Masks

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. ~Oscar Wilde

I have always loved Halloween.To some children, Halloween was a terrifying night, filled with images of the Grim Reaper lurking around every corner, just waiting to pluck them away. It meant feeling frightened when going into haunted houses, and having to feel "eye balls" and "intestines" while blindfolded. I, on the other hand, was confident that the eyeballs were Jell-O covered golf balls and the spaghetti never once felt like 'guts' to me. Halloween, to me, was not an evening of nightmare and panic. Rather, it was a night to put on a different persona completely and to push the ever present daily timidity aside to step into the shoes of a confident alter-ego. The fact is, I was a terrified child. I was certain that monsters lurked under my bed. I was positive that something horrible was going to happen to my mother at any moment. I lived in a heightened state of heart-sinking dread the other 364 days per year. On Halloween, I felt free to put on the mask of confidence, assurance and aplomb. For me, Halloween wasn't a day to shrink away from the evil lurking around corners. It was the day to face that evil head on.

Costumes are an extraordinarily transforming experience. They allow you to physically become someone else for a moment. Actors have long understood this. When asked how he could play the Phantom, night after night, year after year, on Broadway, Michael Crawford quipped, "I put on the mask." Costumes allow us to become, just for an evening, a completely different person from our everyday lives. The year I was a cowgirl for Halloween, I felt the surge of energy from roping cattle on the Arizona plains. The year I was a Pioneer Girl, I knew that I had the grit to overcome any hardship we faced on the wagon train. When I was Leopard, I felt myself curling up, ready to spring on an unsuspecting prey. Of course, the year I was Dorothy, I had every confidence that clicking my heels three times would bring me home....if I so chose. When we step into a costume, when we put on a mask, when we pretend to be someone we're not, we are able to shed our insecurities, our neuroses, and our weaknesses. We are able to robe ourselves in fortitude, daring and brashness that comes with our characters.

When I first began studying yoga, years before I became a teacher, one of the aspects I most enjoyed was the ability to "play" the roles of the poses we were practicing. In Eagle Pose, I could envision myself perched high up in a tree, gazing down at the small world below and knowing that I could master it. In Lion Pose, I felt the power emanating from the breath, and knew that my strength came from within. In Frog Pose, my muscles feel springy and able to jump at a moment's notice. Dolphin Pose gave me the playful spirit and inner joy that I'd seen dolphins use when they'd swim alongside our boat. Yoga allowed me to put on the masks of each of these poses, while still allowing me to be myself; my own fearful, uncertain, fault ridden self. As a teacher, I've learned to create space in our classes for my students to explore all aspects of their personalities. For those who are shy, we practice powerful poses, such as Warrior, to help bring out the fighter in each of us. For those who lack grounding, we practice Mountain pose, to give the yogini a firm foundation. Most of all, what we practice in the classes I teach, is self-awareness. By learning where we can excel, we can build skill upon skill until the student can draw upon her own knowledge at any time.

The goal of any class, whether it's Yoga or Mathematics, is to teach the student how to learn. It's very difficult to instruct when a student doesn't understand how to open up to the material. By using the metaphors of the asanas in Yoga, I'm able to reach into a student's spirit and say, "It's the Cat working within you...", as she works through Cat pose. This allows the students to surrender embarrassment and reservation. The experience of using these poses to help build tenacity and poise can be as transforming as the donning of a mask. Once a student gains skill she will no longer have to pretend the part in the other areas of her life. She truly will have the grace of a Crane, the flexibility of a Bow and the open heart of a Gate. The masks necessary to pretend will fall away, and she will be as comfortable in life, as she is in the studio.

Do I still wear masks? Of course I do. We all do. We put on the mask of happiness when we're feeling cranky. We put on the mask of sarcasm when we're really feeling hurt. We put on the mask of indifference when we don't know how to change a negative situation. We put on the mask of spunk when all we want to do is curl up and sleep. We use masks every day to overcome our own shortcomings, or to help us through a difficult time. The question isn't whether or not we use these masks, but whether we're aware of the use. If we can be consciously attuned to their place in our lives, we can use them as an intended assist, rather than as an involuntary crutch.

What will I be for Halloween this year? The answer depends a great deal on how I'm feeling that day. I hope, however, that I feel most like being myself, and that masks will be unnecessary.

