A response to a writing challenge: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/lush/

During the transitional moments of our days, the moments where our thoughts stray or drift away from the mundane routine, we ponder and reflect on days past where it was simpler, easier, perhaps even better. We daydream and fantasize and glorify times and relationships that have drifted away.

It was better then, we say, during our Lush Life. The Magic of Christmas was always present. The rush of shopping was fun and done in lavishly decorated shops with the help of knowledgeable sales clerks. The gatherings with family and friends were rosy and full of great conversation. Our social outings were spontaneous and exciting. The good old days hold a golden glow in our minds.

Was it ever that way? Was it ever that good? When we only had 5 TV Channels and a record player — or AM/FM Radio — to entertain us, was life better? When our phone wasn’t a life-line to the world, did we have enough information? When we weren’t conditioned to post and check Facebook, Twitter, Messaging, Instagram and SnapChat every few minutes, did we have true friends?

When every news story didn’t begin with Trump said/Trump did/Trump tweeted, was our quality of life sweeter?

When we played outdoors more on swing-sets with neighborhood friends, disappearing after school and only returning for meals, did we live more fully? When the only way we could find our friends was to speak to them on a phone or face to face, were relationships easier to manage? Were we more connected? Did we nurture our friendships with greater respect and care?

Were we kinder to each other when we didn’t have texts, messaging or emails to  make us anonymous and make meanness easier?

Before social media made us unsocial and disconnected us with the people who matter most, condensing conversations and thoughts to a 140 character tweet, was that the Lush Life?

#IMissIt

via Daily Prompt: Lush

A friend of mine has an annual tradition of selecting a Word each January 1 as the theme of her “new year.” Now, I don’t believe in resolutions. I believe in setting intentions and working to realize goals. But, she inspired me — as she often does. And this year, I felt moved to do the same.

I mulled over it for several days. I mean, this was the word for my year. And once selected, it had to have staying power. A couple ideas popped into my mind. But there was one Word that showed up more than others.

Hope.

So, I set my word. And as part of my 2017 Theme, I wore something white (or winter white since I consider cream to be white) every day in January. Just my way of wiping the slate clean and shining in what I consider to be the darkest month of the year.

For the first week or so, my spirits were high. After all, I had Hope. In every situation, I was able to find a hopeful element, something to hold onto. Now, don’t mistake this as my saying I had it all together, nothing went wacky or every aspect of my life was perfect blah blah blah. But, I was able to cultivate Hope in something and nurture it deep inside myself.

But, tossing out a word like Hope to the universe is like daring it to thwart you. It’s like asking for Patience and realizing the only way you develop Patience is by managing a lot of crap and negative stuff to find your strength and calm amidst it all. Hope is like that. Pretty soon I realized this might be trickier than I originally thought. Stuff started flying my way and I began to feel ill-equipped to handle it. My Hope started to waver.

But I held on because I recognized that Hope is like that. It attracts gloom and despair.  Then, Hope sheds light on those shadows in the corner … the doubts, fears, struggles and losses you’d prefer to ignore because they cause discomfort. But you know what I’ve discovered during the past 39 days? Hope shines brightest in the darkness.

A little candle flame cannot be seen in the light of day. Its strength reveals itself in the blackest hours of the night or in those times you are in the corner struggling with your personal shadows. The light of Hope shines the most brilliant on sad days, amidst lonely rainy moments where you feel abandoned, scared, uncertain, weary or alone and during the times you experience frustration, loss, fear, self-doubt and anxiety.

It’s easy to hold on to Hope when everything is going your way. But when it doesn’t … when you read about injustice in a local jail, when the Senate approves a nomination you dread, when a friend suffers from a terrible illness or worries about the future of their family in today’s precarious international environment, when you see unkindness all around you … or in those personal moments of gloom when you struggle with day-to-day “stuff,” when you feel rejected, restless and unfocused or when you just can’t seem to find your joy, that’s when the flame of Hope shines brightest. Hope gives you the strength to believe in something beyond your own self.

Hope does not promise me a rose garden or guarantee that there won’t be shadows along my path this year. It doesn’t say I will have an easy go of it in 2017. It doesn’t mean my little flame of Hope won’t struggle on windy, rainy, cold or difficult days. But, it provides me a focal point that helps me cultivate strength to deal with challenging, difficult people and times, as well as the emotions they stir in me. Hope sparks and rises in the darkness.

