Archive | December 2017

A History Lesson: Moveable Framework

One week ago, I had a comfortable job in a comfortable office for a comfortable 8 hours a day.  I had a routine and an alarmingly predictable schedule.

I had no idea what would be in store as I accepted a brand new job in a beautifully aged place.  It’s a palace of sorts full of little girls twirling in their fanciest dresses and couples walking hand in hand with tickets in the other for a night on the town.

The new office was built in 1928 and stuffed full of historic stage pieces, giant levers used to power what were once the most modern fixtures of the time in a basement I have yet to visit alone.  It has soaring rafters and drapes heavier than a semi held up by what I now know are “stage weights”.


This city was experiencing all of the thrills and struggles of the Roaring Twenties just as I had with mine.  It was young and still figuring it out.  The wonder and grandeur of the theater drew people in from all directions.

Today, I learned that the curve along the back wall of my office wasn’t created to be aesthetically pleasing.  It was created as a route for the African American community of the 1920s and 1930s to enter and exit away from the rest of the crowd.  It was a passageway created to segregate.  Throughout the decades, this wall has been transformed and painted and refinished eight layers deep.  Now it serves as the backdrop of my yet-to-be-painted office and I’m sitting exactly where all of the boundaries had once been pushed.

There is something immensely unique about this place left unseen by any guest out for a night.  It’s where hundreds of people have passed through the door of a creaky backstage dock.  They were there to share their talent.  They were rock bands and acting troupes, comedians, and dancers.  They were who someone wanted to be someday.  Some were nervous.  Some were naturally comfortable.  Each one of them, though, was there for a reason;  To transform into the person of their dreams the moment they stepped ahead of the curtain.  To do that, they had to push forward through the heaviest doors with the shakiest hands.

These doors are weathered and worn just as they were.  These doors kept opening to new possibilities just as they had.


We all begin somewhere.


Keep The Change: Rest Through Restoration

FullSizeRenderMy friends and family heard me yesterday.  The weight of my purse was considerably lighter as the weight of losing my belongings pressed heavily on my shoulders.  But they heard me.
After losing my wallet, I went into a mode of repair I haven’t seen for a while.  Calmly, I listed everything that was in it along with contact information and logins to protect what was now lost.  It was a process made easier by precautions taken in previous years after having not only my purse, but everything in it stolen before.  I was relieved to know that everything aside from the birthday cash could be secured and replaced.
Throughout the day, I checked in with anyone who might have seen it.  I received phone calls offering help and anything to ease my worries.  I heard jokes and reassurance.  I heard empathy and support.  Somehow, the missing items no longer bothered me aside from the hassle of replacing them.
My people restored my faith in the power of compassion.  Instead of burying myself in a mountain of dismay, I got to be consistently reminded of who I have and how I have them.  I am eternally grateful.
Last night, I received a message from a restaurant letting me know someone had found and turned in my wallet.  I had called them twice throughout the day just to hear regretfully that no one had seen it.  Finally, someone showed up.  I immediately left to retrieve it finding every bit of what I’d left in tact.  Thank you to the kind people of Wheat State in Old Town.  (Try them!  They’re wonderful!!)
I was shocked but ultimately just peaceful.  I realize it’s just one bundle of belongings and it was just one day of worry.  But it unveiled so much of what I needed to see again lately.
I get to keep the change when it could have gone to anyone.  I get to figure out how to make sure someone else gets to feel this relief somehow.  Mostly, I get to move forward knowing that someone else wanted to do the same.
I have needed peace more than ever lately as I navigate yet another (particularly BIG)  interlude in the life and times of Darah Jewell.  It turns out, I needed to feel loss in order to feel restoration.
If you hurt, you can figure out how to change it.
If you’re ok, you can figure out how to change it for someone else.
If you feel loss, you can watch for who changes you.
Losing my change has encouraged me to keep mine happening.
Thank you sincerely, Universe.