Cinderelly

It's funny how motherhood changes you. In some ways I feel that I have gotten harder in a sense. Things don't bother me as much; I'm not as particular. I never thought the day would come when I could pull off having short hair and not showering and styling it every morning, but that day ended up dawning a while back now. (There is no way I'm going to make myself too fancy when the day involves dishes, laundry, blocks, and searching 17 times for the "other one Barbie" that is needed to go to sleep.) But in so many other ways I am more tender, the tears are closer, and my sense of love is more acute. I suppose this is why we are divinely directed to parent in whatever means our situation allows as it helps us to clear away the clutter of what's not important and focus on what actually is.

I bring this all up because over the past week or so, Evie, true to her love of princesses, has become enchanted with the movie Cinderella. How could she not? It is a classic. So we've watched it several times lately, and I am amazed at how the story pulls at my heartstrings so much more now than it did when I was a child. How I want to cry when she's there washing the floor to the tune of "Sing Sweet Nightingale."

When I watched this movie in the past, I was always the most bothered, of course, by Lucifer, the cat. How could you not be? I mean his name alone heralds his evil role in the whole plot. But what has interested me is that what bothers me most in watching this movie as an adult is not the cat, nor even the step-mother. What has been most difficult to bear is the scene where Cinderella must escape from the ball.

After years of heartache and disappointment and toil, finally, finally she finds a place where she is meant to be. Where she belongs, where she is seen and appreciated for her innately good qualities. As she and the prince sing, "So this is love. So this is love. So this is what makes life divine...and now I know the key to all heaven is mine." It is so beautiful. And then, the clock begins to strike and Cinderella has no choice but to run from this wonderful place.

Do you remember this scene? She runs and the prince begins to panic. "Where are you going? I don't even know your name, how will I find you?!" The music escalates as she dashes to her pumpkin carriage where her coachman frantically waves to her that they must leave. The duke, under orders from the king to make sure this beautiful maiden stays with the prince, begins screaming desperately to close the gates, to keep her inside. Black royal coaches and horses dash forth trying to keep up with the fleeing party and prevent losing the girl who has won the prince's heart. It is a scene of gut-wrenching desperation. She doesn't even make it all the way home before the magic fades, her gown evaporated and turned back to her rags, the pumpkin smashed to pieces by the hooves of royal horses now searching in vain.

As I have watched this scene with Evie a number of times now, and every time felt myself close to tears, I have begun to wonder why about my emotional response and got to pondering. 

And this is what I have realized.

In a sense, each of us here in mortality is like Cinderella. We are meant to take our places with the royal and great. Each one of us merits belonging, recognition, and love. We all are meant to live with the true divine King, our Heavenly Father, who loves us and desires us to make our home with Him. So when we come to that knowledge, when we gain testimonies, when we begin to sense who we really are, it must feel exactly like that scene to our Heavenly Father when we choose to run away who we are meant to be. This is what sinning is. It is making a knowing choice, for whatever reason, to leave safety. To leave home. To leave the security of being in a place of love and acceptance and choosing a path that will lead to loneliness and ruin. The duke, in essence, becomes like the Savior and the voices of the prophets. Don't escape! Close those gates! Stay here where it is safe! Stay here where we need you and want you and recognize you for your innate goodness! 

However, I suppose If Cinderella had just gone to the ball, married the Prince, and never returned to where she had been it wouldn't feel quite so satisfying as the way it really happens. It would have been nice if she could have just escaped, sure. But somehow when you see where she was, and then you see what she could have...why her return to it becomes so much more deplorable. So much more miserable. You become absolutely determined that she must, she MUST return to the palace, for how could she possibly carry on as the servant girl when she so clearly is meant to be a queen? Every time I watch it I still feel frantic as Gus and Jack, the faithful little mice, carry that enormous key up those many flights of stairs. I worry every time that they won't make it. That the duke will leave. That someone else with size 2 feet will get to try on the slipper and it will fit. 

Hence it is beautiful and emotive every time she emerges as the top of the stairs calling, "Your Grace! Please! May I try it on?"

I am grateful for the things I learn each day about repentance and change. How Heavenly Father teaches me in new ways--like through Disney movies!--about why I must cling to the commandments, to the Gospel, to my testimony. It is reassuring to feel that if I ever make mistakes or stray from where I'm meant to be that someone will be looking for me, will call me back, will desire me home. The royal coaches will be sent out after me and someone will try to close the gates in time before all ends in utter sadness. It is wonderful to know too though that if things really don't work out, that the truth will still come knocking and that chances will remain to return to where I am meant to be. 

