Monday, July 18, 2011

A Teller of Tales

In a world without morals I would be a con artist.  I have come to this realization slowly - over a few months, really - and have very mixed feelings about it.  (Probably because I do live in a world with morals.)  It's so intriguing to me, and yet so very, inherently wrong.  I take some comfort in the knowledge that I wouldn't con people out of necessity, or addiction (as there are people addicted to the con out there).  It wouldn't be because of the rush I would get from selling the con.  It would be for the simple joy of telling the story.  It's an intense story, when you think about it, and demands plenty of detail and attention, yet for obvious reasons must be simple and vague.  Yes, the life of the con has always fascinated me.  Maybe that's why I love storytelling.

I took a storytelling class in college.  It was the easiest class I had, although my professor told me straight up that I was the best storyteller in his class - the storyteller with the most promise, the most knowledge of fairy tales - and because of this he would grade me on an entirely different scale than the rest of the class.  I gave a non-committal sort of nod, tried to wipe the confused, yet frustrated expression off my face, and found my revenge in doing spirited impressions of him for my classmates.  (Well, that and acting out the piano-playing scene from Big in the middle of class.  I was horrible, really.)  Two of  my roommates were also in the storytelling class that quarter, although they had the other section, and while they weren't too stoked on the assignments I was.  The textbook we had on using stories in the classroom and using tales as tools was strangely interesting to me.  And although I had little respect for the teacher - despite the fact that he handed me plenty of compliments with my sub par grading and asked me to tell a tandem story with him (yeah, I know I have some brown on my nose) - I did, and do, have great respect for storytelling. 

When I was telling a story it took my entire focus.  I wasn't up there putting on a show for my classmates.  I wasn't wearing a costume, although I did put a lot of thought into how my outfit might best portray some small aspect of my story.  It wasn't a game, although it was very fun.  I had rediscovered a story (one about the "hedgehurst" and another about Brer Rabbit) and needed to handle it in the best way possible so it might reach each listener and hit her in the same place it had hit me: my soul. 

Stories are interesting things.  They are like wild animals that are tamed but never broken.  There's danger in telling stories.  We've all learned that lesson, whether we witnessed, felt, or caused the hurt stories about other people can inflict.  When I approach a new story, whether it is a retelling or an original, it is with a cautious sort of delicacy: How will this story react when I take it in my hands?  When I mold it?  When I retell it?  Many stories demand a certain tenderness throughout.  One rough press and the entire piece crumbles.  Some require tight pressure and a heavy hand when it comes to molding.  Without restraint the story can become too formless or unmanageable, or both.  And once a story has become molded into the correct form it needs to be harnessed.  A runaway story can become a wildfire where it should be a simply a candle. 

I lose myself in stories all the time.  My cousin (in her life of a dreamer blog - go look at it) wrote about how she is constantly creating stories.  Every moment in her life, every passerby becomes caught up in the whirlwind of creation.  I loved this post especially because I do the same thing.  I lose myself in a moment.  It must be disconcerting for the people around me: I am sitting with a child, trying to help him build with blocks, when a character forces herself into my head.  She tries to show me part of her history, whether it is based on my work or totally random, and I am off, following her into Fairyland.  When I come back to the real world, usually only a second or two later, I am struck by an uncomfortable vibe I get from the kid's parent.  I was there in body but absolutely not in spirit.  The body was an animated but empty shell for that second, holding a block suspended for a child to reach and then with a sharp intake of breath and quick blink of the eyes was suddenly refilled.  I have been in the middle of saying something to a friend and will trail off because I am shooting off toward the stars, wondering how the world looks different when seen from above.  A soft, "Steph?" or redirection to the conversation usually brings me right back to Earth and with a shake of the head I get back into it. 

