Hey Dido, Sing It !

I woke up this morning to the lyrics of a Gloria Estefan song singing inside my head. Now, while I am madly in love with Celine (and very sad that no one would go with me to see her documentary when it was playing in the theater), I am not a Glo fan - her music just doesn't do it for me - but the song is the one she wrote and released after that awful bus accident back in 1990 (my senior year of high school).  I remember how at the time of the accident, my momma - who is a Glo fan - wrote Glo a letter expressing her deepest wishes for a full recovery and I have no doubt that my mom's well wishes and the support of family, friends, and fans helped bring the singer out of the dark.

As most of you have inferred from my recent (ok, from most) of my posts, a significant part of my daily life is spent dimly lit.  It's ironic how one dark cloud can suck the light out of so many rays of sunshine; it's disheartening and puzzling: why would one intentionally prefer to spread doom and gloom when one could instead be a giver of light? Well, I think we know the answer to that, which is why I keep reminding myself that the actions of others have nothing to do with me: those actions are the outcomes of that person's pain, lack of confidence, fear, anxiety, ignorance, etc.

MY actions are the ones that count; they are the only ones I can control and it's time I start focusing all of my energies on affecting my own change instead being affected by others.  And so for the past few weeks, I've been making some changes, taking some actions, and it's paying off: I'm finally coming out of the dark and it is an awesome feeling.

I apologize for keeping the deets to myself but for now, I think it's best that I do: when all is said and done, I want to know that I made my choices without influence, that I chose what was best for me.

However, I want you all to know how much your support has helped me come to terms with my situation, how it has given me the courage to make tough choices, has reminded me to always stick to my convictions, and how it has served as a beacon of hope.  Even that dark cloud failed to extinguish your flames!

Yesterday was our school's poetry festival - the 19th annual of what used to be the largest in the state... until this year when, like Vincent Toro wrote in this poem, the admin claimed that the "schools got no dough for art programs".  Still, it was a total love fest and the kids were incredibly inspired by the words of Marjorie Barnes, Joe Weil, Charles Johnson, Cat Doty, Christine Salvatore, Joseph Legaspi, BJ Ward and another lovely poetess who, at the last minute, filled in for one who couldn't make it and whose name escapes me currently.

Coincidentally, yesterday turned out to be my own personal love fest when so many of my dear, dear friends reached out to me in simple little ways that meant so much.  Sitting next to my girl Strachan as we teared up while watching Marjorie Barnes perform "My Blues Ain't Over Yet" was a sappy moment the two of us could only share through poetry but proof that we will always be best friends.

And just when you think it can't get much better than that, imagine checking your Twitter and discovering that your own personal rock star, @AmandaCaswell, put out a #FF declaring you one of the "Women [she] adore[s] and aspire[s] to be" or having an authentic back and forth blog comment/email conversation with a fellow English teacher you've never met but who is morphing from a virtual dear friend into an actual one.

Or hearing from your mom that she's feeling great and enjoying spending time with one of her co-workers 4 days a week after work, or heading over to The Community after a long absence and being greeted warmly and genuinely (and having @sifinalaska tweet you that she's missed you!).

Or talking Harry Potter with one of your husband's college buddies via blog comments and having your husband chime by adding his own two cents on "those, what, like, two or three books in that series that [he'll] never read?" from across the sushi spread.  Or getting a text message from one of your craziest, most fun loving, adorable friends inviting you as "one of [her] favorite ladies to get together as a ridiculous, fun foursome" and play in a "charity golf outing behind [her] house. Golf, beer, prizes, breakfast, lunch, booze, gift bags, prizes and a night at Chez Cingari".

Or receiving text messaged dresses in hopes that you can choose the one just right for your dear friend's pseudo retirement dinner, pseudo because after 25 years of teaching at the school you worked in for the first 4 years of your career, she is resigning to move to Philly to be with the love of her life.  Or getting an email from the superintendent of that district (who was your supervisor ten years ago) asking when you'll be back in PA so the three of you can go out and celebrate Paula's new beginning.

Or chatting with your best friend from birth on the phone about her little mini-me's decision to "re-invent herself as Elizabeth instead of Libby" when she starts kindergarten in the fall or sharing buffalo chicken tenders and mounds of blue cheese dressing with your other childhood BFF at the Bridgewater Mall after helping her choose the best pair of maternity skinny jeans to get her through the last few months of her fourth pregnancy.

Man, I am blessed.

Thank you.

xx Ali