Why?

30 Nov

Why?  Why do I do a radio show, why do I bother sharing personal experiences, why do I blog, why do I leave myself open for criticism that way?

I don’t do it because I think I’m special or privileged or feel a need to be the center of attention.  I do it because I’m NOT those things, because the story I tell along the way just might help some other ordinary person figure out how to manage the speed bumps of life that stand in the way.

I’ll never climb Mount Everest.  I’ll never be a star of any kind, rock or movie.  I’ll never be a sports figure making millions of dollars a year.  I will never live in a mansion on the hill either.

I’m pretty ordinary.  My Mount Everests are the same kinds of obstacles everyone is apt to face in their life, whether it’s an emotional one, a financial one, or a physical one.

Like everyone else, I have had spectacular highs in my life, like when my kids were born.  It was the same, only different, (I love that expression, which came from my son) when my granddaughter was born.  We were scared, she was premature, she was so tiny…tinier than any baby I’d ever seen before, yet she was huge compared to the size her grandpa had been when he was born.

I was proud of my kids.  I’m even more amazed by my granddaughter.  I think that’s because I’m not caught up in the day to day stuff with her, I can simply enjoy her when I get the chance.  She really IS the apple of my eye.

I love my pets, and yes, there is one who stands above the others.  She’s the one who’s been with me the longest, and yes, Greg notices that there is some favoritism towards Red Dog.  She’s sleeping on the bed beside him while I am writing this, despite the fact she weighs in at over sixty pounds.  She’s old, she gets stiff in the rear end and the front end too, and has a hard time moving after being chilled by laying on a cold floor.  It was cold last night.  She is also covered by a microfleece blanket, and probably is resting her butt on my pillow.  I’m not going to look.

I love Greg too.  We have been married over a month now, but in reality, after living together for over three years, the marriage doesn’t feel new and shiny.  It’s more like that favorite pair of jeans that fits just right.  I can’t imagine life without him.  It’s not just about the physical help he gives  me with the daily obstacles, but the emotional support and partnership in every facet of our lives.  We face the world together.

I love my friends too.  They exasperate me, aggravate me, drive me crazy sometimes, but that’s what friends do.  They are the family you get to choose, and sometimes, we must have a need for more aggravation in our lives.  Even so, my friends add a richness and depth to my life.

My family.  Oh lordy, are they a family.  We fight, we argue, we disagree…but we’re family.  We love each other because there is no way to escape shared DNA.  That shared DNA is like a license to bitch, advise, ignore, complain, gossip, discuss…everything and everybody.  Gathering any two or more of us together, and the whole family is going to get a work over as we drag out everything that’s happened and been done for re-examination.  Nobody but The Aunts can inspire fear, laughter, exasperation, rolled eyes, embarrassment, and fits of pure giggles like they can when they gather together and invade your life.  They seem to feed off of each other, as they roll out every shocking statement and comment they possibly can, completely ruining what your expectations of “older aunts” were, even when you grew up with this crew in your life.  Yeah, I miss days with The Aunts…a lot.  Making tamales, cleaning house, doing the things that needed to be done…The Aunts made hard work seem a lot easier.  Sometimes, I start thinking about moving back to Arizona so that I was closer to The Aunts, but then I come to my senses again.

The entire why of what I do is explained in stories told and lessons learned.  I learned a lot from hearing the stories of life from my friends and family.  Sometimes, it helped me make a better decision, other times, it helped me avoid a pitfall.  On occasion, they made me laugh, and sometimes, they made me cry.  There is a reason why storytelling has always been a part of the human fabric.  We need the stories from others to help us get through this thing we call life.

Today, the stories aren’t told while sitting around the fire in a cave.  Now, we listen to them on internet radio, podcasts, and YouTube.  We read them in blogs, on websites.  A few of us still tell them, both our own stories and the stories of others.

That is why.

I was born and raised to be a story teller, and the best stories come from the heart.  My stories may not be dramatic, they may not have the eloquence of other far greater tellers of tales, but its my story.  If even one of my stories helps someone improve the quality of their life, then I’ve succeeded in accomplishing the goal of why I am telling it.

Yeah, and I’ve also got a few great recipes…and some of those have stories too.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: