when the shoe fits

Brrng! The cash register rang up the perfect size five white shoes as they were thrown into the bag as if shoes were as worthless as a bag of rocks.

This would be the first time that Rachel would bring home a pair of shoes for her daughter, Lizzie. She picked these white shoes over the pink ones with the little bow. Rachel wanted something meaningful... symbolic. The beginning of the new day, the beginning of forever. As white as a blank piece of paper.

Rachel brought that bag to the car and started her drive home. She wouldn't be like the other moms. She would treasure each scrap and scratch those shoes brought. She would probably kiss the floor they walked along. If they are ever used... a little voice said in the back of her mind.

Elizabeth has been diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy and Elizabeth, or Lizzie as her mother calls her, may never walk. But Rachel wants to motivate her and to be honest, probably motivate herself some more... maybe she will beat the odds, maybe she will find a way to get around and maybe those perfect white shoes will know the feel of dirt beneath their soles.

When Rachel turned into their drive, she stopped her car and brought that bag into the house as if bringing a possible trophy... wrapped in a possible disaster. How could she explain to Phil why she went through all this trouble?

How were shoes going to help them take on the days ahead of them? How was she going to be a good mom despite what Lizzie is going through? Phil wouldn't understand. We barely have enough money to pay the rent, why waste money on a pair of shoes Lizzie will never wear?! He would argue.

But every little girl, needed a chance at a fairy tale. and those little white sneakers sat there waiting to be placed on this Cinderella's feet and walk her way into the ball.

They may have to wait in their pristine condition up on the shelf looking at the curly little brunette until one day, they were needed.

One day she must walk, Rachel thought. But each day that passed she seemed less sure of herself. Her gorgeous 2 year old wasn't even crawling. She had no desire to move and the wheelchair. Gosh, did she fight the wheelchair. It all just seems so.. confiding... so encompassing... so final.

One afternoon, Lizzie was watching The Little Mermaid when she mumbled something to Rachel. Rachel noticed Lizzie's weary smile and decided that was enough of that. Rachel looked at Lizzie and asked her if she wanted to play dress up. Rachel got out the Cinderella dress, and crown and even the perfect white shoes for Lizzie to wear. Lizzie looked gorgeous. Rachel even let Lizzie wear some of her make up to complete the show.

Then, Rachel dressed up a teddy bear to look like a prince and invited Lizzie to dance. At first, she swung the bear around in her chair. She moved her hands and watched him fly as she moved her head back and forth. But eventually she put the bear down and used her arms to lift off the wheelchair. She stood holding onto the table and yet again lifted that prince to the air. She held him close and swayed gently, just enough to feel like dancing.

Even if those shoes didn't meet dirt, they did touch the ground and at midnight, or a few minutes later in this story, Lizzie got back in her chair and back to the life she was burdened with.

But at least once, she got to dance and at least once she was a part of our world...

As Rachel went to bed that night, a tear fell slowly down her cheek. Lizzie may never have the chance to walk, but at least, her daughter knew what she was missing out on, and discovering ways to experience it... in her own Princess style. 

The Life of Words

It is interesting how we can sit and spend countless time looking at words that mean nothing. We spend time all over the internet scouring for answers that have no affect on our lives.

Yet words, true words, emotional, pivotal, powerful words are around us waiting to be unlocked, waiting to give way to broadening our own horizons more than 180 characters can give us and the "kbyes" of the world share.

We have the opportunity, thanks to the internet, to share meanings and emotions, thoughts and theories, a connectedness and longing. We have the opportunity to use those words to better our world.

For the life of words were meant to exist to help us all learn the lessons we are meant to learn. Whether they are their to share our sorrows, open up about our concepts of the future, or marvel about the miracles of the cosmos. Those words are around to answer the questions we need answered, sometimes without us even knowing it. 

Yet so many of us, myself included sometimes, in fact more times than I would like to admit, sit idol and foolishly look after words that share no meaning, reading articles that tell us nothing, looking at news that solves nothing, and sharing in foolish small talk that gives no more consideration to the world around us than garbage mounds better our environment. 

Words are meant to be shared to get to know one another. Not just the "how are you's" and the "we should get together soon's" but the act of melding minds and connecting souls, the ability to search deeper into the subconscious, farther into the realm of possibility and give hope for the future that without those words, we would never get to. 