I come by my storytelling honestly.  (At least, I assume it's honest since it so obviously runs in the family.)  And like my cousin I so strongly dream of being a published author.  And while I was definitely inspired in this post by her blog, it also came from my readings on fairy tales and their tellers that I have recently jumped into (well, that and a couple of books about art fraud).  Fairy tales absolutely have their place in my life, and that's where my interest is right now.  So don't be too surprised if I write more about them in the near future.  After all, it's better fairy tales than cons, right?

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

"In Brightest Day, in Blackest Night..."

Am I in love with Ryan Reynolds?

Well, let me think about it for a minute or two.  You see, I went to see Green Lantern recently and was a little surprised by how thoroughly I enjoyed myself.  The movie itself wasn't particularly new in any way, although it did have some clever aspects to it.  The acting was - well, it was a superhero movie, so there were some outrageously cheesy lines (and deliveries), but overall it was fine.  It's not going to win any awards, and I'm sure the critics aren't too impressed.  In spite of all that, well, like I said: I really loved it!

I was immediately struck by how the heroes were powered by the Force of Will, and the villain was "an entity of Fear."  It's such an interesting concept, and yet somehow makes perfect sense: We are only held back by fear.  Without fear, with our will, we are able to accomplish anything.  (Well, not really anything, I guess.  I can't just pull a giant racetrack out thin air.)   But really, doesn't it make sense to think that "will is the driving force that powers us"?  One character even says that "will is the strongest force in the universe," and that when it is harnessed it can be used to power entire planets. 

I like that concept.  I like the idea that we are in control of our actions.  How very autonomous of me, right?  But really, it gives me a little bit of peace to think that the only thing keeping me from doing something that I want to do is, well, me.  Okay, so money can be tight, and obviously I have to go to work so I can pay my bills.  But when it comes down to it, if I decide I want to go to Harry Potter Land I can - I just have to come up with a plan to save for it.  If I decide I want to go back to school, I can.  If I decide I want to go sky-diving, I can.  There are so many things I have always said I wanted to do but somehow over the years they just haven't happened.  I never quite got around to them, or something else always came up.  And while the excuses - or "reasons," as I called them - were always good, I have been bothered by a little voice in the back of my mind that whispers, That's not why...You're just scared.  That's why.  This idea that my own will can give me the power to do these things - that it can give me the power to overcome fear - is one I like to have in my head.


Obviously seeing superhero movies is good for me. 


But Will vs. Fear cannot be where the thoughts stop, because for me, as a Christian, well, that isn't the end of the line.  Do I have my own will?  Yes!  I absolutely do.  Is my will the driving force that powers me?  My answer would have to be, "yes...to a certain extent."  But even that meshes with the movie.  The ring is what gives the Green Lantern his power; without it he is just a guy.  Hmmm...that sounds familiar.  Except, in my life, the Thing that powers my will is really a Being. 

There is a lot of talk in the movie about accepting the fact that you are afraid, but then overcoming it - courage.  Acknowledge the fear, but rise above it.  Don't engage it.  It makes me think about what my parish priest has said about it Christian life: it isn't about how few times you fall, but rather how many times you stand back up.  There is a moment in the movie when Paralax (the "entity of Fear") is battling Hal (the Green Lantern) and seems to be winning - as usually happens when the superhero and villain face off.  Paralax feels Hal's fear - my stomach clenched: would Hal actually lose? - and begins whispering to him.  "I can feel you weakening.  I feel your fear.  I am going to win.  There's no way you, an insignificant human, can beat me.  I will destroy you and your entire world..." He goes on and on.  How many times have I heard the same types of whispers in my head?  "I can feel you weakening.  I feel your fear.  I am going to win.  There's no way you, an insignificant human, can beat me.  I will bring you down.  I will keep you in despair.  You will never be able to stand up from this..."  It's odd how similar the whispers in the movie are to the whispers we all hear in real life.  And then Hal does something to beat the fear far enough back that he can get out of his crouched position and stand up: he recites the Green Lantern Oath.

In brightest day, in darkest night no evil will escape my sight.
Let those who worship evil's might beware my power...Green Lantern's Light!!

