When I was a little girl I had big dreams.
Often I could be found with a towel wrapped about my head in an effort to recreate a good and proper famous woman's hair-do. Then I'd sing into my hairbrush microphone much to the delight of my stuffed animal audience.
They loved me.
But my road to fame was cut short one night while watching the Country Music Awards. Though my mama always thought I had the voice of a country angel, this TV show made me realize a mama's love can make her lie.
I heard talent- real talent. And suddenly, my hairbrush tunes sounded painfully hollow.
And I mourned the loss of a fame I would never know.
I thought about this as I stood in the grocery store line and saw Michael Jackson's life splashed across magazine after magazine.
Fame comes at the highest cost.
In one of the last interviews I ever saw Michael do, tears leaked from his eyes as he admitted to a living in a loneliness that most people would never know. The very thing that made him a household name, made him a prisoner within himself.
Fame is the most hungry of beasts. What makes you famous today, devours the success of now looking for more tomorrow- the next big thing you must deliver. You are only as good as your most recent accomplishment. And that is an exhausting and impossible way to live.
Once you've tasted fame you develop an insatiable hunger that's hard to satisfy any other way. But the reality of fickle fans and the hands of time make it impossible to always have a number one hit, to forever be the most beautiful, and to consistently hold the attention of a world gone mad with wanting the next great thing- always the next great thing.
Realizing you were yesterday's great thing messes with a person in way very few can recover.
I think sometimes we look at the seemingly carefree lifestyles of the rich and famous and sigh and wish and travel back to our child hood dreams asking what if.
But it hit me in the grocery store line what an extraordinary gift an ordinary life really is. Simplicity and humility hold the keys to a freedom this world can't even process.
So, I unloaded the contents of my ordinary grocery cart onto the ordinary grocery belt and assessed my ordinary life full of chicken nuggets, turkey sandwiches, lunchables, and spaghettios. I smiled at the most exotic trip my kids and I will take today- an adventure to the Target Dollar Aisle to let them ponder and stress over the coolest thing a dollar can buy.
Then I'll go home to put on my skirted tankini and sit out in my ordinary back yard watching the kids break that Target item while my husband throws burgers on our ordinary grill.
I'll lift my face not to flashing bulbs and screaming crowds demanding more than my soul was designed to give- but rather to a simple breeze winding its way through the giggles of my girls. And I'll thank God for the gift--- the absolute gift of my ordinary.
Often I could be found with a towel wrapped about my head in an effort to recreate a good and proper famous woman's hair-do. Then I'd sing into my hairbrush microphone much to the delight of my stuffed animal audience.
They loved me.
But my road to fame was cut short one night while watching the Country Music Awards. Though my mama always thought I had the voice of a country angel, this TV show made me realize a mama's love can make her lie.
I heard talent- real talent. And suddenly, my hairbrush tunes sounded painfully hollow.
And I mourned the loss of a fame I would never know.
I thought about this as I stood in the grocery store line and saw Michael Jackson's life splashed across magazine after magazine.
Fame comes at the highest cost.
In one of the last interviews I ever saw Michael do, tears leaked from his eyes as he admitted to a living in a loneliness that most people would never know. The very thing that made him a household name, made him a prisoner within himself.
Fame is the most hungry of beasts. What makes you famous today, devours the success of now looking for more tomorrow- the next big thing you must deliver. You are only as good as your most recent accomplishment. And that is an exhausting and impossible way to live.
Once you've tasted fame you develop an insatiable hunger that's hard to satisfy any other way. But the reality of fickle fans and the hands of time make it impossible to always have a number one hit, to forever be the most beautiful, and to consistently hold the attention of a world gone mad with wanting the next great thing- always the next great thing.
Realizing you were yesterday's great thing messes with a person in way very few can recover.
I think sometimes we look at the seemingly carefree lifestyles of the rich and famous and sigh and wish and travel back to our child hood dreams asking what if.
But it hit me in the grocery store line what an extraordinary gift an ordinary life really is. Simplicity and humility hold the keys to a freedom this world can't even process.
So, I unloaded the contents of my ordinary grocery cart onto the ordinary grocery belt and assessed my ordinary life full of chicken nuggets, turkey sandwiches, lunchables, and spaghettios. I smiled at the most exotic trip my kids and I will take today- an adventure to the Target Dollar Aisle to let them ponder and stress over the coolest thing a dollar can buy.
Then I'll go home to put on my skirted tankini and sit out in my ordinary back yard watching the kids break that Target item while my husband throws burgers on our ordinary grill.
I'll lift my face not to flashing bulbs and screaming crowds demanding more than my soul was designed to give- but rather to a simple breeze winding its way through the giggles of my girls. And I'll thank God for the gift--- the absolute gift of my ordinary.
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