Hokey Pokey Revival
November 26, 2008, by Melissa Howden
Photo by Cathy R. Fischer
A new friend wrote to me recently and said, “Thank You for living fully.”
This caused me to pause.
On first reading my inclination was to discount her perception saying to myself,
“Oh I don’t really do that, I am just doing what shows up.”
Now I wonder why my first instinct is almost always to discount the great truths about my own Self. I imagine some of it to be a synapse, some kind of cultural game binding me (and I suspect many women of my, (all?) generations hold a mistaken belief that we are less, than we really are. My grandmothers did it, my mother did it, so of course it stands to reason that I might follow suit.
I recently said to my friend Lila in reference to all the changes in my life, “If I were to give in to my true nature right now, I would be scared out of my wits!” Her response was, “You aren’t scared out of your wits because that is not your true nature!”
Ahhhh, but where would we all be without the glory of our gal pals reflecting real the truth back to us? I think this is where real evolution takes place, sitting across the table from a dear friend, the kind of friend who is willing to say what is real when it’s necessary.
Yes, in fact I am living fully, grabbing the gusto and holding on for the ride. My true nature is not to be scared out of my wits and when it feels as though I am, I remember the wisdom of my great teacher who told me that usually when we are scared it means “We are standing this close (gesturing the smallest of distances between her first finger and her thumb) to greatness!”
When standing just this side of greatness, “Who you gonna call?” I suppose one approach would be to hope for a rush of answers, life data as it were, or…one could do the hokey pokey and put your whole self in. At this stage of the game, and with my girlfriends as my glad companions of delight, I am opting for the hokey pokey approach—Whole Self or no self. That is my new motto.
This Thanksgiving, I’m calling all life enthusiasts to the table and offering a toast to those who share my zest, cheer for those who jump in, and don’t hesitate a moment to give a push when called for.
November 26th, 2008 at 8:13 am
I’m putting my left foot in, taking my left foot out and then the next foot, the hands and eventually the whole body. Thanks Melissa for being an all-in kind of gal. Shake it all about!
November 26th, 2008 at 11:09 am
When someone tells me I look great, I usually say something like, “It’s nighttime, that’s probably why.” When someone congratulates me on my blogging, I usually say, “Yeah, but I’m too old to work for free.” I’m working on reversing these stupid, knee-jerk, wannabe self-deprecating but actually self-demeaning responses. And thank God “the girls” are there to point out the pattern. I’m so grateful!
November 29th, 2008 at 5:03 pm
Loved this blog. It made me cry.
What´s that about?
December 1st, 2008 at 10:41 am
To live life authentically is the most difficult task we have as humans. By the way, I find it a helluva lot easier to be authentic in Vermont than in Los Angeles.
December 4th, 2008 at 7:52 pm
I used to be a “little toe in” sort of girl. I don’t know what I was afraid of. Or maybe I do know. REPERCUSSIONS, of course. All girls seem to be trained early in the art of REPERCUSSIONS, and how they should be avoided at all costs.
Looking at it today, from the perspective of a half century of life, I wonder how I could have been so stupid. I spent my youth trying to fit in, trying to please my mother, trying to make people like me, denying my nature and changing myself to be someone people wanted to be with — basically wasting my life pretending to be someone I was not. And for what? I married a person that was all wrong for me. I wore clothes that I hated, but my mother approved of. And where did it get me? Precisely nowhere.
Today, I haven’t the energy to maintain those facades. And guess what? I LOVE my life. I have a husband who loves me for ME, not for what I pretend to be. My mother does not, and never will approve of me. (Her loss.) I’ve had enough REAL trauma in my life to know that you have to jump in with both feet and, you know, shake it all about!
Thanks for writing this, Melissa. I apologize for whatever I was when we were in high school. That wasn’t me. It was a mishmash of what I thought others wanted me to be. And how stupid is that?