Of course, there are still those moments when I question everything. When my own personal shadows threaten to rise up and drown my little light. I’m shaken to my core and wonder what difference it makes if I throw in the towel and allow despair and doubt to take me down the river.After all, what can my little light do anyway?

And that’s when I hear it … A still small voice whispering in my ear.

Ah, my child … but that’s the point.  That’s why we chose Hope as your word. Now … let’s get on with it.                                                                                                                                      – Jenni

Hope is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words  –

And never stops  – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird –

That kept so many warm – .

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity

It asked a crumb – of me.

– Emily Dickinson #314

Spoiler Alert: If you haven’t seen the film and hope to remain surprised, do not read further. Return (please) after you too have experienced this hit sensation … your feedback is encouraged. 

It begins with a song and dance sequence. 150 dancers braving 110 degree Hollywood Heat on a sun-drenched concrete ramp between the 105 and 110 freeways, leaping and spinning from their traffic-jammed cars in joyful ecstacy. They don carefree smiles, abandoning their vehicles for a spin with strangers without a backward glance.

That’s how my morning begins … with a musical number. How about you? And in LA? Really? Bumper to bumper traffic, yes. A happy song and dance on a swelteringly hot day in a traffic jam, um, not so much.

But … the first hook was thrown. Something just different enough to be Intriguing. One Point for La La Land.

So the film begins with a carefree “opening number.” And, they have something in common, these drivers. Dreams and Hope.

Enter our two protagonists, driving the only two unaffected cars. These two characters behave like normal, annoyed, California drivers … there’s a pulsing honk and a middle finger flipped as the harried driver Sebastian (aka Ryan Gossling) revs by the distracted driver  Mia (aka Emma Stone).

There’s the second hook, and we didn’t even see it coming. Fantasy and reality mixed artfully together to catch us off guard and draw us in. The Hollywood Hopeful and the Jazz Purist with a Dream. And they aren’t perfect heroes. They each have an edge to their personality. It’s a well-used plot in a theatrical setting, so, again I ask, why does this film have so many in its thrall?

Perphaps its the blend … Amidst the traditionally, popular classic Hollywood musical design, Damien Chazelle weaves a believable story with two genuine individuals. Note: This isn’t a commentary on acting or singing or who deserves the Oscar. It’s simply recognition that zany unrealism and two real people create a diverting film experience.

La La Land is all glittery and sparkle and fake. But Mia and Sebastian — their Hopes and Dreams and the frustrations they encounter — they are real!

Mia auditions and auditions (been there/done that/I can relate). She is thwarted, ignored, dismissed and declined. Seb dreams of opening a true jazz club. He has a specific location in mind but no cash flow — and an attitude. Being true to his art isn’t enough to pay the bills. Feeling like a failure in not only his eyes but Mia’s as well, he surrenders his Dream for a regular paycheck. He compromises. Meanwhile, Mia supports him as best she can but keeps fighting for her Dream to Act.

Many of us can relate to one or both of these “characters.” We put ourselves out there and get shown the door. We open our hearts and get rejected. We adjust our dreams and settle instead of continuing to fight toward our true aspirations. We reach for the stars, dancing among them for a time, but must descend back to earth when the sun rises.

In an elegant effort to be true to her self, Mia writes and stages her own play. It’s her dream moment and despite seemingly endless touring commitments, Seb promises to be there for her. Oh, we all know what’s bound to happen. We see it coming. Seb gets roped into (or … allows himself to be ropped into??) a photo shoot and is unable to reach the theatre on time. He misses her performance. He breaks Mia’s heart. She’s done. Done with La La Land and him. She leaves and goes home.

Seb stays. I mean for all intents and purposes, he made it. He got the “golden apple,” his name on the record and a place on tour before thousands of fans. But the sacrifice of his Dream, and the fact that he lost his love along the way, gives it a bitter taste. So when the call comes in with an opportunity for Mia, he gets excited! He sets their differences aside and brings her back. And, we’re all drawn in for Mia’s final audition.

Sebastian and Mia love each other. That much is clear. But, this is La La Land where idealized images, music and real life are blended together. We’ve seen that from the beginning. And even with a score underlying it, real life doesn’t always live up to the drama in the movies.