It drowns out the whispers.  It deals a harsh blow to fear.  I have something I say in those moments, too: Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.  Over and over and over again.  It drowns out the whispers.  It helps me stand back up.

Now, I wish I could say that these parallels I found between the movie and my spiritual life were the only reasons I enjoyed the movie - other than pure entertainment, I suppose.  But if I am honest I have to admit they weren't.  So what else could possibly have drawn me into the movie? 

Ryan Reynolds.

Or, more specifically, his tush. 

I know, I know...All that talk about my spiritual life and here I am, admitting that I kept getting distracted during the movie by something as physical and superficial as a nice butt.  So much for keeping my eyes on the prize. 

But, and I may be wrong to think this way, I don't think it's a terrible thing.  I don't necessarily think that it discredits what I said before.  I think it's absolutely amazing and awesome - in the true sense of the word - that we, as humans, are created to have those "higher" and noble emotions and feelings (love) but are also created to have baser and more primal feelings (lust).  And maybe I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that my feelings toward Ryan Reynolds more closely resemble the latter - after all, I haven't met him and I don't actually know anything about him, so there's no way I could love him - but I do think that it was okay for me to send up a silent prayer a few times during the movie.  Lord, thank You for Your amazing creation.  I really appreciate it.  Then I would have to try to bounce my thoughts back to the actual movie. 

So I guess the official answer to the question I asked at the beginning of this post - Am I in love with Ryan Reynolds? - would have to be, "No.  I'm not.  But I really, really appreciate him."  And really, I think that's okay.  After all, I had other things to think about after the movie. 


I kind of love this.  The Oath is part of what makes it so great.


Photo cred unknown.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

In Which I Finally Bake Those Cupcakes...

I've been craving maple-bacon cupcakes lately.  I know - strange, huh?  I'm not sure where I got the idea for it, but I have been really wanting to try it out.  So I thought, and I thought, and I came up with a brilliant plan: I would make them for my dad on Father's Day.  I mean, they have bacon in them.  They are a suitably masculine cupcake, I think.  So I Googled and found recipes for maple cupcakes and maple/bacon buttercream frosting.  I had decided earlier that I would actually write down my grocery list so I wouldn't forget anything.  And then, being me, I promptly decided to ignore that decision.  So, without any list, I headed off to the grocery store. 

I made it through the store with no mishaps, and when I got home I decided to get to it.  After all, I had a deadline.  So I set up my work space and then pondered what music mood I was in.  I wanted something whimsical - we all know how I love whimsy - but not particularly girly.  After all, I was trying to make a "manly" dessert.  After trying a few songs and not feeling that any of them fit my mood I began to be discouraged.  What would be right?  Not Disney - no, as far from "normal" as it is for me to refuse Disney, I couldn't listen to them while baking for my Dad.  Not country - as much as I love it I just didn't feel like it fit the day.  Certainly not The Darkness - this was for my Dad, after all.
I finally settled on music from Glee.  There's a certain whimsy to the songs, but are also easy to sing along to and can keep me motivated to keep going. 

With the music question settled I finally began mixing ingredients.  Flour?  Check.  Baking powder?  Got it.  Salt?  No problem.  Butter?  Just got it.  Brown sugar?  Brown sugar?  Broooowwwnnn....Suuuuugaaarrrr.  Crap.  Alright.  Granulated it is.  What can I add to fix the texture?  Eggs...Another egg?  Nah.  What do I need?  Wait a second.  Why don't I just find a new recipe?  Alright.  Back to the computer. 

Ah ha!  Found a new recipe.  And we're good.  Eggs?  Check.  Vanilla?  Obviously.  Buttermi-Okay.  No buttermilk.  Maybe regular milk instead?  And what else do I have?  Ah ha!  Pancake mix!!  And of course maple syrup. 

Mix it together and voila!!  Maple cupcakes.


And now for the buttercream.  Just a bit of a warning:  this is pretty much a heart attack in frosting form.  And it's insanely sweet.  Just so you know...

