After my husband died, I attended a hospice grief group. One session as I was crying about my guilt that he had died (he’d presented as terminal Stage IV, there was never any doubt that he’d die), she looked directly at me and said “What, so you think you could have saved him?”
Whoa. Reality check. No way I could have saved him. And I think that was the beginning of my healing.
I never saw her again. I actually thought of calling the facilitator of the group to find out who she was, but by then the facilitator herself had died.
I was about 16, and my partner (I’ll call her “Amy”) and I were in a figure skating competition. Amy was nervous, and so was I–we were probably skating in a competition well beyond our capabilities, and we knew it, but our coach entered us anyway.
We were shaking before we took the ice–just as another coach came up behind us, and said, “Relax. The only losers are the ones who don’t compete.”
This hit home, for both Amy and me. As competitors, and free of the “loser” label, we went out and skated the program of our lives. We didn’t win. But out of 20 couples, all of whom were better “on paper” than we were, we managed to place 8th.
“The only losers are the ones who don’t compete” has stuck with me over the years. And it has served me well. Thank you, Unknown Coach!
I was about 15 or 16, just starting to play guitar - loving Ted Nugent :eek:
Had a substitute math teacher one day who referenced Hendrix for some reason while explaining a concept. I approached him after class to, you know, talk rock ;). He asked what I listened to and I said “Ted Nugent.” He said “where do you live and are you around this evening.”
This was before things got weird for student-teacher relationships.
Around 6pm, he showed up, talked with my mom (they compared notes on Zydeco) and came up to my room. He had BB King Live at the St. Regis, Disraeli Gears by Cream, a few others…including Jeff Beck’s album Truth. He played the albums and pointed out key things - the beautiful simplicity of Cream’s version of Cat’s Squirrel; the perfect, simple phrasing of Jeff Beck’s lead work.
He finished and took off - maybe after 60-90 minutes. I never listened to guitar the same way again - I certainly didn’t listen to Nugent much after that. But for the life of me, I can’t remember his name and never saw him again. At the time, I didn’t fully realize his impact, so didn’t go out of my way to seek him out - it was just an intro to cool music. In hindsight, I sure wish I thanked him.
I’m usually ‘the stranger’. More than once I’ve had someone tell me “You’ve changed my life.”
Anyway, I kept putting off things until I ‘got skinny’ when a friend said, “Stop living your life in the future, live it now.”
I mean, since then, I’ve done a lot of inappropriate things for a fat girl. Jump out of airplanes, figure skate, show horses, wear a short skirt and tight britches…
Over 20 years ago I experienced a really down period. I was sitting at my desk sobbing over my circumstances when I spotted a display of Employee Assistance Program brochures. When I called the number, I was crying hysterically and barely able to explain what was wrong. The person who answered the phone was so thoughtful and kind that for the first time I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He told me that he could get me an initial therapy consultation that afternoon for no charge. That ultimately lead to me getting the help I needed and completely turning my life around. He was just an anonymous guy on the other end of the phone, but I still think about him and wish that I could somehow thank him for his patience and for turning me in the right direction.
Once my wife and I went to a hair salon so I could get a haircut, our son wasn’t born yet so it was just the two of us. We were waiting and sitting there talking, an old woman was sitting across from us staring at us in a funny way. My wife said while I was getting my hair cut the old woman gave her a slip of paper with a phone number on it and said to call her she had something to tell her.
Anyway my wife calls the number and she said the old woman was like she watched us for awhile and realized we were together as in a couple, and started telling my wife how lucky she was to have a foreigner man and that she needed to cherish me and do whatever I want and dress more sexy for me and on and on. My wife rolled her eyes but I said that woman was profound!
As I have told my wife that woman was the single most right person we have ever met!
*This incident actually happened, although this post in tongue in cheek. The woman gave great advice though!
Years ago, before I quit drinking, a homeless derelict that frequented my neighborhood stopped me as I was leaving the liquor store and told me I was drinking too much and needed to stop.
Marion Wormer, I like yours. I know lots of women who feel that way.
I’m not as skinny and beautiful as I was when I was twenty, but I try to realize that at age 50, I may not look as good doing what I wanna do, but at this point who cares.
I did the skydiving thing too. I described it as terrifyingly orgasmic
The teacher in question was actually a Bodhisattva, choosing to continue to live life after life in this world rather than step off the wheel of dharma and into Nirvana, as would have been his due. Few ever see him more than once and none ever remembers his name, but only when his work here is done - that is, only when the last 15-year old guitarist on Earth has been cured of thinking Ted Nugent is awesome - will he go on to his reward.
When an older friend of mine got divorced, all her women friends went to help her move and set up house. It was a lot of older hippie/poet/granola types, all very sweet and centered and I didn’t feel like I fit in at all.
My friend served everyone and gave a little thank you speech. One of the women responded, “It’s an honor to be a part of your journey.”
That struck me as such a lovely and profound way to look at life. I’ve tried to bring that attitude to my various jobs and relationships, and I can truly say it’s changed my life.
The guy who noticed nine-year-old me trying to haul my little brother out of the deep end of a wave pool and swam out to help. It took him about three seconds to get Little Bro the last five feet to the ladder. I had been fighting the undercurrent for what felt like ten minutes and was having trouble keeping us above water.
Yes, there was a lifeguard on duty. She’d spent my entire rescue effort standing by the edge of the pool glaring as if two kids nearly drowning in front of her was a terrible inconvenience.
Our rescuer hauled Little Bro to dry ground, made sure I was able to climb out and then began to ream said lifeguard for not doing her job.
Thank you, stranger. Little Bro and his wife are expecting their first kid this spring, and I don’t think that would have happened without you.