Chatter keeps you on even ground. It keeps you right where all those zombies you see in your day to day life are. There is no where to go but to look around and wave hello. But when you dive deeper, look harder, question more, you have the chance to teach yourself how to soar. God gave us words and it's our job to put wings on them.

It is our job to watch as they become something bigger than ourselves, mold us together and find a way to impact each of us in the best possible way. Yet often times, they are used as slander and nothingness... making them so much less than what they could be. Taking the wings and ripping a feather off at a time. Instead of bringing us together and making us stronger, we are using those words as a weapon and making the life of those words meaningless. 

The Frozen Tin Man

I haven't written in ages. I fell like the Tin Man, in the beginning of the Wizard of Oz. I am frozen in time, with a job that so long ago I was meant to carry out but the stress of life acted like rain and froze my body in the middle of great achievement and I became nothing but a has-been, an old relic and nothing of my former self.

The aches and pains of trying to reconnect with what I was once so good at, groan with an audible sound. The ideas no longer sputter to life at the touch of a thought and the joints that once exploded with visualizations lost in time lay fast asleep not knowing how to do what they do best, not knowing how to be told... not knowing how to come to life.

Yet this Tin Man can rebuild. It will take effort, hours, tears and constant learning but it can be done. Eventually those pieces of myself will move again. Eventually I can walk in the world of letters and words, I will be able to tear down trees full of information and dissect them into stories of great wonder and awe. I will one day retouch the realm of everything... this interconnectedness with the world around me, where words come to me without conscious thought and ideas are just meant to be born and misconceptions meant to be torn down with my axe.

I may need an oil can of new ideas. I may need scraps of paper thrown into the fire as my writing groans with uneasiness from so long of not using it. But eventually those moans will turn into whimpers and eventually those too can fade. 

Blue Man Group

Boom! The audience awoke with a jolt
As if the room was a game, someone hit "Go!"
The beat and the bang of the stick on the
crumpled can was like a heartbeat that moved
through the blackened building.

The seats pounded with anticipation
The people held their breath
The walls seemed to dive
The floor seemed to sway and all of a sudden
the stage lit up with color.

Blue went the pitter patter of the tin can
Orange went the clip-clop of the base
Green went the ping of the chimes
The music became color in front of our eyes.

Blue filled the floor as it jumped to the beat
Orange went the walls as they danced.
Green went the seats as they came to life and
The people stayed dark to take in the sight.

Boom! Went the blue and turned back to black
Clip! Went the orange as it returned to night
Pong! Went the green as it darkened.
The music stopped as the color died.

The TinMan still works

i've dealt with so much stress for so long that i am looking for an outlet

and i need to fight to give myself one

i can't live in this sink or swim attitude. i need to be. i need to live. i need to appreciate the parts of life that don't concern themselves with tomorrows and don't boggle down about the past.

it is incredible if i just open myself up to being creative how much just seeps out when i am not thinking about it

but i have squished that part of myself for so long its like oiling up the Tinman. It is going to take some time for the joints to work properly and the squeaks to go away.

But this is more important than Dorothy finding the yellow brick road. It is about how I need to and that the only Wizard of Oz is trapped inside my mind struggling to get out of the dungeon he has been trapped in.

In Love with Nature

I see the trees swaying.

Their leaves blowing in the wind,

On branches big and beautiful.

As if waving a hello and telling me never to leave.

I see a blue sky,

pictures in the clouds

floating all around.

getting lost in warm

bath of sunshine.

I see the birds

They fly all around

Singing their sweet, cheerful song

that I know is meant just for me.

I see the grass

long and soft.

so tempting to

fall into its arms.

I feel the wind blowing.

as if playing a gentle game of

tug-a-war

with my hair.

The love of nature is consuming

if you just walk through the door.

City of Chaos

Glass shattered and

sirens ignite the air

into the darkness you

find flames engulf the world

that extinguish happiness

while combusting in fear

The screeching of tires becomes

the music of the night and the

car crashes battle for the senseless fight

Gun fire and lead the only savior you know

Yet as dawn arrives, there is no end in sight

the broken become reckless,

the brave become cowards

of the darkness and continue the

momentum of chaos.

For no one can save the city from itself.