This was so simple!  Cream the butter with the sugar.  No worries.  Add the syrup, and the bacon...Is there even any bacon left?  It's possible that I ate it all...Ah!  There are still a few pieces.  Perfect!!  I chopped them up and suddenly realized that I was singing along to "Last Christmas."  My Glee music had played through the normal songs and into the Christmas album.  I hadn't noticed, partly because I love, love, love Christmas music, and partly because the weather had settled into a heavily foggy gloom.  It felt like December.  I paused.  Should I keep it on Christmas music?  Or should I change it?  After a few seconds I decided to actually change it - so I just started the playlist over again.  I'm glad I did: I think they turned out well.

Although, really, I do need to work on my pastry bag technique.
And if you want the recipe, here it is:

Maple Cupcakes
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup butter, room temperature
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup pancake mix
1/2 cup maple syrup

Preheat oven to 350F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners.
In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt.
In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and sugar until light. Beat in eggs, one at a time, followed by vanilla extract. Stir in buttermilk and maple syrup. Gradually blend in the flour mixture, stirring only until batter is just combined and no streaks of dry ingredients remain.
Divide evenly into prepared muffin tin.
Bake for 30 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cakes comes out clean.. Turn cupcakes out on to a wire rack to cool before frosting.
Makes 12 cupcakes.

Maple-Bacon Buttercream
8 ounces (1 cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature
2½ cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 slices of bacon, cooked, cooled and crumbled

To make the frosting, use the whisk attachment of a stand mixer to whip the butter on medium-high speed for about 5 minutes, scraping the bowl as needed. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the powdered sugar a little at a time, waiting until it’s mostly incorporated before adding more. Once all of the powdered sugar has been added, scrape the sides of the bowl and increase the speed to medium-high and whip until fluffy, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the maple syrup and the vanilla and whip for another minute or so to incorporate. Add the bacon and mix to combine. Using an offset spatula, spread the frosting on the cupcakes. Top with additional crumbled bacon if desired.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

"Remember Your Last Name"

When I was in school I took a marriage and family class that was strangely anti marriage and family. It was pure torture to sit through that class, listening to the hateful comments my classmates made and pray that I would forget the things they said. Even the textbook had a pretty strong stance against men. I never understood it. After all, for the complete development of children don't we need both a strong female and male influence? I realize that sometimes this isn't exactly possible. We live in a fallen world, and that shows itself in our broken and hurting relationships. Unfortunately, there are many situations in which mom and/or dad are not able to safely be in the picture. So then the influence comes from outside the home. 

Recognizing this as a sad truth, however, also allows us to recognize the importance of having mom and dad in our lives. It's a situation in which the lack of something proves its importance. In my job I have the opportunity to meet and interact with a lot of fathers. In the course of meeting all these dads I have come to a realization: My dad is pretty special.

It's true! I am so blessed to have a dad like mine.  Let me tell you just some of the things he's done for me through the years.  My dad said my prayer with me most nights until I was in high school, and he woke me up with a song every morning until I left for college.  He made breakfast Monday through Friday, and set out all the vitamins I needed to take.  He played "spy" with me in Costco.  He taught me that it's a good thing to be able to laugh at myself, and at those around me - he taught me to develop and keep my sense of humor.  He explained to me that sometimes all we can do is just "hang on" until things get better.  He let me know that crying is absolutely not a weakness, and is gracious enough to let me get tears and mascara on his shirt.  I will never forget the evening he came and sat next to me on the couch and explained that if that "security guard" at school didn't leave me alone I could stand with him, and my brothers, and my uncles as they talked to him.  He taught me that as much as we hassle and bicker within the family we rally the troops and circle the wagons if someone attacks from outside the family.  We always look out for our crew, regardless of how frustrated we might be with them.  He taught me that following the Lord, while not always easy, is always right, and there are so many ways to experience Him throughout even simple, seemingly mundane things.

