So there I am, stuck in traffic. Not just traffic but horrible traffic. The kind of traffic where four lanes just shrunk down to two. We are on a pretty mean uphill when the car in front of me stops and their hazards begin to flash. I wait for a good 3 or 4 minutes because this car has just turned four lanes into one and they were gonna need help pushing. But they don't get out to push. They just sit in their car waiting (probably knowing that one person can't push this car up this hill alone.) So I pull over and run over.
"Can I help you push?"
I can just imagine them thinking "We need six big truckers, not a tiny little girl with no muscles."
But they took me up on my offer. The guy in the front seat jumps out and we start pushing. The kind of pushing where we are parallel with the ground pushing as hard as we can and we are barely making any ground. One inch at a time. My feet keep slipping, but I keep pushing with all my might. We are nearly stopped even though are muscles are strained and I say "one, two, THREE." And we give the car a real hard push and it rolls about six inches. We try to use the momentum but the hill wins and we are back to just inching along.
We are about to give up when we look up and see SEVEN guys running toward us. They had all pulled over and were coming to help. Thank God. I was so tired. So we just hold our ground waiting for the guys to get to us. One of the guys kindly pats me on the back and says "We got it from here." And with ease the guys push the car to the top.
I stood up, arms and legs jelly, and smiled. I knew I couldn't push that car on my own, but I knew people would join me if I just had the courage to start. It just takes one person to start a movement.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Be Inspired!
I woke up this morning, three days before Easter, many hours before my alarm thinking of all the things I need to accomplish today and pressure from my parents to refinance my house. (It's a perfect time for that.)
When I feel overwhelmed my first reaction is to clean. I don't know why, maybe it's because the order of cleanliness make me feel like things are in control. So, I woke up and the first thing I did (like most mornings) is look at my inspiration wall. It's a mess.
So, I decided to start "cleaning it up". I walked over trying to decide what to take down. And suddenly I realized this board is perfect, just as it is. Here is what I learn from this board.
A picture from Banksy reminds me, "Use your unique voice, your the only who has it."
A picture of kids dancing shows me, "Something average can be absolutely amazing when given the right tools."
A picture of my college alumni newsletters nudges, "Other people are accomplishing great things and you have that inside of you, so go do it!"
My fortune cookie from Thomas inspires me to "Dream loft dreams and as you dream so shall you become."
My favorite Bible verses (Exodus 4:11-12) prompts, "Just go create, God will speak for you."
A program from Jack Gilberts memorial awkens me to, "Do nothing for money, but rather to help advance others and to be happy."
A handmade birthday card from my nephew, "Create like a child allowing yourself to be free to make mistakes and create original work."
From Proverbs 31, "Be an awesome woman."
A card from my birthday scavenger hunt two years ago, "Surround yourself with awesome people and go have adventures."
My list of places to visit, "Never stop dreaming, you never know what is going to happen."
A quote from Return to Me, "You only have struggles because God knows you can handle them and they only make you stronger."
My storyline screenplay cards, "Write."
Some people make inspiration boards because they believe they can will it to be. I don't believe that. I believe that reminding yourself of what is important and what inspires you will make you act. Your dreams will not come true wishing they will happen. They will come true from hard work and dedication. Make an inspiration wall and remember what is important to you everyday.
(It can be cleaner than mine.)
When I feel overwhelmed my first reaction is to clean. I don't know why, maybe it's because the order of cleanliness make me feel like things are in control. So, I woke up and the first thing I did (like most mornings) is look at my inspiration wall. It's a mess.
So, I decided to start "cleaning it up". I walked over trying to decide what to take down. And suddenly I realized this board is perfect, just as it is. Here is what I learn from this board.
A picture from Banksy reminds me, "Use your unique voice, your the only who has it."
A picture of kids dancing shows me, "Something average can be absolutely amazing when given the right tools."
A picture of my college alumni newsletters nudges, "Other people are accomplishing great things and you have that inside of you, so go do it!"
My fortune cookie from Thomas inspires me to "Dream loft dreams and as you dream so shall you become."
My favorite Bible verses (Exodus 4:11-12) prompts, "Just go create, God will speak for you."
