scrapologie

Hello friends...

 

 

Hello friends, I've missed blogging and making art, but I never stop thinking about both. I've been exceptionally busy this year. I hope you've been well. For me, this has mostly been a year of learning to balance home, work, motherhood, friendships and health while still taking time to pursue some of my interests. Here are some of the things I've been up to this year:

- Work has amped up busier than ever. I've been meeting regularly with three mentors at work and have been researching a career change while maintaining my current job. Recently, my employer agreed to finance my masters degree, for which I am so very grateful!

- As a result of the above, I've applied for the graduate program in Instructional Design and Performance Technology at Franklin University and plan to start coursework this January.

- I was selected for my employer's regional Diversity and Inclusion Council, promoting cultural and diversity themed events at my company, in the capacity of an event coordinator. This has been immensely rewarding for me; I've been able to help promote diversity awareness and educate our workforce about the importance of embracing diversity. Our world is changing, and with it, our attitudes and the way in which we view those who are different from us must change as well, if we are to succeed in working together to build a better future for generations to come.

- My little girl turned 10 this year. She's been very busy herself with her own activities. She reads voraciously, has been involved in gymnastics, Girl Scouts and Kumon, and was one of 6 girls from her school selected by OSU's Women In Engineering for their Jasz Bots program which is affiliated with First Lego League. This team of fifth grade girls meet with female grad students in OSU's engineering department twice a week, for two and a half hours after school. Together, they have researched a topic on FLL's theme this year (Nature's Fury) and are working on ideas and ways to combat their chosen environmental disaster (wildfires). In addition, they have built and programmed a Lego robot; the team will compete utilizing their robot at an upcoming event in December. It's a great introduction for girls to a potential future career in engineering.

- I've continued my commitment to fitness and nutrition, continuing to hit the gym 5 nights a week, both cardio as well as weights/resistance training and core exercises.

- I've become very interested in organic foods and natural wellness products, as well as meditation and wellness in general.

- I've connected with old friends and made several new ones. I have enjoyed the fulfillment brought by these relationships, and particularly by doing for and helping others when I can, as I am grateful for the love and help they constantly give me.

- I made some time for fun as well, traveling to Orlando and Disney with Alekha in mid-October, during Epcot's Food and Wine Festival. We also got to visit the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios, which Alekha and I both loved!

- I've continued my pursuit of photography, though I haven't had time to sit down and edit photos!

- I spent some quality time with my parents, who I love dearly and are slowing down a bit.

- Lastly, I spent a lot of time in quiet reflection and introspection, pondering the life I'd like to lead, the things I have yet to do, the places I've yet to see and the memories I have yet to make.

I am happy, and life has been good. I do miss blogging and keeping in touch with all my online friends, but think of you all frequently, and wish you all happiness and peace. I am looking forward to what 2014 brings.

“...I want first of all - in fact, as an end to these other desires - to be at peace with myself. I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can. I want, in fact - to borrow from the language of the saints -to live 'in grace' as much of the time as possible. I am not using this term in a strictly theological sense. By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony...”
(Anne Morrow Lindbergh)

Much Love,

Ranjini

 

 

 

The key to a happy relationship...

Grumble. It has occurred to me that I am the only person in my house who knows how to change a roll of toilet paper. It's not rocket science, people!! It doesn't matter that in one of the bathrooms, there was a new multi-pack of toilet paper sitting just by the toilet. No one had bothered to even open the package, let alone take a new roll out and replace it onto the empty spindle. In another bathroom, a half-used roll of toilet paper sat on the counter, just inches away from the spindle. Apparently, the effort of removing it from its packaging was so exhausting, that there was no energy left over to see that it made its way onto the spindle. It's just the sort of thing that causes me to pause after the exertion of a rigorous morning session of toilet paper replacement, in no less than three bathrooms, and ponder what would happen, if just for fun, I packed my bags and upped and left for a two month excursion to Kathmandu, just to see if anyone would replace the toilet paper roll in my absence. I have a feeling the unopened multipack of toilet paper would still be there to greet me, two months later. 

After reflecting on the institution of marriage for over 17 years, it's begun to dawn on me that it's not the big things that count in maintaining a happy balance in relationships. At the end of the day, religion, politics and money all take the backseat to the lesser matters of the day - which, as it turns out, is the toilet paper.

