unfold your own myth....

"Do not be satisfied with the stories that come before you. 

Unfold your own myth."

Rumi

It is true....or TRUE! as Honey Boo Boo would say.

  I stand and watch it all the time.  Some choreographer

imposes their dance upon someone else and then suddenly the whole room is dancing a new dance---sort of like that new Korean dance craze called Gangum or something like that--I'm rhythmically challenged so I don't even attempt it....even in church I don't attempt to do those claps with the songs...I'm always either ahead or behind---I've never been much of one to dance to another's song. I told a friend of mine last Sunday that if they were gonna do those special claps--they needed to have a clapping for beginners class to help some of us challenged with the task.

I often wonder what I was like as a child and how my mama and daddy dealt with me.  I was often too imaginative for my own good--of course some of that wasn't helped by the fear factor holy roller church they took me to. (no it was not a snake handling one---but they did fall out in the spirit, roll around speaking in tongues  run around the pews---now hear me---I am not saying that these experiences were wrong or fake---I'm just saying what I saw there and my experiences of it were----It scared the bejebbers our of me---for example---before I'd even sit down at church, I'd take a look around the old theater like chairs and always pick the one that gave me the most protection from the shouters and the fallers.  One day, I'll have to do a blog post about a typical service....but I must say--even a fear factor church imprints the wonder of faith and hope and grace.).  Anyway...that is for another post....

I was always inquisitive--had a real thirst for knowledge--and didn't ever think I was very smart.  I devoured books--any kind of book---I remember sitting on our hardwood floors in front of the coal burning stokermatic--with a little spiral notebook, you know the ones with the wire thingy at the top like a secretary....I can remember sitting there reading the encyclopedia's--yep it was before computers--and now I'm showing my almost 50 something year old age.  I suppose my love of science started there---I'd sit for hours copying stuff about bacteria and atoms and all the tiny building blocks that fascinated me.  I loved music---all kinds from Dolly Partin and Porter Wagner down to Kiss--who covered my wall during my teenage years---Donny Osmond was the love of my life---my idea of a great husband consisted of a cross between Gene Simmons of Kiss and Donny Osmond--oh my.

I spent lots of time in my imaginary world---playing in the trees and swinging on the tire swing that my "littlpa" hung for me in back his of house about ten feet away from where the railroad tracks that ran behind his house.  I'd be out there singing and swinging pretending to be famous or creating some story in my head about how the train was going to stop and someone would get off and ask me to sing on the "grand ole opery"---that's what my Littlepa always listened to....so that was the epitome of being famous for me.

My sister and I would play out behind mama and daddy's house---daddy had us an old wagon bed out back and he'd built a wall onto it.....we'd set up our kitchen stuff up on the wagon--climb up on it and suddenly we are playing house or cowboys or cooking out in the times of the pioneers--mixing mud and grass and pulling tree bark off the trees to write secret messages on.....

now we had barbies and bikes...

but I begged for a mini-bike---and I pretended to be evil Knievel--when mama and daddy caught me riding through the ditches--standing up on the seat at full speed---they decided to sell my mini-bike and they bought me a piano....it wasn't as much fun...but it did add another layer to my ability to escape reality....if they were honest...after about two weeks or so...I'm sure they wished they could trade it back for another mini-bike.

I've always been a bit different.....could never fit into the round peg that the world proclaimed as "normal"---not that I was a square--didn't fit there either--but my multifaceted strangeness---was that...

different.

Now that I'm almost 50---I'm kind of thankful for all that my strangeness has taught me.

I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin.

I do what I want....most of the time...

I say what I mean or I try to 

and

do what I say...as long as I don't forget.

Long story short....

Lesson in all this rambling on Friday morning...

It is okay to be different!

It is okay to be strange!

It is okay to think outside the box..

to love to learn...

to be a mini-bike riding bookworm world escape artist...

it serves one well....

So live your life..

don't let someone else write your story....

uncover your own myth

it's what we were created to do----

to live

grow 

breath

and 

be..

be who we were created to be...

no gangum dancing for me..

...

no just the sexy hot dance that is uniquely mine....

Have a great weekend...

and

go on...

Live!!!

The Radical Rambler

ps....Ms. SL from Florida...

thanks for the inspiration package 

filled with the malted milk balls....

I've lost your phone number---seems I can't always work my i-phone correctly---call me sometime so we can catch up...

I miss you...

but 

I also know...

you too have your own sexy hot dance--not as good as mine----but uniquely your own sexy hot one...so go on out there and dance!!!