A program from Jack Gilberts memorial awkens me to, "Do nothing for money, but rather to help advance others and to be happy."
A handmade birthday card from my nephew, "Create like a child allowing yourself to be free to make mistakes and create original work."
From Proverbs 31, "Be an awesome woman."
A card from my birthday scavenger hunt two years ago, "Surround yourself with awesome people and go have adventures."
My list of places to visit, "Never stop dreaming, you never know what is going to happen."
A quote from Return to Me, "You only have struggles because God knows you can handle them and they only make you stronger."
My storyline screenplay cards, "Write."
Some people make inspiration boards because they believe they can will it to be. I don't believe that. I believe that reminding yourself of what is important and what inspires you will make you act. Your dreams will not come true wishing they will happen. They will come true from hard work and dedication. Make an inspiration wall and remember what is important to you everyday.
(It can be cleaner than mine.)
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Just Cuz It's Funny.
So, I now work at American Airlines. People ask me what I do and I usually say "I'm the bouncer for the VIP lounge for American Airlines at LAX." This really is the best description because I just sit at the door and decide who comes in and who doesn't. That's all I do. All day.
Obviously, because we are the VIP lounge in LA, I refer to my job as the famous person parade. Every day multiple famous people come through. Luckily, in my life I have had multiple jobs where I deal with famous people so it doesn't really phase me.
Of course, regular people come into the lounge, too. Every now and then I see people I know. A few friends from Disney have come through. My brother comes through every now and then with guys he works with. One day, a guy from my church came in. Here's how the conversation went:
Liz (excited to see a friend): Hey! How's it going?
Church Guy (a little taken back by my friendliness): Good.
I realize he doesn't recognize me because I cut off my hair, so I say:
Liz: I cut off my hair.
Church Guy (confused): Great.
Now I'm getting embarrassed that he clearly doesn't remember me, so trying to help him out I say:
Liz (reminding him): It used to be brown and real long.
Church Guy (with a little smile): Yah, my hair used to be a little longer too.
With his smile and imagining him with longer hair I realize that he doesn't go to my church, he is Tag - Rachel's boyfriend from Friends - or some of you may know him from CSI: NY. Eddie Cahill.
Oh man, with this realization, I re-live the conversation... Weird girl says hi really too friendly, randomly mentions she cut off her hair, gives a description of previous hair and is now staring at him terrified....
Now, I'm just trying to get rid of him as fast as possible. So I quickly go through the things I'm required to say and then look down at my keyboard until he leaves, playing with my nails, straightening my desk, moving around pens for no reason. And it take him FOREVER to leave because he has to put stuff back in his wallet and pack up his bag and get his jacket on his arm and put his backpack on his back and pick up his phone and wallet off the counter. Finally, he's all organized and I look up embarrassed to say one more friendly goodbye. And with such kindness and grace he says, "Thanks, I like the hair."
Note to self: Assume people at LAX are actors not friends.
Obviously, because we are the VIP lounge in LA, I refer to my job as the famous person parade. Every day multiple famous people come through. Luckily, in my life I have had multiple jobs where I deal with famous people so it doesn't really phase me.
Of course, regular people come into the lounge, too. Every now and then I see people I know. A few friends from Disney have come through. My brother comes through every now and then with guys he works with. One day, a guy from my church came in. Here's how the conversation went:
Liz (excited to see a friend): Hey! How's it going?
Church Guy (a little taken back by my friendliness): Good.
I realize he doesn't recognize me because I cut off my hair, so I say:
Liz: I cut off my hair.
Church Guy (confused): Great.
Now I'm getting embarrassed that he clearly doesn't remember me, so trying to help him out I say:
Liz (reminding him): It used to be brown and real long.
Church Guy (with a little smile): Yah, my hair used to be a little longer too.
With his smile and imagining him with longer hair I realize that he doesn't go to my church, he is Tag - Rachel's boyfriend from Friends - or some of you may know him from CSI: NY. Eddie Cahill.
Oh man, with this realization, I re-live the conversation... Weird girl says hi really too friendly, randomly mentions she cut off her hair, gives a description of previous hair and is now staring at him terrified....