I was intrigued when a friend (who happens to be Christian) told me that she and her spouse underwent a pre-marital interview with their pastor at their church, to ensure that they were compatible, and to have the blessings of the church to proceed with their holy union. Sure, they've been married for 14 years now, but I couldn't help but wonder if they tackled the bigger issue of toilet-paper-roll-changing etiquette at the pre-marital interview. I am thinking probably not, as she tends to complain about the same issues that I do. Her spouse works in the financial sector, but really, it doesn't matter - I know of physicists and mechanical engineers who are mystified and daunted by the prospect of changing a roll of toilet paper.

Having had a Hindu marriage ceremony myself, I can't help but feel I missed out on the telling pre-marital interview, though it's hard to imagine my Sanskrit-chanting, bare-chested, cotton dhoti-clad priest, with his limited command of English, conducting a pre-marital interview to ensure compatibility. But you can be sure if I ever get married again, I'll interview the candidate myself!

What sort of questions should be asked at a pre-marital interview? Certainly, it's important to cover the issues on how the couple will manage money, their religious beliefs, their roles in the relationship, their ideas on child rearing, at what temperature the thermostat should be set, etc. But let's face it, none of the answers to the aforementioned even matter, if they don't share similar beliefs on toilet-paper-roll-changing etiquette.

Therefore, I have constructed a short sample questionnaire which I will be sure to send, along with a letter of recommendation that these questions be added to the existing set of pre-marital interview questions posed to those hopeful, happy couples presenting for the Lord's blessings, to the heads of the major churches in the United States: Roman Catholic, Episcopalian, Lutheran, Methodist, Baptist, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, Mormon, etc.

It is my firm belief that these questions should be mandatory and posed in a pre-marital interview session, for all couples, regardless of faith or creed:

1) Do you even check before you sit down to use the facilities, whether the toilet paper has depleted on the roll?

a) yes ----> Good choice! Move on to the next question!
b) no ------> Wrong answer. Check with your optometrist as to whether you need glasses.

2) What is your response when you see that the toilet paper has depleted on the roll?

a) I immediately check my well-stocked pantry and get a roll of Charmin (the extra-fluffy kind that my spouse likes), and replace it like the grown-ass man (or woman) that I am, with an air of responsibility and accomplishment.
b) I holler for someone to get me some toilet paper, while attempting to use the two remaining squares that are sticking to the cardboard.
c) I grab a tissue from the box of tissues on the counter, instead.
d) What toilet paper??

3) The correct placement for the toilet paper is:

a) on the spindle, positioned so that the paper rolls under, not over.
b) on the spindle, positioned so that the paper rolls over, not under
c) on the sink, floor or anywhere close enough to grab.
d) what toilet paper?

4) The correct position for the toilet seat after I've used the facilities is:
a) down
b) up

If you and your prospective spouse answered all a's, you get a diploma in Advanced Toilet Paper Roll Changing Etiquette from me, and you have my blessings to marry, knowing that you can confidently navigate any rough waters ahead since you've dealt with the far weightier matters!

In the event that you are one of those unfortunate souls who is already married to someone who has failed the quiz above, then you will want to gently direct him or her to this insightful and informative how-to article from e-How, which is very helpful in the instruction of changing the toilet paper roll. Just smile very sweetly and tell them it's in the interest of retaining your marital bliss. After all, we all have to learn, SOME time!

 

Little Women

 I’d have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I’d write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie’s music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle—something heroic, or wonderful—that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead. I don’t know what, but I’m on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream. (Jo March in "Little Women")

 

Each year at Christmas, I pull out my Little Women DVD (the version with Susan Sarandon and Wynona Ryder) and settle down for an evening of reacquaintance with Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy and Marmee. It's a personal tradition, and brings back many memories of the beloved little book I fell in love with years ago.