The Best Laid Plans

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” ~ Robert Burns

This past weekend, at my daughter's college preparatory school in Massachusetts, was Parents Weekend. October is the most glorious time of year to visit New England, and the area between the Berkshires and the New Hampshire border is aflame with every

possible Autumn blaze hue. The drive to the school itself is akin to trekking from one picture postcard view to the next. Nothing looks quite real: the entire countryside feels painted or imaginary. The school creates a festive atmosphere, as parents attend classes with their children. The nostalgia this brings back, particularly for those of us who attended similar schools, is palpable. I found myself wanting to raise my hand in French class and duck down below my seat in Algebra II; the old strengths and weaknesses still fully apparent. There were mixers, social gatherings, a hospitality tent, parent-teacher meetings, tours, fancy meals and a whole array of exceptional events to help connect parents with the school their children attend far away. Every sports team was scheduled for home games and each one is meant to be attended by all: not just the parents of those children playing. There is a wonderful sense of anticipation, connection, and a delightful schedule with just enough activity to keep both parents and children on track for a great experience.

Yet, as Robert Burns so eloquently put it, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." One aspect of any kind of special event that can't be taken into the meticulous planning is the weather. As delightful as New England fall can be one day, the weather can turn 180 degrees the next. The rain came pouring down onto the school, onto the elegantly appointed festival tent, onto the playing fields, onto the carefully groomed paths and onto the families scurrying from one ivy covered building to another. The bookstore and student center became a makeshift life raft as parents thronged in to buy raincoat pullovers, umbrellas and dry sweatshirts, all emblazoned with the school's colors and mascot. Mothers that carefully styled their hair and wore their cashmere elegantly, found themselves holding fuzzy school blankets over their heads just to make it to the next destination. Games were postponed, cancelled or played under adverse conditions and all events were modified to accommodate the uninvited guest of an Autumn gale. But, parents, teachers, administrators soldiered on with good cheer and a sense of humor.

There were smiles and jokes about Mother Nature nasty sense of humor until the next snafu arrived: the H1N1 virus. Sadly, there were 7 student cases of the flu diagnosed at school, as well as one teacher. An emergency assembly was convened and a crisis plan of action was enacted. Since many of the students enjoy going to the nearby hotel with their parents for the evenings, strict rules were set in place about both the taking off of campus, and the returning to, of all children. All needed to screened upon arrival, and any child found to have a fever would not be allowed to return to campus. Additionally, parents were informed that, should their child come down with the flu in the coming weeks, arrangements must be made to pick that child up from school until she is better. These precautions complicated the weekend dramatically: plans for groups of parents to go out together changed, students were asked to clear out their lockers in the fitness building to make room for a quarantine area, and returning plans included waiting time at the health center before the child could return to campus. The ill members of the community were never far from any one's thoughts, nor were the concerns about everyone else's health. Parents regarded their teenagers more closely, carefully looking for signs of flu. Children looked at their parents sneezes with more concern.

Regardless of the "Nor'easter" storm, and the Flu outbreak, it was a terrific weekend. Instead of feasting under the bright canopy of golden October skies, families gathered at nearby restaurants. In the place of huge crowds at the football game, a number of kids watched in house movies at the hotel...a rare treat for the entertainment deprived prep school students. Parents had coffee in small groups in the lounge, getting to know one another. Teachers remained longer in the open house, chatting, as much as filling parents in on students' progress. The carefully planned and lovingly tweaked schedule went out the window, as the community came together, putting a brave, unified facade together against the gathering storm of downpours and flu.

Parents Weekend 2009 will probably go down in the school's annals of Murphy's Law: "what can go wrong, will go wrong". I hope, however, that there will also be a note of what went right this weekend: a community came together expecting a weekend of frivolity and instead experienced a flood and flu. Complications notwithstanding, I believe that the perseverance of the entire community, the flexibility of schedules, the generosity of spirit, and the common belief that all will be well regardless of the circumstances, should, in fact, be what is remembered....not the hardships, but the resolution.

Next year, however, I will pack my rain boots.