My family, like most, has a lot of family lore - stories we pass down through the generations.  There are the funny ones: the ones no one can tell or hear without laughing so hard we can't breathe.  There are the scary ones: the ones no one can hear without thinking, He actually did that???  We have quotes that are passed down and said, sometimes as a joke ("I don't make trash like you; I burn it."), but other times in true seriousness: "Remember your last name." 

Everything we do reflects back on our family.  It doesn't matter whether the people who see us know our parents or not, they will forever associate the Braun name with our actions.  Remember your last name.  Do not forget that you carry with you a heritage of faith, strength, loyalty, goofiness, justice, perseverance, and love.  Remember your last name.  Keep the faith.  And always look out for your crew. 

Yeah.  My dad taught me that.  Happy Father's Day, Daddy.  I love you SO much!!


Just my dad's old practice jersey from college.  I keep it in my room.  It's a constant reminder of all those lessons.  And I LOVE it. 

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

"When Will My Life Begin?"

It's been a while.  I haven't had time to write, or if I have had some time I haven't wanted to.  How horribly childish of me, not doing something because I simply don't feel like it. 

Things haven't been particularly easy lately.  Between getting in a (minor) car accident and having to deal with the hospital, insurance, and a totalled car and working at a job that I am becoming less happy with by the second, I have found myself spending more time in daydreams than in the real world.  Which isn't quite fair, to be honest.  A lot of good things have happened lately.  I wasn't seriously injured in the car accident.  My brother and sister-in-law graciously lent me their car to drive around while we wait for the verdict on mine.  I am the excited auntie of 2 newborns - Michael Jonathan and Lucy Rose - who are both so beautiful it hurts.  I've started working out again (finally).  I have made the decision to go back to school in the fall and pursue a different line of work altogether. 

Many, many good things have been happening.

It's no secret that I adore all things Disney.  My latest love has been, unsurprisingly, Tangled.  Now, if you have about an hour and a half I can tell you some of the reasons why I love the movie, but for the sake of time I will just mention one:  I love the music.  I have the soundtrack and have been flip-flopping between it and the Bruno Mars CD for about a month, now.  The other day I was singing along and - to my complete surprise - I started crying.  I laughed at myself for being a sap, and went about the rest of my day.  When I got back in the car that evening and started singing along I cried again.  And again the next day, and the next, until finally I got tired of crying and changed back to Bruno.  Obviously I was curious as to why I cried.  And one afternoon after a particularly trying work situation I realized what it was: Rapunzel asks this question: "When will my life begin?" 

I have always asked myself that question.  I have always felt as though right now I am idling - warming up the car, if you will - and when I finally meet that Someone I will be ready to start the journey.  Life will begin.  Gosh, how embarrassing to see that written on the screen.  But as much as I know it isn't true, as many times as Mimi told me to disregard the song "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You," I haven't quite bought into it. 

There is a part of me that is missing.  It's hard to describe - it isn't a part of me that is necessary for survival, but I feel its blankness.  And as much as I hate to admit it I lie in bed at night and stare at the moon and feel so lonely I ache.  I've always felt that loneliness is the trickiest emotion.  I fully believe that we, as humans, are never truly alone, yet we can be tricked into believing we are.  And romantic loneliness - that's the worst kind.  With other types I can pray, call a friend, send a text.  I feel better for a while and eventually the ickiness goes away.  But with this, the knowledge that I am by myself in my twin bed, that my entire body is crying out to be held and hugged and cherished, takes over and that missing piece of me starts to throb.  I watch as family and friends celebrate joyful events in their lives - their little families are growing - and feel such extreme joy for them until the lights turn off.  Suddenly their joy is a strange mirror, showing me what I don't have.  Luckily, with the rising of the sun the mirror hides and I feel only the joy again.