When I was 13, my grandfather presented me with a copy of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. I  devoured the book within a week, then quickly proceeded to read Little Men, Jo's Boys, Under the Lilacs, Rose in Bloom, and every other book penned by Ms. Alcott that I could lay hands on, shortly thereafter.  Little Women has long remained my favorite. I adored the four March sisters and their loving 'Marmee', but I was drawn to identify with impatient, independent, headstrong Jo. I laughed at her follies, cried with her at the loss of her sweet Beth, felt her anguish as she mourned the failures of her character, pondered the lessons of the Pilgrim's Progress along with her, admired her pluck, courage and selflessness as she chopped off her beautiful chestnut mane to earn money for her mother's travel expenses, and cheered when she sold her first stories. I felt her keen sense of injustice when cantankerous Aunt March chose Amy, over Jo, as her traveling companion to Europe. My 13-year-old self was disappointed when Jo failed to return the romantic attentions of her handsome and wealthy young neighbor Laurie, but later understood Alcott's decision to wed her heroine to the considerably older, and decidedly less dashing, Professor Bhaer.

In an age where comportment and decorum were highly regarded and the roles of women clearly defined, Jo represented a break with the traditional view of the Victorian woman.She held a job, spoke (much to the chagrin of her sisters), in the slang used by the young men of her time, was a regular tomboy and longed to go fight alongside her father in the Civil War.

I hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy's games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!

Little Women would leave an impression upon me. Like Jo, I dreamed of being a writer and went on to major in Journalism. Some years later, I'd marry into a Punjabi Indian family and would receive instruction in the importance of the appropriate dress, appearance and comportment of a new Indian bride from my inlaws, who wanted me to make a good impression on friends and family, as I accompanied them on various social calls. I openly rebelled against their advice and complained about the requisite social calls, remembering Jo's own aversion to "society":

She hated calls of the formal sort, and never made any till Amy compelled her with a bargain, bribe, or promise. In the present instance there was no escape, and having clashed her scissors rebelliously, while protesting that she smelled thunder, she gave in, put away her work, and taking up her hat and gloves with an air of resignation, told Amy the victim was ready.

Jo March, you are perverse enough to provoke a saint! You don't intend to make calls in that state, I hope,: cried Amy, surveying her with amazement.

Why not? I'm neat and cool and comfortable, quite proper for a dusty walk on a warm day. If people care more for my clothes than they do for me, I don't wish to see them. You can dress for both, and be as elegant as you please. It pays for you to be fine. It doesn't for me, and furbelows only worry me.

Jo's sentiments about clothing and dress echoed my own at the time. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, and felt if people couldn't accept me for who I was, regardless of how I was dressed, I had no use for them. And Amy's response quite echoed my mother-in-law's, when I would announce that I had no desire or intention to change into the clothes she'd suggested.

Over the years, as my interest in art and design developed, I began to view the form and function of clothing a little differently, but I still recall fondly the simplicity and idealism of my 26-year-old self as a new bride, and see how Jo helped to inspire and shape the person I was. What stood out to me about Jo's character was her persistence and belief that women could do anything that men could.

Admittedly, there are passages in Little Women that would annoy the modern reader, certainly some that espouse old gender stereotypes and many that read as Puritanical and prude, but given the context in which the book was written, i.e., against the backdrop of the Victorian era, 19th century America, Little Women was ground-breaking literature for young women of the time, and Alcott influenced other writers of literature for girls, including Canadian author L.M. Montgomery who penned the Anne of Green Gables series, (another favorite).

Little Women remains a timeless classic. Once we get past the straight-laced, "goody-goody" passages, we can retain its valuable message. The sweet and simple lessons it imparted a little over a hundred years ago still hold true for us; that the things that matter most are those that cost the least - family, sisterhood, charity, character, humility, laughter, friendship, compassion, learning and love. And that as humans, we are constantly a work in progress; we make mistakes, we err and commit foibles that we later wish to  erase, but we go on to learn from them, always holding true to our values, and to who we are on the inside.

“Women work a good many miracles…”

Hoping you had a wonderful Christmas! 

In Praise of Libraries

Lately I've been seeing more and more about the dim future that awaits our country's libraries, and I worry about it. With the advent of e-books and advances in technology and communication, we should be seeing the face of the library as we know it, expanding to accommodate these new means of information access. Instead, I fear, we are witnessing the demise of one of the greatest public institutions of all time. This article, though brief, shares a quick snapshot of some of these concerns, which include publishers that refuse to sell e-books to libraries and major booksellers whose interests are not aligned with the preservation of libraries. Author Harry McCracken cites Carson Block of Carson Block Consulting as follows:

"Libraries, Block argued, aren't just book-loaning facilities. They're also about equal opportunity and community, and perhaps they should rebrand themselves as being about access, not books."

