After a major getaway of yoga and meditation and spiritual chanting, you can’t just jump back into work. So I took Monday off, to restock the refrigerator, be with my kiddos and just ease into life-as-usual.
In the afternoon, we watched the movie, Pitch Perfect, in honor of which my Eliana had been hitting cups about for the past several months.
I didn’t expect to love it. I didn’t expect it to speak to me. I expected something akin to High School Musical (1, 2 or 3, you pick) and cute, but for kids.
Of course, by the end, tears welled in my eyes.
It’s silly, I know, but I won’t apologize for being sensitive and seeing beauty in even a teenage movie.
It’s the transformation that happens from the start of the movie, where all the adolescent qualms and worries are laid on the table, to the end where the issues are resolved and the characters find strength and harmony and their place in the world. That, my friends, is worth shedding a tear or two about.
Because in real life, how often does that happen? Can you really remember your college friends and their issues just magically disappearing, them finding clarity, by the end of freshman year?
I didn’t think so.
In fact, can you look back and see complete transformation in…anyone? Yourself?
I know it didn’t happen for me. Sure, I evolved and grew up and changed throughout college, but I was still dogged by the same insecurities – I hate to say it – until I was about 37. And I feel lucky – because many people never shed theirs at all.
Plus, the music was good and the singing voices superb. And I love a story about nerdy kids finding the place that they fit. Because I truly believe that 99% of the population are nerds anyway and so who are the popular kids whom we yearn for and fear simultaneously?
Insecure individuals themselves whose beauty or prowess or muscles or allure usually fades post-high school anyway.
Nobody’s popular – that’s the truth. Everyone has their inner nerd. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
It’s time we all stand up and celebrate the quirks and oddities that make us who we are. I wouldn’t want to look or sound or be like everyone else. Hell, I’m 42 and I know better now – let’s just hope we all get there someday. Because living in envy-ville is no life at all. Celebrating your inherent gifts and talents and beauty, now that’s something to sing about.