot break it down.

So I decided I would write a letter to these friends who have passed through my life and I watch longingly through the window in the wall. I just hope they are still there when I finally manage to tear it down.

Dear sweet friend,

Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for seeing me with your eyes filled with love and acceptance. Thank you for being in this world. You are a light shining your uniquely beautiful color into the darkness, lighting the way for others with disco sparkles and laughs.

I’m sorry that I can’t get near you yet. The fear is still in control. I hope one day to understand it and overcome it, but that day is not today. But my wish is to someday meet you where the air is fresh and I can breathe again, and the sun is warm and I can feel again, and you are there, as beautiful as you are now.

Until then, know that I see you, admire you and am grateful for you. You are what I aspire to be. You give me hope.

Love from Angel