Citing apathy as a major threat to libraries, he goes on to argue that "we've always needed libraries; now more than ever, libraries need us". I couldn't agree with this statement more.

Looking back upon my childhood, I can attest to the profound effect that my local library had on me. I grew up in Springdale, OH., a Cincinnati suburb. The nearest library was in the adjacent city of Forest Park. I remember when I was old enough to sign my name and how thrilled I was, when I discovered that mastery of one's signature was all that was required to be awarded a library card! I still remember that first library card - it was manila yellow in color, and the librarian typed my name and address on the card, then had me sign at the bottom. I treasured that card and revered it, proudly extending it as if it was my personal calling card every time I checked out a book.

I remember that library as though I had set foot in it yesterday. A long, unlit tiled hallway opened into a glorious, well lighted carpeted space, filled throughout with books. Children's books were up three steps, then down another three to the right, in a space filled with beanbag chairs and low shelves for little hands to reach picture books. Walls were decorated with posters of illustrations from children's books, and if we were lucky, we could catch a librarian reading a story out loud to a captive group of wide-eyed children. I spent many happy hours there, and recall repeatedly checking out a book called "The Twelve Dancing Princesses", based on a fairy tale. The story itself was draw enough, but the real attraction was the incredible artwork that filled every page and brought the words and my imagination to life.Recently I found a more recent version of that book at my library, filled with equally lovely illustrations, and read it to Alekha at bedtime a few nights ago - she was enthralled with the story and begged me to read it again, and could I please renew it so she could keep it a little longer?

Fiction for older children was adjacent to this space, and just behind those were non-fiction books, where many a weekend was spent riffling through books on topics from outer space to submarines, farming to foreign countries and occupations to autobiographies, volumes of knowledge to assist me in producing the endless book reports that were assigned by teachers. 

Adult books, reference books and periodicals were located on the opposite side of the library. The entire space was humming with activity: small children were read to by young mothers, older children seated at tables worked diligently on book reports or homework, or in many cases socialized a little too loudly, until they were inevitably shushed by the librarian. Grown ups wandered about the adult sections, little old ladies with bags of knitting perused periodicals, elderly gentlemen spread open newspapers or played at chess. From time to time, there was an installation of modern artwork or perhaps children's art to grace the walls, and the occasional ice cream social or book sale drew the masses. The library offered cool comfort and a respite from the heat of the day in summer, and warmth and welcome to those suffering cabin fever in the winter. All felt a sense of belonging here. The door was not barred regardless of age, race, ethnicity, religion, or socioeconomic standing. Here, the haves and the have-nots converged, brought together by a common interest: the love of reading and community.

In the middle of this hive of activity, the librarians presided over the circular information desk, always kindly, peering at me over spectacles, ready to assist me with the many questions I had. Requests for a book were met with a lesson in how to utilize the card catalog. I was taken to the humble card catalog, predecessor of the modern search engine, where I was taught the Dewey Decimal system for the cataloging of books. I loved pulling open the sturdy oak drawers and riffling through the typed index cards to locate a needed book. Tiny pencil in hand, I'd jot the call number down before heading off in pursuit of the elusive book.

On weekends, we begged for a trip to the library. My mother always happily obliged, turning three little girls loose in the library while she went to seek out books of her own in the adult section. These little trips were much needed, anticipated and enjoyed in the most soul-satisfying way.

Summer was eagerly anticipated each year for the library's summer reading program for children, which the library called Remmus Gnidaer Margorp. Our childish belief that Mr. Remmus Gnidaer Margorp was a generous benefactor and patron of the library subsided when one of us figured out that "Remmus Gnidaer Margorp" was "Summer Reading Program" spelled backwards!) With eager anticipation, we filled up our reading sheets with each book we read, and jubilantly presented it to the librarian at the end of summer to collect our prizes for reading, usually a book bag filled with small assorted goodies, including a bookmark, a certificate of completion, a few stickers and an eraser or pencil, objects of insignificant value but proudly won in the eyes of a child.

I regard these experiences with a mix of nostalgia and fond affection, and attempt to recreate these experiences for my own child. While the library has changed considerably since I was a child, the ideals upon which libraries were founded have not. It is still one place where everyone, regardless of background, can access learning and books. I still feel the anticipation of finding a book I want to read, and am delighted to see the same excitement in my daughter's eyes as we set foot in the library and she runs off to the children's section on her quest for a book (or ten).