Now, I'm just trying to get rid of him as fast as possible. So I quickly go through the things I'm required to say and then look down at my keyboard until he leaves, playing with my nails, straightening my desk, moving around pens for no reason. And it take him FOREVER to leave because he has to put stuff back in his wallet and pack up his bag and get his jacket on his arm and put his backpack on his back and pick up his phone and wallet off the counter. Finally, he's all organized and I look up embarrassed to say one more friendly goodbye. And with such kindness and grace he says, "Thanks, I like the hair."
Note to self: Assume people at LAX are actors not friends.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
An 18 year old mystery. Solved.
The other day, I was sitting on the shuttle that takes me from my car to LAX and back. (I work for American Airlines now.) The shuttles we ride have seats like on subways, where we awkwardly face each other and we look around as to not be looking directly at each other. Commonly, we are all on our phones scrolling through Facebook.
This particular day, my phone had run out of battery. It had been a very long day and I'm sure I was more tired than my phone, but I didn't have the option of shutting down. I love riding the shuttle because we drive down the runway right next to planes taking off. I like to pretend I'm the villain in an action movie, who just can't quite catch up to the good guy escaping into the sky. I smile often when this happens. I'm sure the people around me wonder why I'm smiling.
Anyway, because my phone had died, I started thinking about this crazy life I lead and how I have done so many weird things. One of the first things that came to mind was when I toured with this ridiculously cheesy Christian singing group. Oh, it was bad. We would actually say "The bigger the hair the closer to God." Horrible. But one thing was true, it was one of the first times I danced outside of my small town. I got to tour internationally; singing and dancing.
I was fresh out of high school and sent to Colorado for training. I will never forget sitting there in the Denver airport on my one allowed suitcase and hugging my pillow just praying someone would find me. In Colorado about 350 people came together to learn music and choreography and then we were split into ten different groups and sent all over the world. Every group had a dance soloist. I was the dance soloist for my group.
At the end of the tours, we all came back together for one huge concert; 350 singers, audience of a couple thousand. Trying to get all the choirs to work together was difficult, but the worst was trying to get the dance soloists to match. We had all slightly changed our dances to fit us best and through out the tour they had become very different. Thus, when we all danced together, we looked like a hot mess.
The choreographer came up and said that he was just going to pick one girl and that girl was... me.
I almost died of fright. I felt so very small. This little tiny girl, from this tiny town, in front of a choir of 350. I just knew I would just be swallowed up by the size of the stage in this huge venue.
Back in the shuttle, 18 years later, I starred into space wondering why that choreographer ever chose me. I definitely had the least experience. I definitely was from the smallest town on earth. And then for no reason at all, I remembered...
About a year before that scary moment, I had auditioned for him to do this job. I had forced myself through a hip hop routine that didn't look great on me, but I was determined to try. It was time for the final round. It was me and four amazing girls, what was I doing here? The music turns on, I adjust my hair and pull at my shirt. Do I look ok?
I count myself in... 5,6,7 and everyone starts. Well, the truth is the girl who had the most confidence starts on 8 and everyone follows her.
Except me.
I knew we were supposed to start on 1. I was starting on 1. The entire routine, I was exactly 1 count behind everyone. It was really hard; to stay focused, to stay on beat, to not let the movement of the girls make me rush, and to not let the stares of the people watching scare me. I could see that everyone thought I was wrong. The choreographer had his eyes plastered on me. He had to know I was right, right?
The routine got done. There was a small polite awkward applause and the confident girl walks by me, "What were you doing?" To be honest, I had no idea. Maybe I should have danced with everyone, but as the choreographer left the room, he walked by me and without even stopping, he nodded and said "Well done."
And that is when I got the solo. An entire year earlier, I had held my ground. I refused to conform. I proved that I was more than a small town dancer.
As I rode in the shuttle, I sat back into my seat. An 18 year old mystery had been solved. What a crazy realization. As I watched the beautiful sunset, I smiled remembering how I danced that night with all of my heart. Filling that huge stage with the joy I feel when I dance.