It's amazing what the sun can make clear.  When I finally admitted to myself that I have been waiting for life to begin instead of actually living it my eyes were opened to a lot.  I have built myself a tower and trapped myself in it.  I have been involved with kids in some way since I was 15 (well, younger, really, but for our purposes we'll just say 15).  I am good at working with kids.  I get kids.  And I love them: I have a heart for the little ones.  But with each job in childcare, teaching, whatever, I have put another brick into building my tower.  And suddenly I looked out from this confining, if somewhat comfortable, place and realized that while I have wanted to try something else for years I have been too afraid.  I've been afraid to leave the tower.  After I'm married, I've thought, when there will be someone to catch me if I fall.

Maybe I don't have Flynn Rider as a guide to my world outside the tower, but I am going to leave it regardless.  It's possible that I'll fall flat on my face.  But really, I've got my family keeping me upright.  I have my friends catching me when I trip.  And maybe my life isn't what I was hoping it would be at this point.  But it's life.  And life is for living.  Life is for grabbing with two hands and getting what you can out of it, while still giving what you can into it and other people, until we come to our next Life.  I am not going to say I won't be lonely, I can feel the familar ache beginning now as I start to think about getting ready for bed, but at least I won't be thinking the car is idling when really it's on the move. 

Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Case of the Invisible Mother

A few week's ago, at my sister's baby shower, I heard a story read about a mother who was suffering from a common problem (or I believe it to be common): the case of the Invisible Mother.  This mother went on to say that she had found peace from a book a friend had given to her about the great cathedrals in Europe.  In the story the (childless) friend had said that this mother reminded her of the builders of the great cathedrals.  No one knows their names, no one knows anything about who they were, but they built amazing places that to this day bring glory to God and wonder to people.  The "invisible" mother had found some comfort: she was building cathedrals for God through her children, even if no one noticed her work and sacrifice. 

I have been thinking about this ever since.  See, I know my mom suffers from Invisible Mother Syndrome.  Sometimes we talk about it - more often we don't - and I know there are so many times when a "thank you" or "I love you" would have gone a long way but instead I ran out the door with a "good-bye!" or an "I'll see you later." 

My mom and I have had our share of conflicts.  After all, don't all mothers and daughters feel frustrated with each other at some point or another?  But to be honest with you, I have far more good memories than bad with my mama.  Sure, maybe we argued the morning I was moving to college, but didn't she cry harder than I did when we said goodbye at my dorm room door?  And maybe I felt frustrated that she didn't seem to understand why I was so upset with my professor, but when the letter from home came a couple days later in the mail it was just what I needed.  Moms usually do know just what we need, don't they?

And when I think of how my mom must feel invisible so much of the time, it blows my mind.  Because to me, you see, she is very visible.  Every time my older sisters sing I hear Mama's voice.  When my brothers (and sisters, for that matter) talk about the desire for justice, I hear Mama's words.  When Ginny and Timmy talk about "my Jesus," or sing Gospel songs in the car - well that's Mama for you, right there.  My sister holding her arms out to those in need: Mama.  The random fascination with kind of gross, but really cool, medical issues or injuries: Mama.  Heck!  The pure stubbornness that I know has gotten my siblings and me through tough times that would otherwise be impossible to deal with...That's my mom, right there.  The heart for those who need a little extra love.  Well, that's my mama, too.



Let me tell you why I love this picture: It isn't because it's good of me (it's not).  It's because in it are 12 people who adore my mom and don't see her as being invisible at all - whether we say it or not.  You can see her smile on all of our faces.


Invisible?  No...I see her clearly everyday.  I feel her expressions on my face.  I hear her tones in my voice.  And that is an extraordinary thing, because as those of you who know my mom can attest to, my mom is a pretty extraordinary person.  And even though the lines of the song below are written for a Mama and a Daddy (and I have amazing love and respect for my Daddy, too), today I want to send them out to Mama.  Because when I heard this song the other day my mind shot straight to you.  I love you.