Our library boasts a wealth of programming: tea and holiday parties for children, toddler and family story times, musical groups, poetry shares, book clubs, book and bake sales, films, instuction for homework help, annual summer reading programs, the list goes on. Last year our library ended up on the ballot at voting time due to a cut in funding. We saw reductions in programming and in staffing. Through a visible and vocal campaign, our city passed the levy for increased funding to the library, much to my relief and the relief of others who have come to love and support our libraries.

And this is happening not just in our country, but globally as well. Nicky Wire of the Welsh Alternative Rock band Manic Street Preachers stated in an article for the Guardian:

It's hard not to feel utterly despondent at the current plight of public libraries. Along with the NHS and the BBC, our libraries are some of the few truly remarkable British institutions left. So often absolutely ordinary in appearance, a good library should offer escape routes down the most extraordinary avenues, pathways into different worlds from the one you've left outside. Ridding our villages, towns and cities of libraries, which are essential in shaping a nation's consciousness, seems like a direct attack on the soul of the country.

I shudder to think of the day when libraries may close their doors to the public forever and become an antiquated institution of the past. May we never lose these beacons of light and learning. For all who share in "the love of learning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books", I echo Harry McCracken's statement that now, more than ever, libraries need us. It's time for us to give back to these noble institutions, through recognition that by preserving the past, we preserve the future for our children and generations to come.

 

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Libraries, Block argued, aren’t just book-loaning facilities. They’re about also equal opportunity and community, and perhaps they should rebrand themselves as being about access, not books.

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Giving Thanks

(Hand hammered vintage fork from Wooden Hive via Etsy)


So many reasons to be thankful... a dear friend's post on Facebook today reminded me that there is ALWAYS something to be thankful for. And though I am alone this Thanksgiving (Alekha is with her grandparents and her dad in Nashville), I am filled with peace, serenity and gratitude for this life. And I am happy even for this solitude, for in it, I draw closer to God.

So this life hasn't turned out the way I expected or envisioned, but still, it is a life that has not been without blessings. It is a life of my choosing, full of mistakes patched over with regret at times, but I would choose no other life. For every moment has been meaningful, every mistake has been an opportunity to learn, and every decision has brought me to a higher level of understanding and acceptance.

I am grateful for a sound mind, a healthy body, a beautiful child, the love of friends and family, a house to keep me warm, bookshelves overflowing with books I love, food and drink on the table, a fireplace to warm me on chilly nights, a small space of my own to create art, eyes to behold all that is beautiful, and a camera to capture it all. How very grateful I am, when I count my blessings. Happy Thanksgiving to you, dear friends.

 

Thanksgiving Prayer We return thanks to our mother, the earth, which sustains us. We return thanks to the rivers and streams, which supply us with water. We return thanks to all herbs, which furnish medicines for the cure of our diseases. We return thanks to the moon and stars, which have given to us their light when the sun was gone. We return thanks to the sun, that has looked upon the earth with a beneficent eye. Lastly, we return thanks to the Great Spirit, in Whom is embodied all goodness, and Who directs all things for the good of Her children. -Iroquois Prayer, adapted

A letter to my daughter

Dear Alekha,

All mothers are excited about the birth of a baby, but I want you to know that I waited for you for what seemed like an eternity. There were long childless years without you, years when I gazed with a heart full of longing at the chubby, rosy cheeked babies that I encountered everywhere. When you arrived, my heart was filled to bursting. I had always read about the love that happens to a woman after the birth of a child, and had often imagined what it would be like. I was ill-prepared for the onslaught of maternal love and the fierce protectiveness that you brought on. I was prepared to slay dragons for you, and felt that I could singlehandedly decimate anyone who tried to harm you.

Nine years have passed since that blissful first year of your birth, and the feelings have not disappeared, but only gotten stronger. You make me laugh at the things you say, you amaze me with your creativity and intelligence, you humble me with your kind, selfless nature, you overwhelm me with your love, and you make me realize that if I accomplish nothing else in life, it matters little, because you are my greatest work of art.