The ending of La La Land is much disputed. Some like it. Some get it. Some hate it. But as Mia says in her audition song, life is messy. When you jump in the Seine, sometimes you catch a cold. But, despite that, the question you have to ask yourself is … would you do it again?

La La Land delivers lovely imagery is grounded in truth. That’s the final hook. See, the story is timeless … it’s about giving and taking, winning and losing, sacrificing and growing. It’s about Dreaming, Hoping and Loving. And, in the end, sometimes Love isn’t strong enough. Sometimes the happily ever after you get isn’t the one you expect. But when the film ends, both seem happy with their lives. Mia became a film actress with a handsome husband and beautiful daughter while Seb opened that pure jazz bistro.

La La Land gives us Hope for our Dreams and Escape from the Dramas of the day and the world. It’s clever and pretty. But in the end, life in La La Land is not all glitter and sparkle. The film reminds us that we may have to adjust and make sacrifices. We might lose the people we love along the way. We are all fools but Life is messy.

And that closing dream song and dance sequence which highlights the Might Have Been Moment — the one people debate as they exit the theatre — that’s the final Hook.

“Here’s to the ones who dream. Foolish as they may seem. Here’s the hearts that ache. Here’s to the mess we make.”

I get Sentimental and Reflective during the Holidays. It starts at Thankgiving, continuing thru Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I have Traditions during these “Holiday Seasons” that bring me Joy and Tears. There’s this Stephen Curtis Chapman Christmas song that touches me so deeply it makes me weep. And amidst all my crazy outings and web site searches for just the right present for everyone on my list, I think about Christmases past as well as friends and family members near and far — and those special people who’ve departed this earth for a new adventure.

For me, Christmas isn’t the brightly wrapped packages, though I do enjoy them. It’s about a greater Gift than something found under a Tree.  It’s about Love and Connecting to those dear to me. I think about the Swiss Cheese my Uncle David used to bring and the great hugs he gave, the Slippers my Gram made me, the smell of my Grandfather’s pipe and that personal Coconut Cream pie my Grandmother made. I think about the Ray Conniff Singers and sneaking downstairs to listen to the GrownUps play Tripoly. And I think about waiting on the stairs to come down and see what Santa brought.

Every Christmas for the past 17 years I’ve visited Santa at the Somerset Collection with at least one of my kids. Afterward, I write an email note and send it with that year’s photo. I have a dear friend — my Albion “big brother” — who tells me how much he looks forward to that letter. It’s truly the only time we Connect all year long. It’s a Special moment when I see his email pop up in my In Box … to hear how he’s doing — how is family is doing.

I have other Traditions like that … I’m sure we all do. And they aren’t about ribbons or packages. They are about the people I share Time with.

So many people come and go quickly. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never, ever the same — a quote from Flavia I discovered during my Kappa Alpha Theta years at Albion College. But that quote has a part three. See, some of those people leave deep footprints, shape us, and perhaps … though we don’t want them to … eventually choose to move on down their path.

The Gifts these people give us may come in glittery wrapping paper and become treasures of the heart. I have at least three bracelets made up of black and creme plastic beads. My son gave them to me when he was four or five. He cashed in prize tokens at GameWorks for them. Pretty sure they were made in Japan … the lettering on the beads gives me that impression.

I have other items like those bracelets … a sparkly ring my daughter bought at her school Santa’s Workshop  a now tarnished charm I added to a silver chain given to me by a friend after a play we did together, a “cruise director” Boyd’s Bear my brother and sister-in law gave me — guess that means I’m their favorite social director, letters from girls I performed with and a doll their mom made me, a play which a friend wrote and gave me, and a very out of date ski sweater given to me by my husband.

I still wear the bracelets. And the ring and necklace. Heck, I still wear that sweater — it’s super warm and looks good with leggings now that I removed the mega shoulder pads. The Cruise Director sits on my desk while the Maria doll has a place on my dresser. I read the play and the letters from time to time. Each of these items reminds me of times past and special people who’ve made a difference in my life.

Each of these items means something to me. Each of them tells a story and has value. I have gifts that come with “stories,” making them all the more relevant to me years later. They may not arrive in sparkly packages or boast ribbons and bows, but they brighten my heart and I treasure them.