Bearing Fruit

A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love. ~ St. Basil

The Harvest Theme is prevalent this time of year. All cultures, from indigenous peoples to urban landscapes, seem to take time to relish hard work's results. Many elementary schools will offer field trips to go apple picking, churches will be hosting harvest festivals, high schools will have homecoming weekends and businesses will even bring their financial picture to a close for the year. Although the calendar year continues for several more months, the time of harvest is one of celebration, appreciation, goal accomplishment and bounty. It's also a time to take stock in what went well in the past year, and a time to plan ahead for next. Whether we are evaluating our home's garden, or our financial gains, we have an exceptional opportunity to see which areas bore fruit and which did not.

In a garden, most plants will bloom each year, given the correct conditions. Plants need the proper amounts of sunshine, water, fertilizer or nutrients and soil. They need to be pruned regularly to remove excess growth in the wrong places. They need to be studied and cared for. Yet, despite our best efforts, there are years in which our trees do not bear fruit, our flowers never blossom and our vegetables remain stunted. Our garden may appear to have stalled. We can pour over our notes, ask other gardeners and inquire of our neighbors similar plants. In the long run, however, if a plant has stopped bearing fruit, despite our best intentions, then it's time to cut it back to the ground. Some plants will respond well to this harsh treatment; they'll come back fuller and healthier the next season. Others, however, remain lifeless and useless. These are the plants we need to remove, roots and all. If we don't take the roots out carefully and completely, weak stems will continue to spring up and will suck the life away from healthier plants. We have to excavate all trace of these plants to allow those around them to flourish, and to allow for the sowing of new plants in their place.

Our lives can sometimes feel like a garden that's not doing well. There will be some areas of our lives that are thriving. These aspects are receiving the correct, balanced amount of time, care and compassion. Other areas may seem to suck the lifeblood out of us. We may feel drained, angry, bitter, unappreciated and uncomfortable. However, for many of us, we would rather carry on in a job, a relationship or a habit pattern that is unhealthy than to hack away at the life-draining roots of the problems. It's never easy to make those cuts. We don't want to feel like "quitters". We don't want to let people down. We don't want to feel as if we have failed. If we change our attitude regarding this non-fruit bearing areas in our lives, we will find that we can make the drastic cuts with a clear conscience.

The first step is to identify those parts of our lives from which we receive no satisfaction, from which we feel stymied from making a valued contribution or from which we feel distressed. We have to take an honest appraisal of our schedules. What is taking up the most time? How do we feel about that commitment? Is it gratifying or soul-wrenching? Not every part of our day is going to be fun. Yet there are some commitments that act like emotional vampires, robbing us of our ability for growth in our more productive areas. Sometimes, this may entail walking away from a committee, on which we find we have absolutely no voice or role to play. We may find that

we spend more time debating than accomplishing our mission. For others this may involve ending a relationship. At one time or another, all of us have been involved with people who are draining, volatile and overly demanding. They give us no positive reflection in our lives, but only take what they want, treating us badly. It's never easy to cut out a person from our lives, but there are times it must be done in order to preserve our other relationships...and our very well being. We have to be methodical, polite and pragmatic in this process, acknowledging our own enabling but in the end, still cutting that person out of our lives, down to the root. Leaving a job that's not working is also challenging, especially if we need that position for our income. In this instance, it may not be possible to simply slash and burn as we quit. We need to think of our future as we would planting a garden: we tend to prepare the soil by contacting employment services and reading the classified ads, as well as to inform our contacts that we are job hunting. We need to prepare our resumes as we would prepare a seed to be planted, and then scatter those seeds in the places we believe they'll take the firmest hold. Finally, we need to add the right amounts of confidence and persistence, as we would add sunshine and water to our garden. When the new plant of our new job begins, we can remove the old roots...politely.

The bearing of fruit in our lives is incalculably important. We want to be productive, positive, joyful, creative and engaged people. This will not happen overnight. Just as a garden can take years to cultivate and grow, so will the fruit of our efforts. But, if we make small changes to improve our outlook, our perspective and our goals, we can begin to see the tiniest green chutes of success begin peeking through the soil. With attention, focus and meticulous care, we can find that our harvest, one year from now, will one of plenty.

Cain and Abel...what's a mother to do?