You used to worry that a younger brother or sister would diminish the love I have for you, and I always assured you that could never happen. I always told you that the miraculous thing about love is this: the more you give away, the more you create. You must have finally learned that lesson, for lately, you've been asking for a little sister and don't understand when I tell you it's unlikely that would happen at this point. You asked me today if I was happy that I only had one child. I hugged you in response and told you that I couldn't be happier with the gifts God has given me. Yes, I am happy to have this one child, and I am happy that child is you.

 

Lessons in Grace, and Audrey

 

Once upon a time, a boy I loved and greatly admired told me that I was lacking in the grace expected of a woman my age. I didn't bother to counter at this undisguised assault on my femininity, (any rebuttal would seem to prove his point, so I remained silent), but it led me to ponder the subject of grace and gracefulness at considerable length.

True, I hadn't studied ballet, dance, or theater. I was no charm school graduate. While other girls my age learned to walk gracefully, balancing books on their heads, I was the one curled up in the armchair, reading those books! I found myself at greatest ease behind the camera, rather than in front of it. I had no cultured accent, nor a worldly view acquired traipsing across Europe on my own, preferred comfort over fashion, sneakers over stilettos. I couldn't tell a salad fork from a dinner fork, and my culinary education consisted entirely of a South Indian vegetarian diet - rice, pulses, lentils, vegetables and the foods that appeal to children - Kraft mac and cheese, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and the like. I knew nothing of the world of caviar, beef bourguignon or French cuisine.

From a purely physical standpoint, I conceded I was lacking grace in spades - particularly in my youth. I was gangly and tall, had an abundance of legs and lacked the appealing petiteness of the young girls that were my friends. My height relegated me to the back riser dominated mostly by boys of my age at a 4th grade choral concert (age 9), where I stood under the intense scrutiny of white hot stage lamps, grew faint, and fell, none too gracefully, from the riser to the wood floor some 3-4 feet below, coming to in a flash of light and pain, much to my embarrassment.

Grace eluded me when, at age 11, I raced down the hilly street across from our home on a yellow Schwinn bicycle with brown pleather handlebars. I didn't give much thought to grace, but the sense of freedom I had when I let go of both handlebars and extended my arms out into a "T" shape was overwhelming and overjoying, and I whooped a cry of joy that was sure to be heard a mile down the street, until the moment just before I reached a waylaid rock, the size of a small melon, at the bottom of the hill. (I hadn't seen the rock but my bicycle decided to engage in battle with the rock -- and the rock won.) I flew off the bike and was unceremoniously (and decidely ungracefully) dumped onto hot asphalt where I amazingly escaped with skinned knees and arms, and a slight concussion. My ego bore the brunt of the wounds. My mother, always cool and collected, came to inspect and ascertain that fractures were absent, and admonished me for my foolhardiness. 

At age 13, I traveled with my family to Orlando where we visited Wet n Wild, which featured a simulated wave pool. Grace, once again was nowhere to be seen, but confidence I had plenty of. I was sure I could ride the crest of the waves with the grace of a dolphin. I swam closer and closer to the deep end - following my elder sister who was a good swimmer. As I approached 8 feet, the waves overtook me and began pulling me under the tow. I panicked and began to drown. My sister nearby attempted to pull me out but I panicked and pulled her under the tow with me. Eventually, lifeguards caught sight of us flailing about in the pool and turned off the wave machine. A rescue team put me on a stretcher and carried me out of the water, in front of what must have been hundreds of people while I blathered, sputtered water and sobbed uncontrollably,  wet, bedraggled, and completely humiliated at the failure of my swimming skills.

At age 15, I joined the Russian Dancers at my local school. I was assured of visions of my own graceful loveliness, whirling around the stage dancing the Troika and the Byelorussian dances that I had admired, in the beautiful peasant blouses and skirts that were the costume of the Russian Dancers. I was once again foiled by my height and asked to dance the male part, (due partly to a lack of high school aged boys willing to be seen whirling girls around a dance floor). The male part proved to be difficult and challenging, but I willingly attempted to learn the parts and danced my heart out. 

At 17, my mother signed me up for Tae Kwon Do lessons, in an attempt to ensure that I would be able to defend myself from the villainous advances of criminals which she was sure abounded at Ohio State, where I was to undertake my college education. Clad in oversized and heavy white cotton pants, along with a matching white jacket tied up with a white belt, I learned a few moves, but was more fascinated with learning the loud, decidedly ungraceful guttural cry that was emitted from the diaphragm in conjunction with these moves. I suppose there were a few who managed to do this and look graceful -- I was not one of them.

