The purple towel...
When I was 4 years old the television series Batman ran every afternoon on our local television station. Since we moved around a lot and were never allowed out of our yard, my playmates were limited to my siblings, primarily my older brother, who was 6 to my 4. Every afternoon we would sprawl on the floor of his room to watch Batman on a small black and white television set. Then, every afternoon and the next morning, we would pretend to be the caped crusaders.
For our capes we used towels. Whoever got the purple towel got to be Batman. I only remember getting the purple towel once...I always had a red towel and had to be Robin (I was seriously thrilled when Batgirl was introduced later).
This was one of those stories that I carried around with me. It's a cute story on the surface, but there's a lot of resentment with it, too; sibling rivalry, my mother's open preference for my brother, sexism, exclusion. And I am ashamed to say I fed the dark part of it, made it something uglier than it is until somebody told me it wasn't too late, I could make this better if I chose to make it better, I could heal it, get over it, deal with it if I wanted to. I could choose to understand that we were kids, it was a game and everybody was doing the best that they could do. I could choose to forgive and to let go.
I could have a purple towel now, even if I couldn't then.
That set me back. Because, at first, I didn't want to let it go. It was my wound. My cancer. It was mine, mine, all mine and I wasn't going to let it go. In time, I began to understand that if I wanted to grow I had to grow past what I perceived as slights and hurts. The only way to heal anything for me is to let it go.
I decided I wanted a purple towel. I was active about the forgiveness process, I was active in attempting to understand and feel compassion.
So, I've been looking...literally for decades...for a purple towel. Now, there are plenty of purple towels in the world, but a lot of them are lavender. Or some weird purple-gray. It wasn't like I was on Quest for Towel, just, if I was in a store with a linens department, I looked.
Yesterday, quite serendipitously, guess what I found?
I think I'll go fight some crime...
Forty-five years later and I FINALLY know where my towel is.
Hope you're having an amazing Sunday and you have something that is bringing you joy no matter how little or how belated.
As for me? My cup runneth over.
Peace.
For our capes we used towels. Whoever got the purple towel got to be Batman. I only remember getting the purple towel once...I always had a red towel and had to be Robin (I was seriously thrilled when Batgirl was introduced later).
This was one of those stories that I carried around with me. It's a cute story on the surface, but there's a lot of resentment with it, too; sibling rivalry, my mother's open preference for my brother, sexism, exclusion. And I am ashamed to say I fed the dark part of it, made it something uglier than it is until somebody told me it wasn't too late, I could make this better if I chose to make it better, I could heal it, get over it, deal with it if I wanted to. I could choose to understand that we were kids, it was a game and everybody was doing the best that they could do. I could choose to forgive and to let go.
I could have a purple towel now, even if I couldn't then.
That set me back. Because, at first, I didn't want to let it go. It was my wound. My cancer. It was mine, mine, all mine and I wasn't going to let it go. In time, I began to understand that if I wanted to grow I had to grow past what I perceived as slights and hurts. The only way to heal anything for me is to let it go.
I decided I wanted a purple towel. I was active about the forgiveness process, I was active in attempting to understand and feel compassion.
So, I've been looking...literally for decades...for a purple towel. Now, there are plenty of purple towels in the world, but a lot of them are lavender. Or some weird purple-gray. It wasn't like I was on Quest for Towel, just, if I was in a store with a linens department, I looked.
Yesterday, quite serendipitously, guess what I found?
I think I'll go fight some crime...
Forty-five years later and I FINALLY know where my towel is.
Hope you're having an amazing Sunday and you have something that is bringing you joy no matter how little or how belated.
As for me? My cup runneth over.
Peace.