Spinster Tails

As the holidays rush to an end, we face the brightness of 2017, a new year.  Many of us have resolved to be healthier and more productive.  We are eager to slip into the “New You”—fit, wealthy, romantically attached, popular, and still zen.  And we all want that "unique" glow of being as expected, like others, but individual enough to attract attention.

This is too complicated.  What if I don’t want to be the 2017 model?  She looks great, but she's not me.  What if I don’t want the software update?! 

When people tell me how I should be, how happiness looks, and what I must sacrifice for it, I feel silenced.  No one asked my opinion of joy.  Rather, they catapulted me into their frenzy for perfection.  New Year’s Day becomes the Black Friday of self-revision.  We line up for whatever is being sold and trample each other to grab it without asking, “Do I even want this thing?”

This frenzy to be other than oneself reminds me of Disney’s The Little Mermaid.  Lessons: never relinquish your voice, keep your fish friends close, and never trust an octopus drag queen.  Ariel, the mermaid princess with the perfect pitch, sees and rescues dark-haired, tan Eric, a human prince and a solid guy.  Her only problem?  She's a fish, and he's a dish. 

Ariel is unmoved by this apparent difficulty.  She is willing to abandon everything--her people, identity, friends, family, trinkets cave, and the lower half of her body--to be with Eric.    In relinquishing all this, she sacrifices her self and cannot connect meaningfully with the man she loves.  She may give Ursula her voice in exchange for legs, but she reaches the shore as a shell of her self.  Eric admires this silent beauty and maybe loves her, but he longs for the singing Ariel, the one who rescued him from the sea.  Luckily for them, Ariel retrieves her voice and reunites with Eric.  Because it's Disney, it all works out, but in our lives, sacrificing one's identity rarely leads to a healthy relationship.  Maybe Eric would have followed Ariel's voice and reunited with her.  They could have had beach dates, met each others' friends and family, and avoided the whole Ursula drama entirely.  Maybe King Triton would have come around and granted Ariel legs anyway.   

In this blog, I highlight people who sing with their own voices.  They are introspective, courageous, and independent.  Like Ariel, they see what they want and know who they are, but unlike Ariel, they don’t sacrifice that identity to fit another’s plan for perfection. 

Beneath the ads and commercials screaming about the “newer and better you” this year, I hear the hum of people saying, “Welcome, 2017.  This year, I am enough.”  We already have what we need to be joyful.  We shine, and we won't trade ourselves for others' demand's.  If your gifts make you happy, practice them.  If it's lifting weights, growing kale, or reconstructing your kitchen, more power to you.  If it's the little things like baking great brownies, knowing when someone needs a kind word, or assisting the kick for the winning goal, do it.   Keep your fish tail and your voice; swim as you please.  You never know whose admiration you have earned by having the courage to be yourself.

Best wishes,
Super Spinster