With Open Arms and an Open Heart, Thank You.

I have manners, I do. My parents being of the very socially conscious mindset spent hours teaching me which fork to use, where to stash my napkin, what a good hand shake feels like and most of all, to say "Thank you" when it is deemed appropriate. I am nothing short of a trained poodle, when social occasions arise, no offense, Mom. I have met very important people, self important people and folks like me who I find fascinating, but maybe do not have as much street cred as the previous groups. I can sit a very fancy restaurant and use all the utensils correctly. Yeah, that's right, you heard it, I said it, all of them! I can be at a professional dinner party and keep my elbows off the table the entire duration. I ain't no hooker, Yo, from "Pretty Woman", I know what escargot is and have eaten it without event. I will confess, though, that when I am at a dinner party of close, valuable friends, I tend to lean in on my elbows completely locked and loaded in the conversation. It is my state of engagement, my leaning my face on my folded hands. Albeit somewhat impolite, it means I am riveted by you and want to be as close as possible to your voice. I was a debutante. Ha! bet you never saw that one coming, did you? Well, smarty pants, I was, and I did not embarrass my parents or myself even once the entire evening. I did embarrass my mom briefly at a rehearsal with my dad, but he started it. After the face melting glare of her angry eyes, we both decided it was best if we went back to playing it straight. I will tell you, I felt slightly uncomfortable in those circumstances with all the hoopla, the rigamarole, and such. I was a senior in high school, very active in my school in the dorkiest groups that ever existed. I was a band geek, a choir nerd, in the musicals, etc. Not exactly a popularity power play. But I did it for the love the work that was involved. I would gladly do it the exact same way if I got the chance. My activities were all about the work, much like sports. Unlike sports, no one was going to vote us Homecoming Queen or King. This white gowned, polite, super conservative, waltzing show of prestige, well, I am sure by now you can see where I might have struggled. I just showed up with a gown my mom made which I will tell you was rocking hot, and did my own thing, dancing into the night with my very best friend. I love those pictures. My mom got her dream of her little grungy daughter dressing up to the nines, wearing white, dancing with her father, not belching in public, and I got to be me, only cleaner, wearing make up, with my hair done. Jim, my best friend since I was 9 years old, and I danced to every song until we nearly fell over. Looking back I can't imagine taking anyone else. It was one of those epic nights in my memory, where manners were of the utmost importance. I had accomplished what would have been akin to a game winning touchdown for my parents. "Look, Ma, no hands, no feet, no bad manners." The pictures of the a fore mentioned debutante ball is my proof that yes, since a young age, I have manners. I noticed something about myself when I was performing this past fall in the play. During rehearsals, our director would shoot out where she wanted us, how she wanted us and when we did good, she was the first person to compliment us. During this I took in her compliments and used them as fuel to try and get where she needed me to go. I never thought, "Oh look how good I am." I just thought, "Oh thank God I didn't screw that up." I have so much respect for this director. I love her. She has been honing her theater craft for decades and it shows. Any thoughts or questions I had she knew the exact thing to tell me. Being a complete novice, I had no idea how to do theater without singing my way through it. I had never done a play before. Never once did my dear director give up on me, not during pneumonia, not during my confusion about the blocking, never. She merely guided me with her words to help me through the rough patches. Which for the students who were experienced, yeah, well, I am sorry for all that. My point here is, I took in her compliments, but when it came to our performances and others saying nice things to me, I muttered "Thank you for coming" and stared at my feet. I am the world's worst compliment taker/acceptor, bar none. There I was receiving the most genuine, heart felt, kind words I had ever received and for the life of me I could not take it in. This wasn't about ego, it was about neurosis, ya know, the thing I am trying to get rid of this year? I stood as people said the nicest things I have ever heard, whether they felt like they had to or just did it anyway is irrelevant, it was the fact that I got so embarrassed, I could not look them in the face. That just ain't right. I am proud that I did not do my "go to" move of trying to convince people how wrong they were and list every mistake I made. I used to spend so much time convincing people why their compliment was way off base. I believe the word for that is "asshole". I was being a complete asshole. Here, I had people trying to encourage me with words from the heart and I was going out of my way to show them how wrong they were. O.K., so since I am older I stopped being such an asshole. I did not have one singular asshole moment in the receiving lines after our performances. That is progress, in it's own right, but I think I am still too far away from where I should be. Performing for me has nothing to do with ego. It is the act, the performance the opportunity, the immediate response in the moment that thrills me. It is, and always has been about the work. I have never performed a perfect show, ever! In all the years and all the performances, whether singing, playing, acting or doing stand-up, at no point did I walk off the stage and think, "Good enough!" That is what I mean by I have no ego in performing. Well, that and I always worry at some point I will just fall apart and pee my pants. I have worried about that since I was 9 years old, doing a talent show with my sister. This year, I would like to spend more time taking in the good stuff that people say. I do not want to be taken in by compliments, but to absorb the kindness of others without making them regret it. Having manners, I say "Thank you", but what I thinking is "Oh God please make them stop. This is embarrassing and if they had any idea, they would never even acknowledge me." It is in my body language, my down cast eyes, my inability to be grateful for any talent or God given gifts I possess. It shows in my self deprecating humor, where I constantly make fun of me, which I will not be giving up because some of it is pretty darn funny. It shows in my lack of confidence when I have a run in with another asshole who is out to say or do destructive things. Now, that big ball crap I internalize. I mentioned "Pretty Woman" and the one line I love and will repeat myself with, so bear with me is, "Why is it, the bad stuff is easier to believe." That line hit me like a truck. I hear and talk with women and men who have had incredible compliments thrown their way, but the bad stuff is what sticks. This year is about making the compliments stick like tar. It's about helping others hear the compliments they get, too. It amazes me when the most talented people, or incredibly smart, funny, compassionate women around me can not take in compliments, even after having worked so hard to receive them. This year when someone says I look nice, I plan to look them square inn the eye and say, "Thank you", and mean it. I have always felt they were too kind, but now I want to believe they are being just kind enough. When someone takes the time to say something nice to me about something I have done well, I want to absorb it, swallow it whole and let it fill me instead of dismissing it as if they have had a mental break down and need to seek professional help. I do not want to do this to feed my own ego, but rather to honor their words and feelings. I also want to honor my beautiful brain, and this body of mine that kept me going all these years. So, here's to you and your resolutions or journey for the year. You look fabulous, by the way. I just thought you should know.