Getting “miked” backstage at The View before going on.
This past March 17th, I appeared on ABC’s The View to honor Barbara Walters’ retirement, Patrick, and the two incredible interviews she did with him. It was such a wonderful thing for them to do, and we all shed tears, both those on camera and backstage as we remembered how wonderful he was. But as all too often happens for me with these kinds of events, birthdays, and anniversaries, it sent me into a deep funk that I struggled with. I wrote this (below) in the days that followed. It speaks of, not only of loss, and the cold feet I was experiencing at my upcoming wedding, but also, the difficulty of “letting go” that still rears it’s ugly head. Just to note: Oz is not such a bad place to make a home after all!
Why is it that after The View today, I feel like running home? I’m in Florida now, and all that goes through my mind is, “What am I doing here?” I should be with my dogs, my horses, back on the ranch. And what am I doing with this man? I’m tumbling into a future that I know nothing of.
Time to run back home. Like, when I was at a sleepover as a kid, and got homesick in the middle of the night – I snuck out, or got picked up my mom or dad, and only felt okay again when I was safely tucked back in my bed.
Maybe I’m still wanting to go back to my old life. Maybe I’m wishing that nothing had changed. Maybe I’m just wallowing in the complicated lush denial that my old life, the one I had with my Buddy really is gone.
“Yoouuuu-oo-ouuu, made me leave my happy home.” This song’s phrase has come into my mind often since I’ve been dating Albert. Seems I’m always leaving my familiar things, my responsibilities. And now I wake up in the morning after doing The View, and feel the aching pain and panic that comes with homesickness. And feel like I’ve have run away from home for too long.
Go home?
Where is my home?
I feel like I’ve made a mistake.
Is it that it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks? Is moving into a new and different-looking life is too tough for me? Or, is it my insides, screaming out that all this – with the balmy weather, cushy lifestyle, uncluttered apartment, really is not for me? Cause that’s what I was thinking as I walked out of the market this morning – this is not me. I don’t fit into this “easy” lifestyle.
And yes, some of all this traveling has to be remedied at some point (when, I don’t know), but it may be that this is still a good road that I’m on. I’m making a break with the past, or rather, breaking up the past remains of illusion that my broken past is still glued together somehow.
Maybe I just need to jump on that thought hard with both feet. Crumple the I-can-still-go-back-to-my-old-life-thought into oblivion, and get this damn thing over with.
I’m in a new world, and it hurts to learn anew. Growing pains are just that – painful. And I want to go home now. Okay??
I’m reminded of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, always wanting to go home. She was trapped in this new, odd world and couldn’t find her way out.
Surrender, Dorothy!
I feel like little Dorothy, wishing she had never left her sweet Kansas home, missing her family, her life. And look! She was now in this world that had color, flowers, unusual people, music; but also, a world that could be terribly dark, lonely, and foreboding.
I found a women’s aviation themed T-shirt that I cherish, and mostly keep folded in my drawer. It pictures the ruby red slippers, a pair of aviation goggles and green swirls of color. And written on the shirt, it says,
“Dorothy had the shoes, but she didn’t have the vision.”
Cause look, here she was, in a place where impossible things could become possible; eye color could change, straw men could walk, she could even fly. Think of all she could have done if she didn’t want to go home!
It’s a brave new world. And the fact of the matter is – a click of the shoes is never going to take “this” Dorothy back to her old home. But think of all the things I could do here – if I simply have the vision, and the ka-ka-ka-courage to stay.
