a story for Sunday

My ultimate dream would be to take a van to the streets of this country and listen to people's stories; Everyday pulling into a new spot to find out what makes someone else who they are. To hear what makes people laugh. To see the depths in which they have traveled to find their current place in this world. To know why they cling to God, or Allah, or the earth. To know why they get up in the morning and who it is that gives them the courage to face new days. 

Maybe it's social work school, maybe it's New York, maybe it's age.. but I'm getting more privy to the idea that when we are honest and vulnerable about our struggles and our lives, we yield  environments that are more understanding and real.  Maybe you're divorced or maybe you're homeless. Maybe your brother or your sister is at war. Maybe you feel misunderstood. Maybe you struggle with addiction or depression or pride. Maybe your political beliefs or religious beliefs don't fit in with anyone around you. Maybe, like Alanna, you just want to stand on your soapbox and yell all the things that no one else will say.

That's what Sundays are for. Sundays are for driving with the windows down and singing to your favorite playlist. Sunday's are for letting your hair down and telling secrets and having deep, life-changing conversations. 

Sundays are for storytelling.

 'A story for Sunday' was born out of this small idea that our stories can be used to challenge each other in our differences, to encourage understanding, and to accept those things that make us unique.

the way Alanna sees things:

Lee is a new friend, but already a great friend. I was touched when she asked me to contribute to “A Story for Sunday” – and to be the first...Well, I felt a bit nervous. Why? Well, I have a lot to say and I say things loud. Since my mother passed in 2005, I have chosen to be forthcoming with who I am, where I have been and where I hope to go. I favor honesty and vulnerability in conversation over conformity and false bravado, believing the latter to provide a false sense of security that can root itself in your heart and like a weed growing so fast that it veils your soul in the process. It isn’t easy choosing to relate to friends, family and the world in this way – I am constantly reminded just how human I truly am, how we all truly are, and how unaware of this fact so many appear to be. You stand in the elevator and someone in your office (of whom you are simply acquainted with) asks- out of civility and social script more than anything else- “How are you?” The majority of people -once again out of civility and social script- reply “Fine, All right, How about you?” Don’t you? I used to. Yet, I don’t believe the majority of people are fine or all right – How could they be? They are living life, and when is life ever simply ‘fine’ or ‘all right’? It shouldn’t be! 

That’s the beautiful thing about life, it’s colorful and twisted and never just ‘fine’. Life is about the crazy stress that makes you want to throw your coffee cup at the wall, the joy at seeing your child spell their name for the first time, and the fight you have with loved one that leaves a wrenching pit of pain in your stomach (as pure anger and pure love amass into one).

 Am I crazy? Maybe. I don’t know, people definitely tell me I’m strange. I just say it as I see it. Ask me how I am in the elevator one day – I don’t know what I’ll say, but I’ll be honest. I’ll tell you I’ve had better days, or that I didn’t sleep well last night and wish it was Friday rather than Tuesday. I’ll tell you I’m fantastic and thrilled to finally have some sun shining down through the branches of the urban jungle that is New York. I’ll tell you I miss my family and cried on the way to work this morning.

 I don’t think it’s practical to life your life at the whim of emotion, but it is important to keep in touch with those emotions. Be honest about them. Don’t hide behind the “Fines” and “All right’s” – you have more to say than that! Well…this is not at all where I thought my “Sunday Story” would go. It makes sense though – my life has been filled with so many moments, stories and trials of love, hate, fear, sadness, and in my youth I perfected the skill of hiding it all away behind a fake smile and the right words. I don’t want to do that anymore. What I’ve lived through, the good and the bad, are a part of me and I am not afraid of it. Nor should anyone be. One isn’t weak for baring their soul – they are honest, and an honest individual is a true individual. I want to be a true individual, so I can lead a true life.

I'm so thankful for friends like Alanna that share the belief that stories matter. Her post was candid and echoed the idea that sincerity and transparency lead to a more fruitful way of relating.. {and, hello? Is she not the most ridiculously talented writer? wow..}. Her post highlights the very reason that stories are important. She is a sweet friend that I'm excited for y'all to get to know more.. she hasn't even scratched the surface of her story yet. She'll be back another Sunday and her story will literally blow you away. If she encouraged you, I hope you'll take time to tell her in the comments .. even an 'AMEN!' or 'PREACH IT, SISTA!' will do.   

'A Story for Sunday' will be a weekly post-  I know you've got a voice.. and I'd love for you to jump in and share. I know what you're thinking. It's that thing people have told me forever-- "this is too deep and mushy and sensitive". This is all too 'flowery' and I need to take my 'peace love and butterflies' bullcrap elsewhere, right? But I'm not. I have been thinking about this and talking about this idea for months and bottom line: it's important to me. I honestly don't know if anyone reads this blog and I don't really know what I'm doing.. but I'm going for it. Why not? 

lee