Post-Storm Realizations or Obrigada, Brazil
The shroud of this summer thunderstorm finally lifted off Washington, revealing a glowing, golden day. It pours in through my skylights, and turns my blue bedroom into a quiet morning beach, inviting me to come play in the ocean. I jump out of bed and put on my bathing suit, and pack myself up for a day out at Tryst café. Best to get myself out early before I get caught in the compelling fantasies of my Park Road abode.
The sidewalks are bustling with life, like a curfew was just lifted. Smiling runners with spring in the step; minivans of contractors unloading themselves, happily busy again; dogwalkers being tugged by packs of desperate dogs. I pass communities of mushrooms that have sprouted up over night, and piles of shrapnel, tree limbs and debris left by nature’s war. Little after-showers rain down on me, from the waterlogged canopy above. I’m pretty happy to be alive.
As I’m bouncing along in my tevas, I recall last night’s CBODN (Chesapeake Bay Organizational Development Network) meeting, and our discussion on an ‘Appreciative Stance in OD Consulting.’ After 2 hours of sharing and presentation, the bottom line message, from Don Klein, a guru of the field, was this: Don’t take yourself too seriously. I liked it. I still do. It was worth my $55 fee, and I got a Quizos sub and oatmeal cookie too. But like all good advice, it’s so simple, it’s impossible. He says the less serious you are, the more vulnerable you are, and the less you have to work to preserve your ‘scrim.’ He used that word, and described it as a set in the theatre, a façade, imaginary scenery that changes depending on how the lights shine. So if it’s imaginary, why bother trying to preserve it?
It all made sense to me. I know I have been one to take myself too seriously in the past. Look at these credentials: SeeChange president, homeowner, investor, first-born protector of the family, responsible citizen, informed liberal, caring friend and lover, always vigilant mountain lion. (That’s how my life coach characterized me during my sessions with her last year, and I hate to admit she was right on.)
But I feel a little different now. Yes, I’m still paying my mortgage, and cleaning my gutters, calling my mom to check-in, and keeping up with the geo-political state of affairs, taking classes, meditating, and always improving myself. But something’s different after Brazil. So I started thinking, after last night's sub and discussion. Maybe Brazil destroyed my scrim – put my white Anglo ass out in the searing tropical sun and burned me. Exposed my most basic self – the girl without words, without family and friends close by, without a job, without a routine, without walls, without a palm pilot, without George Bush to yell at or anyone to hear me. But I still had something left – me. Wide-eyed, curious, caring, diligent, loving, and even hopeful, underneath the well-formed layer of angst. I’m still me; but I’m not trying so hard to be me anymore. Ahhh.
Obrigada, Brasil!
The sidewalks are bustling with life, like a curfew was just lifted. Smiling runners with spring in the step; minivans of contractors unloading themselves, happily busy again; dogwalkers being tugged by packs of desperate dogs. I pass communities of mushrooms that have sprouted up over night, and piles of shrapnel, tree limbs and debris left by nature’s war. Little after-showers rain down on me, from the waterlogged canopy above. I’m pretty happy to be alive.
As I’m bouncing along in my tevas, I recall last night’s CBODN (Chesapeake Bay Organizational Development Network) meeting, and our discussion on an ‘Appreciative Stance in OD Consulting.’ After 2 hours of sharing and presentation, the bottom line message, from Don Klein, a guru of the field, was this: Don’t take yourself too seriously. I liked it. I still do. It was worth my $55 fee, and I got a Quizos sub and oatmeal cookie too. But like all good advice, it’s so simple, it’s impossible. He says the less serious you are, the more vulnerable you are, and the less you have to work to preserve your ‘scrim.’ He used that word, and described it as a set in the theatre, a façade, imaginary scenery that changes depending on how the lights shine. So if it’s imaginary, why bother trying to preserve it?
It all made sense to me. I know I have been one to take myself too seriously in the past. Look at these credentials: SeeChange president, homeowner, investor, first-born protector of the family, responsible citizen, informed liberal, caring friend and lover, always vigilant mountain lion. (That’s how my life coach characterized me during my sessions with her last year, and I hate to admit she was right on.)
But I feel a little different now. Yes, I’m still paying my mortgage, and cleaning my gutters, calling my mom to check-in, and keeping up with the geo-political state of affairs, taking classes, meditating, and always improving myself. But something’s different after Brazil. So I started thinking, after last night's sub and discussion. Maybe Brazil destroyed my scrim – put my white Anglo ass out in the searing tropical sun and burned me. Exposed my most basic self – the girl without words, without family and friends close by, without a job, without a routine, without walls, without a palm pilot, without George Bush to yell at or anyone to hear me. But I still had something left – me. Wide-eyed, curious, caring, diligent, loving, and even hopeful, underneath the well-formed layer of angst. I’m still me; but I’m not trying so hard to be me anymore. Ahhh.
Obrigada, Brasil!
posted by Anneseye at
5:31 PM
2 Comments:
Anne
"keeping up with the geo-political state of affairs", its a amazing phrase!
The Brazil says (in special me: Thanks a lot for Mrs Rosemary put you in world.
Great text
Kiss
Cris
By
Cristovam Tadeu - Humorista, at 7:18 PM
Keeping up one's "scrim": all identities, like all memories, are fictional. The ones that are "seared into the memory" are the ones that are, ironically, most fictional. This odd reality is a demonstrable and proven matter (psychologists are hired every day to debunk eyewitness testimony in the courtroom). I offer this insight to beginning writers all the time, who are often so strongly committed to writing down The Truth of their lives, not realizing that such Truths are in fact fictions. Understanding that reality that makes the release from holding up the scrim easier, and life becomes more adventurous.
Greg D.
By
Anonymous, at 1:14 PM
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