And then a thought came to me. Would I have thought about any of this if I had been scrolling on my Facebook? Probably not and I most definitely would have missed that sunset. So, every time I ride the shuttle, I leave my phone in my pocket and let my mind wander. I don't often get answers to 18 year old mysteries but it is fun to just have a half an hour a day to sit and ponder.
This particular day, my phone had run out of battery. It had been a very long day and I'm sure I was more tired than my phone, but I didn't have the option of shutting down. I love riding the shuttle because we drive down the runway right next to planes taking off. I like to pretend I'm the villain in an action movie, who just can't quite catch up to the good guy escaping into the sky. I smile often when this happens. I'm sure the people around me wonder why I'm smiling.
Anyway, because my phone had died, I started thinking about this crazy life I lead and how I have done so many weird things. One of the first things that came to mind was when I toured with this ridiculously cheesy Christian singing group. Oh, it was bad. We would actually say "The bigger the hair the closer to God." Horrible. But one thing was true, it was one of the first times I danced outside of my small town. I got to tour internationally; singing and dancing.
I was fresh out of high school and sent to Colorado for training. I will never forget sitting there in the Denver airport on my one allowed suitcase and hugging my pillow just praying someone would find me. In Colorado about 350 people came together to learn music and choreography and then we were split into ten different groups and sent all over the world. Every group had a dance soloist. I was the dance soloist for my group.
At the end of the tours, we all came back together for one huge concert; 350 singers, audience of a couple thousand. Trying to get all the choirs to work together was difficult, but the worst was trying to get the dance soloists to match. We had all slightly changed our dances to fit us best and through out the tour they had become very different. Thus, when we all danced together, we looked like a hot mess.
The choreographer came up and said that he was just going to pick one girl and that girl was... me.
I almost died of fright. I felt so very small. This little tiny girl, from this tiny town, in front of a choir of 350. I just knew I would just be swallowed up by the size of the stage in this huge venue.
Back in the shuttle, 18 years later, I starred into space wondering why that choreographer ever chose me. I definitely had the least experience. I definitely was from the smallest town on earth. And then for no reason at all, I remembered...
About a year before that scary moment, I had auditioned for him to do this job. I had forced myself through a hip hop routine that didn't look great on me, but I was determined to try. It was time for the final round. It was me and four amazing girls, what was I doing here? The music turns on, I adjust my hair and pull at my shirt. Do I look ok?
I count myself in... 5,6,7 and everyone starts. Well, the truth is the girl who had the most confidence starts on 8 and everyone follows her.
Except me.
I knew we were supposed to start on 1. I was starting on 1. The entire routine, I was exactly 1 count behind everyone. It was really hard; to stay focused, to stay on beat, to not let the movement of the girls make me rush, and to not let the stares of the people watching scare me. I could see that everyone thought I was wrong. The choreographer had his eyes plastered on me. He had to know I was right, right?
The routine got done. There was a small polite awkward applause and the confident girl walks by me, "What were you doing?" To be honest, I had no idea. Maybe I should have danced with everyone, but as the choreographer left the room, he walked by me and without even stopping, he nodded and said "Well done."
And that is when I got the solo. An entire year earlier, I had held my ground. I refused to conform. I proved that I was more than a small town dancer.
As I rode in the shuttle, I sat back into my seat. An 18 year old mystery had been solved. What a crazy realization. As I watched the beautiful sunset, I smiled remembering how I danced that night with all of my heart. Filling that huge stage with the joy I feel when I dance.
And then a thought came to me. Would I have thought about any of this if I had been scrolling on my Facebook? Probably not and I most definitely would have missed that sunset. So, every time I ride the shuttle, I leave my phone in my pocket and let my mind wander. I don't often get answers to 18 year old mysteries but it is fun to just have a half an hour a day to sit and ponder.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Maybe when you have nothing, you have everything.
This morning I went to a memorial service for my teacher and friend, Jack Gilbert. I find myself sitting here contemplating it and I'm changed.
Why do I want to do the things I want to do? What motivates me?
Am I selfish for wanting to write a book? Am I selfish for wanting to choreograph? Or is this what I was created for?
