Storms, Voice Overs and Grey's Anatomy

"There's an end to every storm.

 

 Once all the trees have been uprooted, once all the houses have been ripped apart, the wind will hush. The clouds will part. The rain will stop. The sky will clear in an instant.

 

 And only then, in those quiet moments after the storm, do we learn...

who was strong enough to survive it."

I'm  about to "out" myself:   I watch Grey's Anatomy.  The above is a quote I took from Meredith Grey's voice over at the end of the season 9 finale (don't worry, if you're a fan and you haven't yet seen the finale, I'm not about to give anything away with this post). I started watching Grey's Anatomy for the first time about a year ago and I started for a specific reason:

I needed to cry.

I needed an emotional outlet.

There was so much turmoil in my life and I discovered that I needed the cathartic experience that comes with watching a show that tugged at my heartstrings, that took me on an emotional roller coaster ride, leaving me breathless and wasted, but ready to take on the world because it offered me a safe outlet for my pain.

IT WORKED BEAUTIFULLY....that and swearing at the top of my lungs :-)

After watching that episode, and the tears had stopped, I was left pondering the voice over...

"And only then, in those quiet moments after the storm, do we learn...

who was strong enough to survive it."

 

I realized, in no time, that I don't agree with this quote.  Have you ever seen a broken human being? Have you ever witnessed someone go through an emotional pain so terrible that you can't fathom what it feels like? I have. Witnessing it made me understand:  Some pains are unbearable and yes, some of us survive them, but a lot of us don't and that has nothing to do with strength.  This statement,  I would argue, is a dangerous generalization.  I survived my terrible year, and the terrible years that preceeded it and, yes, I am a stubborn and tough SOB but sometimes, even tough SOB's can't weather a storm if the storm is forceful enough. Even stubborn SOB's can be left crippled and weak, and yes, sometimes they don’t survive. That's not about strength, that's about the size of the storm...easily confused but not interchangeable concepts.

My daughter is here after the storm, but only because we forced her to be.  Left on her own, her storm would not have been weathered and, should she have been taken from me, it is a guess as to whether or not I would have had the strength to continue.  Some storms can’t be weathered. Some storms take us and bash us and we are never the same.

I challenge you to think twice about pain, about strength and about survival and if you do, remember that pain is not meted out in "fair" doses, rationed out by what can be handled.  Always know that  not "getting back up" after being knocked down is not a sign of weakness but, perhaps, an indicator of the gravity of your trauma.


I challenge you to say no to thoughtless, pointless gross generalizations like the following that make people feel shame for buckling under extreme duress:

.

...and say no to well penned voice overs, as well, for often, they sound pretty but hold no real substance. Now, put the kettle on, get a box of Kleenex, fire up an episode, and have a good cry

Love Always,

A "Grey's Anatomy Watching" Red Bird

Career Change

Well my dear friend, I think things are pretty much back to normal. We are back in sync with west coast time, the apartment has managed to lend itself well to the four of us without feeling crowded and I am nearing the end of a cold that hit me fast and hard and has left me with a strained neck and shoulder as I awkwardly piled up pillows in an attempt to sleep without having to reach for a tissue every five minutes. Ah, such is life!

With everything in it's place and running smoothly, I have had time to think about my next step on this funky road I travel and well, a career change is in order. I am going to try my hand at modelling.

Okay, I'll give you a moment to mop up the coffee I know just sprayed right out your nose and mouth. Obviously I don't mean that type of modelling, I mean 3D modelling for gaming purposes. Okay, another moment to mop up more coffee is probably needed here, after all we both know I am not gifted in the technology department. But I am an artist and it's about time I dragged myself into the 21st century. I now have words like Blender, Unity, polygons and meshes in my vocab and more importantly, I know and understand what they all mean! Impressed? I'm beside myself with giddy pride as I rotate, scale, translate and LMB the heck out of our desktop. My trusty team of geeks (aka the Boy and the Man) are watching mouths agog as I create a game character who I will animate, somewhere around Chapter 8.

This is of course all down to the Boy. We have in the back of our minds the thought that University may not be for him with all it's social hurdles and processing challenges. He is at home in the world of computers and it appears gifted at this gaming thing. At present he is designing a game with people from Australia and Romania and has plans for a gaming empire. We see ourselves as his champions and guides, so I had better get myself up to date, can't champion the kid if I have no idea what I'm talking about. The added bonus being a new skill for me and a possible income in the future. When you open yourself up to new possibilities great things can happen. Let's see if this is one of those times. Heck, I've said it out loud now, so I can't fail, that would be too embarrassing.

Always yours
your newly geeky friend
Sparrow

Sparrow's return

Well my dear friend, I am back in Canada. You have been so patient with me while I shut myself off for 10 weeks as I knew you would. I didn't intend on disappearing altogether during this time, it just happened. I had no desire to open my laptop. No need to check emails or follow my usual blogs. No craving for contact. I was happy being a daughter and a mother, reconnecting with my parents face to face rather than over Skype or the phone line. Spending time with family.
 After recovering from the initial shock of my Mum's diagnosis and the stress of hopping on a plane and leaving the boy's behind, I have been struggling with another emotion which took me rather by surprise. Jealousy. I found myself resenting the fact that my parents live so close to my sister now. That she can pop round whenever she wants and that their world now revolves around my niece. I know, and I'm deeply embarrassed. I'm jealous of my four year old niece! I have to assume that it's all related to the fact that my parents mortality has been aggressively thrust in my face and reminded me that what I once took for granted is fast running out. Time. My sister is banking hours of it, memories to always have in her back pocket in the future when she needs them. I didn't want to share my precious minutes with her or my niece, I didn't want my memories to be about what my niece did, I wanted them to be about me and my parents. Inside I was stamping my feet and having a tantrum and I fear perhaps, a little outside too. Ten weeks seems like a long time, but it flew by all too fast and I feel like I haven't done enough for them. My Mum is undergoing chemotherapy and I'm not there to tell her how beautiful she looks when she loses her hair, her biggest fear in this battle she is in. Or to support my Dad when the love of his life is suffering and he doesn't know what to do. This is his battle too. I have never felt so far away and totally useless.

Thank you dear heart for letting me hide away these last few months, but life keeps moving forward so I am back and running along side you once more.
Always yours
Sparrow