on dirty dancing

   source: IMDB

I sensed it was a rite of passage.

Like my special viewing of The Breakfast Club before it and getting to stay up for It's a Wonderful Life on the Christmas Eve of my fifth grade year (the year I knew for sure that Santa wasn't real), my introduction to Dirty Dancing was one of those moments when I knew my parents were ready to let me grow up.

I remember my mom asking if I wanted to watch it. I remember feeling special. I remember the couch we sat on. I remember where the TV set was. I remember feeling uncomfortable watching a sex scene (albeit, a very TAME one by today's standards) with my mom in the room. I remember loving the movie ... and that I'd been given the opportunity to watch it.

Mind you, I came from a household in which The Fresh Prince of Bel-air was off-limits for being too risqué. I had to sneak my soap opera watching. The most exposure to sensuality I'd experienced prior to watching Dirty Dancing was a sixth grade read (and re-read) of Judy Blume's Forever. Even with Dirty Dancing under my belt (pun!), I was still legitimately shocked during my senior year of high school when half my friends revealed they'd slept with their boyfriends on Valentine's Day ...

Still, it's a sexy movie isn't it? Despite being a story of a somewhat illegal love affair (Johnny's got to be 20-something, right?!), it's mesmerizing. Timeless. Why? Because it's the archetypal story of a girl awakened to more. It's the story of a guy enchanted and confused and made sensitive and strong as a result. It's a story about courage and change.

Jennifer Grey's smile makes you believe in the delight Baby's experiencing.

Plus, Patrick Swayze. I mean, COME ON.

And that soundtrack? #knowthewordsbyheart

Then there's Detective Lenny Briscoe ... #justsayin

And lastly ... CHOREOGRAPHED DANCE! That junk is my kryptonite.

The point: Ladies, Dirty Dancing is on Netflix. Grab a glass of wine and get on that.

on quitting the comfort zone

I have NEVER wanted to do public speaking.

Actually, that's not true, I HAVE wanted to it. I've wanted talking to a group to come easily and naturally, fluid even. To exude confidence in self and topic? I have wished for it. Like most introverts, I've had my moments of wishing I were an extrovert, jealous of those who can command an audience, certain that life would be easier if I, too, could always know the exact thing to say in the best way at the perfect time. Oh, to not be too terribly introspective and awkward .... 

But, alas, my lot in life is that of an introvert and my greatest fear (after spiders) remains putting myself out there and doing any and all versions of public speaking. I don't want to do it. I don't dream of succeeding at it. I've accepted my limitations. And I don't want to do it. Ever.

I want to do other things. Travel. Write. Concept. Play. Earn. Love.

I'm just not sure I get to do any of the other stuff if I don't grow some balls and step out of my box and quit the comfort zone. I have to kick the downsides of my introversion to the curb. I have to stop my clamoring for low-profile. I have to quit being timid in my uncertainty. I can't continue or succeed with a sense of low self-worth and diminished self-confidence.

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”

— Neale Donald Walsh

So, Monday evening, I'm going to go speak to a group. I'm going to speak about myself and my profession and my thoughts on being about the business of change. And I don't want to do it. I've been a basketcase in prep for the past several days. I'm terrified. The shame tape is playing, repeating just how certain I am that what I have to offer isn't good enough, clear enough, etc. That terrifies me. But, I'm going to do it. Succeed or fail, I'm going to do it ...

Because I want to do other things.

Wish me luck? :)

LOVE.