When it comes to Christmas shopping, I work from lists.  I have the lists that were given to me. But, I prefer to select on my own, honestly. I like to come up with creative ways to show those dear to me how well I know them … Selecting something not specifically asked for is my way of shopping without a net! Dangerous, yes. But very rewarding when you see that look in their eye as they open something chosen just for them.

Only a few days remain before Christmas. My mind drifts to the people who’ve left Footprints on my heart. Some remain near and I enjoy them today. Some I see only rarely. Some have moved out of my life and I miss them. But … They are no less a part of me today than they were during those days we hung out together.

If you have people like that, take time to remind them that they give Meaning to your life. That they Gave Meaning once. Remind them that though you may not spend Time together anytime soon, that does negate the impact they have had on your life. And, because of their very Simple Gift of Self, you will never, ever be the same again.

All that Glitters is not wrapping paper.

Huh … now that I think of it, that IS the Meaning of Christmas …

Merry Christmas to All … God Bless Us Every One ………….. Jenni

It’s December. There is snow on the ground and flakes falling from the sky. I have a list a mile long and my shoulders are tense as I contemplate the things left to do. It’s chilly outside. My toes are more than a little cold. But more significantly, today is the day I am ringing the bells for the Salvation Army outside the Royal Oak Post Office.

This day is very special to me. I do this every December. It’s a day that reminds me that others are not so fortunate as I … it’s a day I set aside to work to give those individuals a little bit of holiday joy. It’s a day I try and offer that same cheer to people I’ve never met and will most likely never see again. As I ring the bell, I offer a bit of healing light to those who pass by me … a little bit of Christmas spirit to brighten their day.

I ring the bell constantly as I stand there. I want others to hear the call. And I smile. I have my Christmas Playlist shuffling on my iPhone with earbuds in. It’s playing just loud enough to entertain me through the constant jingle of that brass bell, occasionally adding to my rhythm. But it’s not loud enough that I can’t speak to the people who walk up those steps to mail their cards, letters and packages.

Many who enter the post office have long faces. The rush of the season gets to them like it gets to me. I swear I have an Anxiety attack for the first week or so of December every year. The pressure, shopping, traffic, decorating, baking, lists of projects, hassle and stress of selecting just the right thing for everyone on my list gets to me. And I lose focus on what is truly significant about this time of year.

People … Love … and the Redeeming Gift of Grace.

I can’t offer Grace. But, as I ring the bell, I offer a bit of myself and the love, light and healing energy that is a part of me. I bestow it like a shield around them. How do I do that? I smile. I speak gentle, hopeful, welcoming words to all — even if they don’t put loose change or dollars in the red bucket. I try to remind them that there is a merry, healing Sparkle around them when I wear my Disney Princess Santa Hat with his silver glittery snowflakes and hot pink glow.

One more thing … I say Merry Christmas to everyone who passes by me. Some utter it in return. Some nod. Some say nothing. But, I reach out … and that is my Gift.

There’s a lot of Darkness in the world … especially after the grueling election that polarized this nation in 2016. Enough of that. Now is a time of healing. I don’t care who you voted for or what your politics are. This season is about Hope and a Promise.

The Present wrapped in shiny paper is not the Gift I seek … it’s Time with the people important to me. What Glitters in my Heart is the Laughter we’ve shared, the Conversations I replay in my mind, the Touch of a Hand or a Hug, the Smile you gave me as we left each other. The Gift I long for most comes not with a bow but with Moments and Memories … in the Message that reminds me that we are important to each other no matter how far away or how limited our Moments Together might be.

The bell glitters off the sunlight as I ring it. The change falling into the Red Bucket is brighter than the decorations hung around the town. The smiles — when they come my way — give me something back. And today, I found more joy than I can say when a nice gentleman bought me a Peppermint Mocha. This gesture warmed me to my frozen toes … a reminder of selfless acts of kindness.

Yes, I still have a list and many things to do. But today I work for those who I don’t know and who will never know me.  The Bell I hold isn’t Silver or Gold. But it has value to me. And it will bring Joy to the World.

— Jenni

Though I’m a child of the 70’s and 80’s, I’m a TV-product of the 90’s. During the 90’s, I was sucked into Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and Ghost Whisperer. Not sure where the fascination with Magic, Ghosts and Demon-Slaying came from, but there you have it.