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

In my theology course, we're slowly making our way through the Old Testament this term. Although many of the Biblical stories are familiar to me, I find that I'm reading these words with a new awareness. So much of the mythic qualities of the Bible tend to become "Jungized" in our minds; we lose track of the specifics of the tales and remember the archetypal symbols. As I read through the 4th chapter of Genesis, in preparation for my weekly presentation, I read Cain and Abel's story in a completely different way than I had as a child. I read the story with a mother's heart. That one brother would 'rise up and kill' another over petty jealousy is among a mother's worst nightmare.

At no point in the Genesis account of God's dealing with the first case of sibling rivalry is Eve mentioned. Eve, mother of both Cain and Abel, must have been heartbroken. One son lies dead, murdered by his own brother. The other brother is exiled from his home to go to "the Land of Nod" with only an ambiguous reference to a "mark" as protection. How did Eve handle this dramatic and devastating turn of events? What did Adam do? How do parents get over the loss of both of their children in one day? In the Biblical account, Adam and Eve are not featured players. Their only mention was by way of introduction in telling us who the boys' parents were. But, we know nothing about their parenting, if the boys had always argued over which sea to part or who received a bigger portion at dinner. The fact is, Cain and Abel are born....and because God shows favor to Abel, he is murdered. No serpent is needed to play the sly 'idea planter'. No rationale is given to us, other than Cain's jealousy. We are left in the dark about the boys' childhood, about the events leading up to our culture's first murder and to the family reaction. This would not make an easy case to be built on C.S.I. Too many of the details are missing.

Although she is not mentioned, other than having 'known' her husband and giving birth to a 'male child', Eve must have gone through an unimaginable time of loss. Because the Bible is based on oral tradition, having been told around nomadic campfires for millennia before it was written down, I can't help but be certain that the storytellers, who perpetuated this piece of the Genesis puzzle, were exclusively male. Every woman I know would want more details. There isn't a mother alive who would be willing to simply look at the larger picture, taking the life lessons from the story, and moving on, without wondering how Eve felt and what she did. I can only imagine her complete sense of disillusionment with God's Creation. Men may be able to gloss over these losses, but women need to cry, to talk through the situation and to ask themselves what they could have done differently. Eve must have felt like a failure: first, she gets her husband and herself kicked out of the Garden of Eden (her dream home), and then settling in the wilderness, gives birth to two boys, without an epidural or a baby shower. When the boys begin to fight, Eve has no idea what to do. There is no parenting support group. She doesn't have a mother to call to say "Ma, these boys are driving me crazy!". When the worst happens, and her life is torn apart yet again, it is difficult for me to imagine her turning to God for help. He seems to be done with her. What's Eve to do next?

Sibling rivalry is never easy for a parent. In my own case, it came as a complete shock to me. Because I'm an only child, I harbored fantasies about having siblings and how much fun it would be. I imagined that we would always play nicely together, and that there would always be someone to talk to. It never occurred to me that brothers and sisters would fight. Having two children almost exactly two years apart, I imagined my two being best friends forever. I thought about how they would go apple picking, go to the beach, go bike riding and even share books. I dreamed that they would call each other, as they got older, almost daily, and share a unique bond because they share my husband's and my DNA. Reality is different from fantasy, isn't it? While I am thankful that my children do not harbor the "Cain and Abel" syndrome of extreme sibling jealousy, I can say that there have been hostile words, shoving hands, nasty comments and death stares across the table. There have been car rides that turned into cage matches. There have been items chucked across the room that were never intended to be used as weapons. In short, life with siblings hasn't been perfect. Although they played well as young children, by the time they hit middle school, war had been declared and battle lines had been drawn. What my children failed to understand is that every harsh word, every time they excluded their brother or sister, each nasty action broke my heart just a little bit. They believe that their relationship is between them...and only them. They do not fathom that the way the treat each other reflects on how I've tried to mother them: to be loving, kind, generous and courageous. I did not raise them to be petty, snarky, vindictive or rude. In the words of Andy Warhol "I just want everybody to like everybody".