Excerpted from Heroes by The Isaacs:

"...Those who sacrifice to raise a child that's not their own.
They dedicate their time to make a difference in someone else's life.
And in my eyes

"He's a hero and she's a hero
It doesn't matter that nobody knows their name.
They keep on giving to make life worth living
It might go unnoticed, but they're heroes just the same.

"They might go unnoticed, but they're heroes."


Happy Mother's Day, Mama!!!  I love you.

Friday, April 1, 2011

A Dream Is A Song You Can Fly Under the Sea...

A couple weeks ago, as I was driving to work, I turned on the radio and listened to the DJs chattering on about the usual nonsense.  On this particular morning they were talking about Miley and Billy Ray Cyrus and whatever it is that's going on with them.  I was just about to change the station when one of the DJs said - and I quote - "It's just one more thing to blame Disney on." 

I have to admit I was offended. 

Not only did the guy choose to end his sentence with a preposition, but anyone who knows anything about me knows that I LOVE Disney.  As a result of this DJ's comment I spent the day thinking about how much I have actually learned from Disney.  So here it is:

- No matter how tough things get, keep faith!  It will end.  Good things are on their way!
"Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.  No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing the dream that you wish will come true." - Cinderella


Things seemed to turn out alright for her, didn't they?

Don't let yourself get overwhelmed by the task at hand!  Even though there may be a lot to do, sometimes we just need to roll up our sleeves and get down to it.  Or call our animal friends to come help us.  (And music helps, too!)
"When you've got too much to do don't let it trouble you.  Forget your worries, try to be just like a cheerful chickadee." - Snow White
"...Cleaning crud up in the kitchen as we sing along..." - Enchanted
"In every job that must be done there is an element of fun.  You find the fun and *snap!* the job's a game.  And every task you undertake becomes a piece of cake.  A lark, a spree..." - Mary Poppins

- Good thoughts really do lift us up. 
"Think of a wonderful thought, any happy little thought....All it takes is faith and trust, plus a little Pixie Dust!  Now kiss the ground good-bye: You can fly!  You can fly!  You can fly!" - Peter Pan
"With a smile and a song, life is just like a bright, sunny day.  Your cares fade away and your heart is young." - Snow White

- Never, ever, under any circumstance trust any creepy, old woman (or man...or animal, for that matter) who has ever been know be vindictive and/or wield magic.  (Cheerful, helpful fairy godmothers are obviously exempt from this rule.)
No quote necessary...The Little Mermaid, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Tangled, 101 Dalmatians, Cinderella...Do I really need to go on?

Trustworthy-looking bunch, don't you think?


- Listen to your conscience.  Pretty simple, huh?
"Always let your conscience be your guide." - Pinocchio

- True beauty is on the inside.  We shouldn't allow a person's looks to dictate how we view them, because looks really can be deceiving. 
Really, was I the only person paying attention during "Beauty and the Beast"?


Can we all just agree that the Beast is somehow more attractive as a Beast than as a prince? 

- Remember that someone out there is waiting for you...Whether that "someone" is a parent, a friend, a lover.  Someone out there is loving and waiting for each of us.
"Be brave, Little One, make a wish on each sad, little tear.  Hold your head up: though no one is near, someone's waiting for you." - The Rescuers
"Someday my prince will come..." - Snow White

- Sometimes it seems as though we are alone, but we aren't.  Look to the stars when you feel sad.  It helps to put things in perspective, and remind us that there is a great plan for us, and our dreams can actually come true.
"The second star to the right shines in the night for you, to tell you that the dreams you plan really do come true." - Peter Pan
"If your heart is in your dreams no request is too extreme, when you wish upon a star as dreamers do...Like a bolt out of the blue, Fate [read: God] steps in and sees you through..." - Pinocchio

The second star to the right and straight on till morning...


Really, there have been a lot of pretty big lessons I've learned from Disney.  I'm sure more will come in the future (because, let's be honest here: I still watch - and LOVE - Disney movies). 




All photo and lyric credits go to Disney.  Really.  I didn't make any of it up myself.  They are brilliant, are they not?