I live in one of the richest places in the world... Well, it's not really rich, it just appears that way. I bet most people here are in huge debt. And those who have money don't have what really makes one rich... Joy, contentment, satisfaction, Christ.
I was starting to get sucked into this world. I wanted to write a successful book so that I could buy the house that I actually wanted and I could buy a car that doesn't have duct tape holding it together, literally.
Why? Why would I want that? Would that make me more valuable? Would that give my life more worth?
I remember sitting on Jack's couch and being as comfortable as I ever was. It was old. It was used. It was perfect.
Jack died single, living in a small apartment with old furniture. He had one fleece vest, one sport coat, and one old car. And yet, I would choose to be him over any rich person on the planet. Because he did things that changed the world. Literally. Without getting any credit for it. And he had a heart that I yearn to have.
Jack wasn't a great friend but he once said three sentences that changed the way I viewed myself, my talent, and the world around me.
I have a feeling that many people have been changed by Jack. He changed us by being patient and humble and kind. I hope these are words that are used when I die.
Why do I want to do the things I want to do? What motivates me?
Am I selfish for wanting to write a book? Am I selfish for wanting to choreograph? Or is this what I was created for?
I live in one of the richest places in the world... Well, it's not really rich, it just appears that way. I bet most people here are in huge debt. And those who have money don't have what really makes one rich... Joy, contentment, satisfaction, Christ.
I was starting to get sucked into this world. I wanted to write a successful book so that I could buy the house that I actually wanted and I could buy a car that doesn't have duct tape holding it together, literally.
Why? Why would I want that? Would that make me more valuable? Would that give my life more worth?
I remember sitting on Jack's couch and being as comfortable as I ever was. It was old. It was used. It was perfect.
Jack died single, living in a small apartment with old furniture. He had one fleece vest, one sport coat, and one old car. And yet, I would choose to be him over any rich person on the planet. Because he did things that changed the world. Literally. Without getting any credit for it. And he had a heart that I yearn to have.
Jack wasn't a great friend but he once said three sentences that changed the way I viewed myself, my talent, and the world around me.
I have a feeling that many people have been changed by Jack. He changed us by being patient and humble and kind. I hope these are words that are used when I die.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Why don't I have a boyfriend?
Why am I single?
I don't know.
Everyone has their theories.
I'm intimidating. I'm too good for this guy or that guy. I'm too busy. I'm too picky.
And.
Everyone loves to put their two cents in. My dad used to make me feel bad about it all the time and then tell me not take it so seriously.
Old guys and married guys love to tell me how confusing it is because I'm so great.
That doesn't help.
To be totally honest, always being single is hard on the soul. You doubt your worth. When people say things like "Why is that guy 30 and single? There must be something wrong with him", you secretly think that about yourself. Maybe you could have a boyfriend if your nose was smaller or your voice wasn't so high pitched...
But on most days I do know my value. So, I've decided I need How to Get a Boyfriend lessons. I mean there are dancing lessons and singing lessons. You can learn how to draw and how to balance a budget. Why aren't there classes on how to get a boyfriend?
But here's the real problem. If those classes really existed, would I go?
I have always wanted a boyfriend. I always thought it was the perfect time, but if I had found the perfect guy at 20 and gotten married at 23 (like I dreamed), would I have toured with a rock band? Would I have lived in Germany? Would I have been in the Lybian desert watching a total eclipse of the sun on my 30th birthday? Would I have been the Ambassador of Disneyland? And would I be seriously contemplating pursuing a career as a choreographer right now if I had children to raise?
Don't get me wrong. If I met a great guy who wants to be adventurous with me, I would love that. I'm just saying that the big guy upstairs seems to know something I don't know. Maybe the best of my life is yet to come and it can only happen if I'm single. Maybe my guy just isn't ready yet. Maybe I still have things to learn in order to be a great partner to him. Maybe I will always be single...
All I know is that, God has gotten me this far. And it's been pretty amazingly fantastic. So, I will continue to hold onto the fact that I am perfectly and wonderfully made (even with my German nose), that God knows the plans he has for me and I will continue to wait, impatiently at times, and see what comes around the bend...
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