But I knew what grace was. Grace was having a sense of serenity and comfort in your own skin. I had seen grace, first in the women who surrounded me - my mother and grandmothers, and later in a young and lovely Audrey Hepburn who exuded grace in a dozen films. It seemed to pour effortlessly from my mother as she glided about in sarees and managed to mother three little girls. And in my grandmothers too, smelling of tea rose perfume and Indian talcum powder, they also undertook the daily delicate rituals of womanhood, yet had the air of women who could domesticate Genghis Khan and the Mongol Horde.

But the greatest lessons of grace I learned were from Audrey. Audrey's name is synonymous with grace. We all love her for the obvious reasons: she was undescribably beautiful and talented. Yes, she had the requisite ballet lessons and acting lessons, and was the daughter of a baroness. She lived through World War II and doubtless had many experiences that shaped the person she became. But what impressed me the most about her was her inner beauty. In every biography that has been written about her, she is praised for how she found common ground with every person who engaged with her; that being around her was akin to feeling like the most important person in the room. Not only was she comfortable in her skin - but what was more important, she knew what real grace was -- how to make others feel comfortable in their skin. It was this in effect that made her so appealing and timelessly beautiful to us. There are a dozen other actresses of her time that rivalled her in beauty, but it is this quality that set her apart from everyone else. In everything I've read about her, every quote attributable to her, I've learned that she had true class, grace and humility:

Humility: "I myself am made entirely of flaws -- stitched together with good intentions".

Class: "People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone".

Grace: "For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone..."

As a woman who has spent years embracing awkwardness, this was a revelation, that grace can exist within, in spite of what you are externally. So much about being a woman has gifted me with grace - most importantly, the ability to love. I'm able to demonstrate that love every day to my child. I am able to embrace what life hands me with quiet acceptance when it is something I cannot change (other people), and the fire to fight when it's something I can (my recent weight loss). I have been told that I was kind to a fault, and that kindness has been mistaken by some for weakness. To that I would say this: "Only a fool mistakes kindness for weakness. There is the heart of a lion within the spirit of a lamb. Grace is selfless strength."

In that sense, I realized that I am graceful like Audrey; graceful, indeed. Outwardly, I appear to be as awkward as the dodo bird, but inside I am 100% swan. And that boy I loved? I think he could use a few lessons in grace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love, Loss and What I Wore....

Can you indulge me for one post while I celebrate my weight loss?? I've done enough talking about love for the past umpteen posts. So now I'll talk about loss, specifically my weight loss! I've lost a whopping 40 pounds since May! I did hit a plateau mid August so started running and now that it's gotten cold, I joined Urban Active and am at the gym five nights a week. I've been mixing up my routine with spinning class twice a week, alternated with weight/resistance training and running on the treadmill for an hour. I also cut out all carbs, (except the occasional low carb tortilla filled with salad) and a few pretzels, and cut out all sugar as well. I've also been having whey protein shakes (I like this brand) which I mix with Tropicana 50 cal. OJ and drink twice daily. 

Also I cut out all soda, sugary drinks and drink only water and herbal teas, and when I am feeling indulgent, a cup of coffee with cream and Splenda. I have ten pounds to go to reach my goal weight. It has been tough but I've been determined and decided I wasn't going to let anything or anyone get in the way of my reaching my goal. 

The best part about the weight loss has been shopping for new clothes, which I wouldn't have been doing if I hadn't given away all the smaller sized clothing I had before the weight loss, literally two weeks before I started losing the weight, sigh!  But after a few trips to Macy's, I must say, I'm not complaining. I've never been much of a clothes horse, but have been re-discovering how creative one can get with clothing - and I really enjoy the collections at Macy's. The color ranges and styles overwhelm me. I was in heaven when I bought a pair of Inc. blue jeans and they fit so beautifully. Buying a pair of jeans that actually fit properly is an experience that every woman should have, once in her life. Once I got past the $69.50 price tag, I realized the tailoring, the fit and the wear I was going to get out of them was worth it. And here is the new me (sorry it's not a full body shot - you'll have to trust that I lost the weight!) I very rarely post pics of myself, so this is a treat for me! Wish me luck - the last 10 pounds is the hardest to lose!