My 11-year old daughter and I have successfully completed our Netflix binge-watching of both Ghost Whisperer and Charmed. She too is fascinated by Magic and Ghosts, and the occasional demon slaying. As we watched, though, I recognized one thing these shows all have in common: Perfect Lips.

Rose McGowan (Paige on Charmed Seasons 4-8) always had perfect lips. No matter how many demons she encountered, her lips remained pristine … Red Lips that never mussed or faded and shone with heavy gloss. In the Final Season, Kaley Cuoco (now of Big Bang Theory) became a regular. Her lips were painted a natural shade but with that same thick, shiny perfect gloss.

Now, I like Make-up. I’ve been playing with it since I was little. I like to try out new colors. I like to have manicured nails. And I like to paint my face and create smokey eyes like any girly girl. I know how to use it, mostly. I experiment and spend quality time at the Lancome counter. But, no matter how many Lipsticks or Lip Glosses I buy, I can’t achieve that glossy shimmer that Rose and Kaley mastered on Charmed.

So what is it … this thick, shiny flawless look that lasts even after kissing a guy or vanquishing demons? And how do I create it … me, whose only demon battles occur in my dreams or sans potions during a tough day at the office. What gloss do I have to buy to achieve it? What brush do I use to paint lips to create a look that won’t crack or fade?

It’s not Dior, I’ve tried it. And that’s pretty much the top of the line. What is the secret formula? Who sells it? What brand is it? Where do I get it? How do I create “the look”? It’s much to shiny to be petroleum jelly and that’s the thickest gloss I can think of.

And that brings me to the next questions, how many breaks in action did it take to film one episode of Charmed? How many applications were necessary to keep the perfect lips perfect for 43 minutes? Was there a Lip Person on staff?

How Shallow am I, you may ask, to be concerned with creating perfect lips amidst the realities of today. Obsess much, Jenni? But I want “the look.” I want lovely, shiny lips … Perfect Lips.

But, Perfection is impossible. Perhaps it can be created on screen with a staff of Lip People and Directors shouting “Cut!” to pause the action for addition of a new lacquer of shine. Oh, I recognize the impossibility of achieving lip precision of this magnitude. I’ve learned to love myself as I am, lipstick free most days. But can the same be said for today’s teens? For today’s young women? Or are they too trying to achieve some TV-promoted concept of the “Ideal Look.”

I tell my daughter, there is no such thing as Perfect. That she is beautiful as she is. That no matter what she saw on Charmed (and Alyssa Milano made some very questionable fashion choices) that she is loved not because of how she manages her lipstick, hair and clothing but for her heart, kindness, compassion and spirit. When she once asked me if she looked Fat, I was horrified that a healthy, active and very normal 11-year-old would ask that question.

But Hollywood projects an image that many of us — myself included at times — are tempted to emulate. And, these Hollywood Stars make it all look so easy. The actresses are uber-thin with shiny, extension-laden, highlighted hair and trendy, fitted clothing. They have smooth clump-free painted lips and smile or pout, displaying their perfect lip gloss. But then, taking care of themselves and presenting the best of themselves is their job … a trainer, hair stylist or make-up artist is part of their packaging. They have Staff to present them to the world in a specifically defined way. But, I bet inside their own four walls, they are just like you and me, albeit a little thinner due to the fact the TV cameras add poundage.

The Hollywood life is defined by the camera … Perhaps that isn’t really “ideal” either. To live a life in the spotlight and be judged by the world by their looks. Kinda sad, really.

So I want Perfectly Glossed Lips. Yeah, okay I do. But, I’m not going to become obsessed. I’m going to present the best of myself possible, that’s just who I am. But there are days I go out without make-up. Days I opt to wear my comfy yoga pants and a cozy sweatshirt with my hair swinging in a high ponytail, no eye make-up on. And — ya know what? I don’t care who sees me that way … It’s real and it’s an aspect of who I am.

Yeah, I have a couple extra pounds or a few grey hairs I’d like to get rid of. But at 50, I feel really good about how I feel and how I look. I take care of myself, yes, and find joy in the woman I have become along this crazy journey. I’m good with me … Just the way I am. I hope my daughter continues to love and honor herself for who she is, not define herself based on some Hollywood stereotype. I will do everything in my power to help her.

But … if anyone knows what Lip Gloss creates that shiny 90’s lacquered look with staying power, I’d still really like to know …

— Jenni