Interestingly, during our discussion on this topic in divinity class, I was the only student to wonder about Eve. I am also the only mother actively parenting two children. The majority of the discussion centered around motivation, weapons and the impact on civilization. These are all noble, fascinating and interesting topics of conversation. They're clearly more common than my own ponderings as to whether or not Eve used 'time out' with the boys or took away bird watching privileges. I wish I could meet Eve for coffee....in the years before the scene played out to its dire end. I wonder if she could have used a sympathetic ear, a mother's night out or some brainstorming strategies to get those boys to behave. I also wish I could pick her brain about being the mother of civilization as we know it. But, that might have to be a discussion for another time. In short, I wonder if Eve was as emotionally exhausted as most mothers are today. I wonder if she was surprised by Cain's vicious attack, or if she would have shook her head sadly and said, "I saw it coming, but there was nothing I could do."

Being a mother is challenging on the best of days. We love our children, and we want them to love each other. We hope that they will take the very best of the lessons we try to teach them and bring those out into the world. We do not expect them to behave like cranky, irresponsible, angry beasts. As we read any book, whether it's the Bible, or a popular piece of fiction, we read it with eyes that have come from experience. It's virtually impossible to separate our lives from our ways of interpretation. What is important to us in life will be the details we pick up the most on as we read. The Bible isn't any different in this sense: stories that speak to our hearts are the ones that resonate with us. As a mother of two, I found that my interpretation of Genesis 4 was radically different from that of my classmates. Perhaps that's one of the most fascinating aspects of education...what we bring into the classroom is what we can share with others.

While I'll never be able to encourage Eve to treat the boys evenly, and to build up their self-esteem in the ways in which each of her sons needed it most, I can relate to her 'untold' part of this story: that of a mother dealing with sibling rivalry. As my children have grown up, their conflicts are less pronounced and they even have fun together once again. I may still not like it when they bicker or pointedly ignore one another, but I do see an improvement that's come with maturity. I no longer have to referee the "I'm not touching you!" drama coming from the back seat of the car. But, I can still pray, encourage and hope for my son and daughter to establish a positive relationship as they get older.

At least, I won't have to pull over to the side of the road and seethe, "Nobody is ever to touch anybody again!".

Fail to plan...plan to fail.

I am the first person to admit that I am a dreadful planner. I have no idea what I need to do, where I need to go, and who I'm going to disappoint. The fact is, I tend to be a spontaneous person. I hate making reservations because it feels like a albatross laden commitment. I adore 'just happening' upon an unknown-until-now restaurant. There is something magical about the power of synchronicity that never fails to excite me. Some of the most extraordinary experiences I've had have been ones that have just been allowed to unfold on their own. I've met wonderful people, dove into brand new experiences (for which I had no time to become nervous) and experienced adventures without any sense of preparation of apprehension. I marvel at the twists and turns my paths will take, if I am open to any possibility.

While I think of myself as a free spirit, I certainly don't appear that way to others. I have a horrible feeling that, where I see a joie de vivre, others may see a carelessness. When I envision myself as extroverted and spontaneous, others may see as foolhardy and irresponsible. I have been open to exceptional adventures, simply by being in the right place at a specific moment. But, I have let others down. I have forgotten appointments, I have spaced out commitments and I have been impetuous when caution was merited. I have been disorganized, while trying to explain that my methods might "appear" to be unstructured but that there is order within the chaos. Few people actually buy that malarkey from me....and those are very close to me will call me on my lack of prior planning.

For the most part, I truly want to be more organized. I would prefer not to disappoint anyone I care about. I would love to know where every important item is when I need it. I would like to have a yearly calendar that I simply update every December for the following year. Numerous friends have tried to 'teach me' their systems but their methodology just gets lost in my creative process (otherwise known as laziness). I like to believe that I have an artistic temperament and that I need a certain amount of chaos to flourish for me to see the larger picture. I feel stifled when in the presence of someone overly regimented....such as the Queen of Order herself: Bree Van DeCamp from "Desperate Housewives". One area I find fascinating, as well as entertaining, about Bree is that the more she pulls in the reins of her scheduled perfection, the more her life begins to unravel. While I enjoy using that extreme as an example, I believe that deep down, I have a fear of the very same thing happening to me: if I structure my life, I will stifle myself and everything for which I'm responsible will fall apart.

