Popularity or Greatness?

At the risk of revealing my lack of humility, I was the most popular kid in First Grade. The other children used to follow me around, worshipfully begging me to play with them. I can still hear them saying, “Susie, Susie, please pick me today.” I enjoyed the attention, of course, and continued to focus on my schoolwork and piano lessons. I didn’t just want to be the popular kid, I wanted to be the smart kid too. Greedy? Maybe.

Then puberty worked its hormonal confusion and being popular with boys added a new dimension. They liked girls who were good at sports, which I was not. “Popular” girls had a certain look and a coolness about them. I wanted to be the cheerleader and the homecoming queen, but neither happened. I guess I wasn’t “perfect” enough. I felt disdain for my flaws. My focus was more on popularity than greatness. I poured out my powerlessness over it all in my poems. I was drawn to songs that spoke to the popularity dilemma, such as “At 17” by Janis Ian. Music is a great release for adolescent angst.

Fast forward to present day popularity. Reality shows. Tabloid news. Stadiums full of “American Idol” wannabes. WE ALL WANNABE. Our chance encounter with George Lopez was filled with encouragement that if he could “make it,” so could Sue and Bob Lopez. But the question is, make what? Money? Fame? Celebrity? Some people get there by being great. Elton John comes to mind. But not all popular people are great.

My conclusion is that we all need to define greatness for ourselves and go for it. If popularity follows, that’s the icing on the cake. But pursuing popularity is frustrating, and I found it pretty empty. A steady diet of icing would get old. My greatness is in my ability to express. It takes many forms, and all have their rewards. I make money. I’m well known by the people I know well. And the paparazzi don’t bother me. My foibles don’t make the news. There are benefits to non-celebrity life.

Last night I was playing piano in a hotel lobby. A few “supermodels” stood nearby and had a very loud conversation about someone or shoes or something. The contrast stuck me. I was happy to be me. I’d rather be the talent than the supermodel. And I’d rather be Sue than Susie. My imperfections had a purpose after all. They give me dimension, depth, and—perhaps most importantly—humility.

Finding Peace Amidst Imperfection

I only have a few minutes to share this thought. Must get ready for work. I like my job. But do I wish today were Saturday? Yes. Do I wish Bob didn't have to work from 12-9:30 on Saturday? You betcha. I have almost trained my mind to recognize that thought, capture it, and quickly jump to another thought. It's a beautiful morning. Very still today. The sun is angling in across the yard and the kitchen counter. The counter is clean. The stove burners are not. The carpet is not. The windows are spotted. The chores are never done. The chores of life are never done. We are works in imperfect process. If I search for more imperfections, I will find them. If I search for peace, I'll find that too. The slow in and out of my breathing. The quiet in the house. The knowledge that God loves me, that Bob loves me, that I've been blessed with caring friends who have helped me through many a lonely Saturday. They understand. They have their own imperfections, and I do my best to empathize and help them on the pathway to peace. Love helps everything. It's the brake pad of life that keeps hard things from hitting each other. I'm always free to choose love. And peace. The hippies sure had that right! Peace out.

Dreaming

How much time do you spend dreaming every day? My answer is "not enough." I've become accustomed to life's can'ts instead of the cans. And just last weekend I was singing the song "Impossible" from Cinderella -- the quintessential song for dreamers. It says "impossible things are happening every day." And those things begin with a dream. The moment we stop dreaming, or believe a dream is stupid, our spirit dies. Not good. I dreamed of being a singer. I did it. I dreamed of writing songs. I did that too. I dreamed of finding my true love and marrying him. Wow, three for three! Then the obstacles got bigger. A work schedule that not only keeps us from spending time as a couple, it keeps us from having time to do our music. The obstacle hasn't won in reality. But maybe it has won over our spirits. Oh no. Not good. If it's possible for a plain yellow pumpkin to become a golden carriage, it's possible for two people who love each other to reclaim their lives and share their music. Because the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules. And won't believe what sensible people say. And because these daft and dewey-eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day. Thanks Rogers & Hammerstein!

Just say Yes!

One of my favorite songwriters wrote a song called “I Can’t Tell You No.” If you could see James Dean Hicks, you probably would have trouble telling him no too. But I digress. I love his line “all it takes is your sweet kiss, and yes starts rolling off my lips.” So much of life is about what we say yes or no to. This past weekend I said yes to almost everything. Yes I consumed too many calories…yes I lost sleep…yes I had a hangover three mornings in a row. Yes let’s meet after work at The Landing. Yes I’ll have some wine and yes I’ll have some real butter on that sourdough bread. Yes my mother-in-law can stay with us for the weekend. Yes let’s make that “not so easy” chicken pot pie recipe. Yes let’s drop more bucks than we can afford to see “Cinderella” at the Civic Arts Plaza. Yes let’s coordinate it so my sisters and brother-in-law can join us. Yes let’s buy cupcakes for $3.50 each, and let’s eat them. Yes I’ll go get a pizza. Yes I’ll give my testimony at church for both services. Yes I’ll sing too. Yes we can take Mom to mass. I did say “no” to Scrabble. I should have said yes. I would be batting a thousand. And I did pass on the Tequila shots because the headache isn’t worth it. It wasn’t really a no, because nobody asked me. The power of YES comes from its contrast to NO. If I always said yes to these things, they wouldn’t be as much fun. But do I wish I could say yes to all these things and more every weekend? YES, YES, YES!!! Here’s to more YES and less NO in life!