I had to take a personal day from work today. It’s was a tough call. I’m flowing love to my team today. I do not like letting you down. You are so incredibly gracious. I’m grateful and honored to work with you rock stars of memory and quick, positive service. Some of the most brilliant minds for memorization and detail are on the front end of #WFMArroyo (Whole Foods Market). I do NOT include myself in that description as I seem a bit inept at learning the produce codes. People ARE so patient, truly. Almost always. Customers, co-workers, and leadership have shown me so much grace as I find my way as an artist in Los Angeles.
The employees at #WFMArroyo are C R E A T I V E and S U P P O R T I V E. There is LOVE in the house there. I do feel it palpably at times. We all have our struggles, wins and losses. I work with WARRIORS who serve with a smile. They inspire me. Even as I’ve been in bed ALL day. Finally getting enough energy to get up, out and into the day. #LifeWithLeela, #ItsAJourney.
Today I was a bit overwhelmed with work from my second job and a feeling of sleep depravation. Narcolepsy. Awesome. I don’t want to be Debbie Downer. I do not enjoy hanging out with Debbie Downers. So I don’t like having to admit that sometimes, I struggle with some pretty heavy duty depression. Like, seriously, Leela… GET OUT OF THE BED!! But today I let myself stay in it and feel restored. Rest is a miracle. And some quality alone time to nurture the heart can feel like it’s erasing 5 years of stress.
I am learning to navigate my new life with more GRACE and skill… but find myself a bit clumsy in the transition. I still have a a significant chunk of work to do today, but wanted to quickly check in to say I am I N S P I R E D and writing, W O R K I N G, doing my best to catch a tailwind.
I just came across the images at the bottom of this post and had the thought, “Oh yeah. I remember when that was me. An ambitious afternoon radio personality, fortunate enough to attend the speech and press room for then Senator Obama’s campaign stop in Portland. I still have the audio file on an old recorder. I MUST find a way to retrieve that file. I need to compare the tape to my memory. My heart was pounding. I was terrified. I did not feel worthy to be in the press core.
But I stopped him in his tracks. He had taken his last question and had made it a halfway across the stage on his exit when I finally worked up the guts to shout over the clicks and questions and heart pounding FEAR, in my most clear and cut-through-the-noise-voice, something like this, “SENATOR OBAMA, THE DALI LAMA IS CRYING OUT FOR HELP and support around the atrocities being inflicted on Tibet by the Chinese government. As President of The United States, what message would you send to China and world leaders about where the United States stands on the issue of human rights?”
He was leaving. And he stopped. He returned to the podium to answer MY question. That happened. My QUESTION made now President Barack Hussein Obama II stop, turn around, and return to the podium. He hadn’t even seen me. It was the passion in my voice. He must have felt my sense of urgency in the matter, because I LOVE The DL. He brought Darfur in western Sudan into the conversation. I was glad he did. His answer was safe. He was wise, I remember thinking, in how he handled the China question. Smart. I liked him. I was elated when he won.
My mom was there in Portland, Oregon that day, visiting from Texas. Sitting right next to me in the press room. How did THAT happen? But so cool that it did. I’m so glad she got to see me in my terrified power, feeling FEAR but shouting out anyway. That day, I was WONDER WOMAN, and I was so proud of myself. And Mom was proud of me too. And I was proud of her for being there and staying open despite our not always agreeing political views at the time. It was a good day.
This memory helps me touch that part of me that runs toward personal fear and boundary breaking expression, as I navigate some fear this day, but show up for Life anyway.
Thanks for caring. Thanks for being here.
xo – Leela