The single area in which I have discovered the ideal balance is in my yoga classes. I teach 4 to 5 classes per week. Because I teach Ashtanga Yoga, I have created a rudimentary outline for the form the classes will take. My students find this to be extremely comforting because they are able to expect what general poses will come next. This outline also allows for a few spaces in which to 'add in' some new asanas to try. While I try to offer at least 4 new poses each month, these experimental times are still 'scheduled' within the framework of the traditions of our class. My students are able to prepare for a time to try poses that are far more challenging during these blocks, or far more restorative. We allow ourselves to be open to the possibilities that these new asanas will offer us, individually and as a group. There are some that are more successful than others...so successful that I will continue to develop our course design with these new poses to become a regular part of our day. There are others that bomb miserably, and all of us can't wait to be done with them forever.

I have begun to set more realistic goals for myself. I realize that I will never be a color coded system Mom. I may still lose track of an important paper or two. I will overlook a project I had been sure I'd get to. But, I plan on attacking my firm commitments more immediately. I believe that the sooner I am able to finish an assignment, the more quickly I will have to move onto the next train of thought I'm being pulled towards. By giving myself the idea of "no more procrastination", I may just be able to fulfill my responsibilities, while still having time to drift towards an art exhibit I was delighted to discover. Who knows? A more proactive me may still retain the same light heart.

I just hope I can remember where I left my shoes because I'm eager to get started.

Is life not a hundred times too short for us to stifle ourselves. ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Wedding Belle Blues

My 15 year old daughter and I have fallen in love with a television show. TLC's "Say Yes to the Dress" is a journey with several women, each of whom is on a quest for the perfect wedding gown. Some of these brides will choose a slinky, sexy number. Others will want to look like a fairy princess, with yards and yards of train in the gown. Some brides will be contemporary, modern and simply chic, while others will want to evoke an old fashioned air of womanly loveliness. To find dresses to fit each of these women's taste and appeal, they head to Kleinfeld in New York, and try on a variety of gowns. There are more than 30 bridal consultants working at Kleinfeld, and each one of these "happiness specialists" may meet with upwards of a dozen clients per day. What always impresses me about these consultants is their ability to find what the bride dreams of in a gown, and then does her best to make that dream come true. Sometimes this means the consultants will suggest gowns that are of a different style, or more often, a different price range, than the bride came in desiring. This usually has positive results. The brides will be utterly overcome at seeing themselves as their "dream selves" emerge in the mirror's reflection. The show is pure escapist fantasy, but it's also great fun, watching brides find the dress that will make them feel the most beautiful.

There are other episodes that make me very sad. Kleinfeld only carries the most elegant in their selection of bridal gowns. I do have to admit that these are stunning examples of art. Yet, I'm overwhelmed by the prices on most of these dresses. Please do not misunderstand my intent: I am not criticizing the makers of these gowns, especially since an enormous amount of time and effort are necessary to create each magnificent piece. Still, I wonder about spending $30,000 on one dress....is it really necessary? The vast majority of brides are not J-Lo. They do not have tens of thousands of dollars to spend on their dream gown. And so, they go into debt in order to pay for a dress that they're positive will make them the most elegant bride in order to guarantee the happiest start to their marriages.

Little girls dream of wearing a long white dress, walking down the aisle on their fathers' arms, and hosting a lavish party. These are wonderful dreams that most of us have had. I can vividly remember dancing around with a white pillowcase on my head, carrying a potted fern, and pretending to walk up the aisle. These are magical ways that many girls use their imagination. Still, when that imagination runs wild, girls grow up and truly believe that without a gown by Vera Wang, or Pnina Tornai, their weddings, let alone their marriages, are doomed. I find this both immeasurably sad and deeply disconcerting. A wedding should be a beautiful celebration of the joining together of two lives. It shouldn't have to be a method of bankrupting a bride or her family just to have to particular look.

One of the nicest weddings I've ever attended was that of my parents. I was in the unusual position of being their flower girl. My mom bought her dress (and mine) off the rack in New York, and we didn't hear the words 'wedding consultant' once. My father had the food delivered from his business, and it was simple and elegant. Music was provided by family and friends and the focus on the outdoor picnic in our own yard was casual and joyful. Since few children can be in their parents' weddings, I was fortunate to be with them as they took their vows before their guests. Although they had been together for a number of years before their wedding, this public declaration of their commitment stayed with me all of my life. I never viewed a wedding as an end, but rather of a continuation of a life already shared, and a promise to be there for another person, regardless of the paths life would take. My parents created a lovely wedding for my husband and me 22 years ago, and I wouldn't have changed a thing. My mother made my gown, my father set a budget, and we created just as special a day for me to begin my married life, as they had created for themselves 20 years before. At no time did I feel short changed that I missed out on wearing a big name. I wore a stunning gown, stitched with love for over a year, and was far more proud to wear a "Mama" original, than one that had been reproduced hundreds of times. The emphasis on our wedding was on our life together, not on the extravaganza itself. I feel incredibly blessed to have been a lifelong witness to what a true marriage partnership looks like. I also feel honored to have been my parents' guest of honor at their wedding.

