A few years ago, I joined my mom and her friends for a ridiculously early breakfast, which always turns into a three hour morning of catch up. They asked me, around four cups of coffee in, who do you consider your hero? Children look up to sports figures, we often look up to friends and family members in our lifetime, but who do you consider a role model in your life?
Several months before that, I haphazardly typed words into a template, hoping to find my niche. Trying to express how I feel while motivate myself to find something better in the day-to-day. I stumbled upon a link that someone tried to sell as a religious or political message. It wasn't that. It was a link to all of those things I just talked about, with exception to the Labrador part. It was a link to a lesson about life.
I didn't know the outcome. I knew as soon as I saw her too. I didn't know anything about the author or her family. Nothing about her story or anything that had happened prior to this post.
And yet. I think she made us feel that way. I remember Sweet Disposition was playing in the background as I read, because playlist.com use to be really easy to use back then. It was all so refreshing, even though it was laced with heartbreak and tears. It was refreshing because it was honest. And that's what I liked best.
Fast forward to April, when this online world of the color yellow, scrunchy baby leg warmers, a good cup of coffee in the perfect mug, spontaneous ocean excursions, Fall freak flags, celebrations as small as a certain magazine coming in the mail to full circle in a delivery room, sunset silhouettes, chickens and cats on streets, picnics in Central Park with maryjane clad babies, Ingrid Michaelson lip syncing, fairy parties, $100,000 raised, $200,000 raised, duel blogging in Montana (this was my hands down favorite) all came into print, I just knew, I just knew it had to be shouted from the rooftops.
So, I rearranged the front table at B&N every chance I could get. Bought a special copy for the girl who was my "net" this last year. Shared on instagram, on twitter, on facebook.
And threw a Bloom party.
A simple party of eight. An afternoon of food, laughter, tears, stories, and enjoying the small things.
Ok, let me get the food part out of the way, because I rocked that. Then, I'll get back to the point.
If you have not had the combination of watermelon, grilled shrimp, prosciutto, grapefruit juice, red onion, and feta, you need to make that happen.
A half an hour before the guests arrived, I hurriedly scribbled discussion questions down on yellow paper. We passed a vase around the table and shared. Everyone picked the question that seemed to be meant for them, I'm not sure how, but it happened that way.
And of course, there were bucket lists.
Can you tell that's mine?
One shared her bucket list, filled with adventures that many of us were too scared to even think of. She spoke of the daughter she lost, who was never afraid of anything, who's hair had been every shade of the rainbow, who brought so much laughter and greatness into this world. On her bucket list, skydiving was absent because she did that last week. Her daughter, who was never afraid of anything, was a constant reminder to live larger, live louder, and to not be afraid of jumping.
Another shared that her granddaughter was her inspiration. And that she would like to meet Hugh Jackman someday. That was followed with a collaborative amen.
Some spoke of heartache, of losing family from illness or anger. How they have moved on in their life, making sure not to repeat the same behaviors, and to use it as a reminder to practice love. One mentioned how a divorce was devastating, but out of those ashes rose a new love, a new family, a new lease on life.
Others, started and stopped when tears filled their eyes. Tears of happiness, tears of loss, tears for the grateful moments that they couldn't express. We all understood. We all had a moment like that.
Together, several shared the story of one who could not attend the party due to prior obligations. But, this book really meant the world to her. Twenty five years ago, she had a baby prematurely after a horrible birthing experience. They didn't know if he was going to make it, or if he was going to be healthy. The cord wrapped around his neck three times, the doctors were sure he was going to be brain dead. She had a 18 month at home, a husband at a brand new job, and a newborn with third degree burns around his neck from that tight cord, so deep he still has scars. He is healthy. He is perfect. He is thriving. But the experience of that birth, of those six months in the NICU, of having to hire a nanny because you were on bedrest an hour away because you started contractions at 20 weeks, so severe that a nurse put a fist inside of you to stop the baby from coming as fast as he did, all of that was still so fresh.
She said this book was cathartic for her.
That after 25 years, it gave her closure.
That Nella's story, was Josh's story.
Kelle's story was her own.
As if she was meant to read this book.
It healed her.
I threw a Bloom party because I sobbed reading this book. I threw a Bloom party because each new post is like that little piece of dark chocolate you're suppose to treat yourself to each day. I threw a Bloom party because I was this depressed twenty something, searching for a better life, eager to learn how to connect with this world and make something of my soul.
I threw a Bloom party because we have this one, wild and precious life.
If you google Kelle Hampton, it takes you to her site. And it takes you to negative blogs written by people who seem to need to write about why they wouldn't be her friend, or how her life is fabricated, or just plain annoying. They pop up because her fans have defended her. I was going to title this "In defense of Kelle Hampton", but that's fuelling the fire. We shouldn't give light to that negativity. We shouldn't acknowledge that kind of behavior, because that's not what we're about.
Maybe they just don't understand it all. Or maybe they don't need her inspiration yet.
I threw a Bloom party because this life is not about religion, politics, mudslinging, gossiping, climbing the ladder, out-earning, winning, crossing things off lists, or the next best thing. It is about the here and now. It is about being your best self. It is about inspiring others to be their best self. How can I change your life and how can you change mine? What can I help you with and how can you be there for me? This life is about sharing our stories, focusing on the beauty around us, learning from the lessons that we will face, loving yourself and those you get to meet. It is about turning a disappointment into a challenge, and from a challenge into a blessing.
There are few things that I believe in.
Kelle Hampton is one of them.
I think what all the nay-sayers are missing the most important lesson from Kelle Hampton: Honesty. With yourself and others. Her blog, book, opionions, etc arent' for everyone - not even for me. But what I was touched by was her saying exactly how she felt, no matter how touchy the subject. Especially as a woman these days, when they're too busy pretending they're holding it all together perfectly, or they're overthinking in their heads instead of just saying it so you can deal together and move on. The unsaid grievances, annoyance, hurt, etc. cause even more issues and distances between people and within ourselves.
ReplyDeleteIt's the simplest lesson from her I thought.