Gratitude and Baldness

April 2008

A giant, pink, fluffy “Thank you!!” for your tremendous outpouring of support, encouragement and delight for my workshop and website!!! I am having great fun as my inner inspired teacher takes another step onto the public stage. Please continue to let me know how I’ve inspired you and how you’d like more!

My family shaved our heads this week. Some of you may be thinking I’ve completely lost it, while others know I lost it awhile ago! My husband Roger, Blake (4), Grant (2) and I all shaved our noggins in preparation for a photo shoot for St. Baldrick’s Foundation -- the world's largest volunteer-driven fundraising event for childhood cancer research. The Foundation asked us to do the photo shoot after seeing Grant’s photo as one of the honored children for the fundraising event held at Helen Fitzgerald’s here in St. Louis in March 2008. We’ve found a very strong connection to this organization, so we gladly agreed to participate. Plus, professional pics of the Bald Bautista Family will be treasured family heirlooms, I’m sure. http://kellyparkphoto.blogspot.com/

What has struck me since then is the power of our action and the equal and sometimes opposite reaction. The action itself has been a huge life lesson for our four-year-old, Blake. He’s learning what being a leader truly means. It is not about how fast he runs, or scoring more points, or having an arbitrary title bestowed on his head for a day. It’s about stepping forward to do what is right. It’s about stepping outside the box and making an impactful statement for a good cause. It’s about acting with love.

On the other hand, I was saddened by the reaction of one of Blake’s little friends. When she saw our hair (or lack thereof), a confused look of disgust come across her sweet innocent face. My heart sank in recognition of what just happened. Society’s view of what is right for women (and perhaps men) had already programmed her response. I sent a little prayer that she and so many others in our world today begin to see that being a woman is not about the length of my hair, the height of my heels, the length of my skirt or the color of my clothes. It is something that comes from deep within. It’s a God-given source of calmness in my heart, fluid creativity flowing from my pen and warm love filling my soul.

The Original Pink Tutu Story

-- March 2008

Many of you are likely wondering “What’s up with all this tutu stuff?” For those of you who know me, this is likely a perplexing image, as I am anything but dainty. Or frilly.

It all began with the little girl in the McDonald’s ad. You may have seen it…the little girl couldn’t be more than five-years-old, running playfully away from the camera toting a box full of yummy delight and wearing a fluffy pink tutu. The image stopped me in my tracks.

The image reminded me of the carefree, blissful moments of yesterday….pretending my bed was a stage while I danced for hours wearing one of my many tutus. It reminded me of summer road trips to Michigan for our family vacation. A lunch stop at McDonald’s was always one of the highlights.

How I longed for those simple pleasures – not only the childhood joy that comes from a box containing a cheeseburger, French fries and a little toy, but more significantly the freedom and playfulness which comes from wearing whatever I want, wherever I go and not worrying for a second if it is appropriate or makes someone laugh.

Who knows where the little girl in the ad had been or where she was going. Without even a glimpse of her face, I saw her joy. She and her pink tutu sparked the idea of playfulness in my life…and how much I’ve missed it.

Where had that playful little girl of my own yesterdays gone? Where was that part of myself? Was she still within me? Could I resurrect her? Or had I become too much of a “grown up?”
After that brief encounter with the girl in the pink tutu, other tutus started appearing in my life. I saw them in clothing stores, in magazines, running down the street as a group of tutu-wearing women fluttered by like blissful pixies. It was as though the Universe was calling out to me, “Come play!” I kept finding reasons to decline.

“I can’t run with these women. I have to work today,” I resisted. I reasoned with myself that my boss likely would not find running while wearing a pink tutu as an acceptable reason for missing a 10 AM meeting. I hated the dissonance. I felt pulled to play; but Responsibility kept calling.

“You have a full time job, you can’t play,” Responsibility yelled through the phone line. “You have two children who need clothes, food and an education, you can’t play. You’re the primary breadwinner, you can’t play…”

“When did Responsibility start ruling my life?” I complained.

A month or so later while on a business trip, a friend and I went out one evening. We decided to go to a fun little store filled with all things playful – yummy PJs and robes, funky jewelry, fun books, crazy plates and kitchen accessories and – you guessed it – pink tutus. Once again, the sight of the tutus drew me in like a shoe sale at Nordstrom.

“Buy me,” it called.

“Oh, I can’t…it’s too expensive. And look, it’s made for a child, not a grown woman,” I lamented to my friend (or possibly to my higher self).

“Buy me,” it called again.

Something in me became entranced and began to loosen the resistance. I started to dream.

“What if I actually could run with those women wearing the pink tutus? What if I didn’t have to attend meetings that weren't aligned to my higher self? What if I wore what I want wherever I go and didn’t care what others thought? What if my life was on my terms…?” I fantasized.

The pink tutu and I merged that very moment. I realized this tutu was much more than some pieces of fluffy fabric. It was a piece of art, a symbolic totem of my purpose, my playfulness and my passion.

When I returned from my business trip, I hung the tutu in my office. That act was met with some disapproval.

“Do I have to look at that every day?” protested my husband.

It would have been easy to take the tutu down to please him, but I recognized doing so was an action that no longer aligned to my new fluffy pink self. This tutu made me feel happy, playful and fun.

“Yes,” I replied to my husband, “or you can just look the other way.”

From that point on, my life has slowly become more aligned to my terms. The crazy part is that my life since then has been amidst some really unpleasant circumstances.

Just a few months after the fateful shopping trip to the funky store where my tutu and I merged, my two-year old son was diagnosed with a Wilms’ Tumor -- a rare kidney cancer that primarily affects children. Also known as nephroblastoma, it's the most common malignant tumor of the kidneys in children. At a time when many would crumble under the shock, fear and stress, I felt the power of my pink tutu really come to life. At times, I almost felt guilty for leaning into the power of this pink fluffy thing.

“My child has cancer,” I argued with myself. “How can you even think about yourself?”

But I knew in my heart that I needed to heed the call from my higher self or risk falling apart when my son – no, my entire family -- needed me most.

The pink tutu led my choices from there. I took a leave of absence from work – I can now run with the tutu wearing runners if I choose! No more boring meetings! I shaved my head in support of my son who has lost his undergoing chemotherapy! Who cares if people point and laugh -- bald is beautiful!

Embracing the pink tutu also brought me closer to someone. It introduced me to a part of myself I didn’t know – the Badass Fairy in the Pink Tutu. She is not a roller derby queen, but instead is the grown up version of the little girl in the McDonald’s ad. She’s playful, she’s powerful and she’s passionate in all she does. The pink tutu unleashed someone inside me who is far more fun than the person I was, she has strength beyond my wildest dreams and she lives more fully than the Me of yesterday.

Who knew layers of pink tulle could have so much power?