I still enjoy watching wedding shows on television. "Bridezilla" makes me want to cringe and run away at the horror of some women's dreadful behavior. "Whose Wedding is it Anyway?" takes me into the fast paced world of a wedding consultant. Most of all, "Say Yes to the Dress" is simply great fun in a junky magazine sort of way. These programs are entertaining. They're not great art, but they don't need to be. I just hope the brides watching the programs understand that a wedding is far more than a dress...and a marriage is far more than a color scheme. Entertainment, imagination and daydreaming are delightful pastimes. They help us to dream big, to set goals and to create lives for ourselves. We just have to realize the method of how we make those dreams come true for ourselves says a great deal about our character. We need to set our intention to create the spirit inside our inner bride that will match our beautiful gowns. When we can behave the way in which we want to reflect, we'll have a much better chance of a successful marriage, than if we see our dresses as the only way to achieve beauty. We need to learn to 'act as we dress' and create lasting beauty that will far outreach our wedding day.

Women are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only when there is a light from within. ~ Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

The Pursuit of Happiness

The Constitution only guarantees the American people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself. ~Benjamin Franklin

All too often, in our culture, we wait for situations to conform to a specific outcome before we will allow ourselves to feel happy. We believe that the stars must be aligned. We wait for Mr. (or Ms.) Right to come along. We hope that our dream job will be offered to us, that the extra 20 pounds we're carrying around our middle will vanish or that we will move into our dream house. We desperately want to be seen as more valuable, more intelligent, more attractive and more successful. We just feel, in our heart of hearts, that if we can achieve these traits that lie just outside our grasp, that then, and only then, will we be happy.

I'm just as guilty of this as the next woman. I wish I were taller and thinner. I wish my hair didn't look quite so dreadful. I wish I were a much better cook. I wish my home looked just as perfect, at every moment, as if it were about to appear in an issue of Better Homes & Gardens. I wish I had more friends. I wish my writing was more insightful. I wish I were more intelligent, articulate, attractive and successful. Most of all, I wish that I wouldn't have all of these wishes. I wish I could feel absolutely complete and content without wishing.

When I had first read the quote by Benjamin Franklin, I was both inspired and more than just a

little intimidated. I have always enjoyed Mr. Franklin's wit and humor. I enjoyed his take on the 'Pursuit of Happiness' ideal set forth in the Constitution. Yet, I was also chastened. Did one of the most powerful thinkers of our nation's history truly mean for *me* to go catch my own happiness? Herein, lies the issue I felt immediately: I did not feel qualified to go chasing down my own happiness. What a frightening thought! I was meant to go take risks, endure possible humiliation and never, for certain, attain my dreams? What if I tried, with all my might and all my power, to grasp those 'wishes' and fell short? I was terrified beyond measure.

At this moment I learned something invaluable about myself: I was so stymied by my own fear of failure that I was going to allow happiness to pass me by. I discovered, sadly, that I was far more content to hold my wishes close and secret, than I was to try to chase them down and risk

losing them forever. A large part of me has always worried that, by naming what I wish for, and working to attain it, I will lose the possibility of that wish coming true. As long as I don't try for my dreams, then I won't be disappointed. In the meantime, I'm setting myself up for a lifetime of sitting around wishing, waiting, hoping and never taking a risk. I also realized that by not even trying, I am not allowing myself the moments of happiness and contentment that are to be found in everyday life.

Therefore, I plan to do a great deal more doing, and a great deal less dreaming. I plan to become more involved in own my life, and less of an observer. I plan to count my blessings more, and my difficulties less. I plan to love more, and criticize less. Above all, I plan to catch my own happiness....and wait for it less.

I just wish thinner thighs were a part of the bargain.