For this is love. And this is what makes life...divine.

Thoughts of Thursday, July 11, 2013: On Correction

So, I love cooking shows. They are excellent late-night companions when Eliza and I are up hanging out in the wee hours. Last week, after the recommendation of a friend, I watched a pretty interesting one that has had me thinking ever since I saw it.

The show I watched was an episode of "Kitchen Nightmares" with Gordon Ramsey. The premise of the show is that Gordon--a famous chef and TV personality with multiple successful and Michelin-starred restaurants--goes to some restaurant that is in dire straits and helps them turn it all around. There can be drama with the food, the atmosphere, the staff, what have you. At the beginning, the audience gets a feel for the problems in the restaurant, and then Gordon comes in. At first he tries out a bunch of things from the menu and makes observations, and then he tells them what's wrong with their restaurant and starts in with an action plan to fix it. Part of the reason the show is entertaining is because Gordon Ramsey has a very intense personality--he can sound extremely critical, but ultimately, he does know his stuff.

Last week I watched an episode that featured a restaurant in Arizona. It was run by a couple who had put it together since it was always the wife's dream to own her own restaurant. The restaurant outwardly looked fine, and they even kept a clean kitchen (which is not always the case on the show), but there were big problems not only with the meals the restaurant was putting out but also the way the couple were interacting with their staff and customers. It was outrageous! The wife, who was the main chef, would send out food that was under-cooked or bad in some way, and then if there were any complaints from the customers, they would get told off by her and husband. They'd yell, "Fine! You don't like it? Leave! Don't you ever come back here!" At the beginning of the show, you even saw this guy who had been waiting for a pizza for over an hour come up to complain, and the owner completely freaked out at him--yelling and carrying on, and they almost got into a fight. Literally the Kitchen Nightmares cameraman had to intervene--you could see him out there mediating with all his tech equipment on. It was crazy. The restaurant had gone through more than 100 staff members in a year from the crazy way they would interact with their waiters too, not letting them keep tips, and firing them at the tiniest miscommunication.

So Gordon Ramsey comes in there, and at first everything seems good. They are pleasant with him. He sits down and orders a bunch of things from the menu to try and chats with the waitress. Things progress though--everything he tries is disgusting and he learns that about the waitress's bad deal working there. But then he tries to go and talk to the owner couple about it and it is INSANE. The wife especially absolutely REFUSES to believe or listen to anything that Ramsey is telling her. Gordon says, "The pizza crust I tried was completely raw," and she's like, "You're wrong! You're crazy! People say that is the BEST PIZZA they have ever eaten!!" She just goes on and on and on. Gordon observes the dinner rush, and is appalled by the nasty food they are sending out, talks with the customers about their bad experiences, etc. He tells the couple that he wants to meet with them again the next day. But when he comes in, the couple seriously has both guns BLAZING. It is awful! They just yell and carry on about how Gordon's wrong, how all the restaurant critics are wrong, how all the customers are wrong, how all the restaurant critics are wrong and how everyone is out to get them. They absolutely REFUSE to take any form of criticism.

It gets so bad--they are literally so charged and indignant--that finally Gordon Ramsey just leaves. He's like, "obviously I can't do anything here" and he's gone. It's the first time in over 100 episodes that he's had to quit on the restaurant. And the show just ended after you watch his crew take down all the cameras and Gordon gives a little spiel about what a waste it all is.

So that really got me thinking a lot.

Here was a couple that had the chance to have their restaurant helped and improved by GORDON RAMSEY. And really not only Gordon, but his team of helper people who come in and help do up the restaurant. The guy has MICHELIN STARS. He is the main judge on MASTERCHEF. He has MULTIPLE cooking shows. He has turned around over 100 restaurants that were going down the drain. Yet this couple, due to their absolute refusal to accept any form of criticism, misses out on that incredible opportunity. They could have become wildly successful, but they just can't take a few minutes of him pointing out the weaknesses in their food and their operations.

The general principles here are ones I want to remember. I know that I am not very good at taking criticism. Whenever people point out my flaws, I become very defensive and take things very personally. I certainly don't lash out in the way this couple did, but normally I inwardly resent criticism and consider reasons why the person giving it to me is "wrong." I'm probably not alone on this. I want to learn though to change my perspective though and remember this couple. Instead of just focusing on the hurt of the criticism, I want to remember that criticism is given so that the person can see how they can improve and become better. How sad would it be to miss out on the opportunity to learn from someone like Gordon Ramsey and become a master at something simply because it was too hard to take a little criticism at the start.

Life lessons a la Kitchen Nightmares.