I was seven when our family got a new color T.V. and I could hardly contain my excitement. The Wizard of Oz would be airing, and although I had seen it before, I had never seen it in color.
We made popcorn, and I got my favorite blanket and dolls to settle in and watch. The movie began, but something was wrong as it was all in black and white!
Tears were streaming down my little cheeks when I heard my mother say “Calm down, it’s the first few minutes of the movie, and Dorothy is still in Kansas. Just wait a little while longer.”
I sat back down, sniffling into my blanket. I watched as the house swirled and twirled, feeling both a bit of fear for Dorothy and excitement for myself.
After the house landed with a thump and the blackened feet curled up beneath it, Oz did indeed become remarkably brilliant! I jumped up and stared in awe, inches from the screen, at Dorothy’s beautiful, glittering, Ruby Slippers.
It was nothing short of amazing.
The Wizard of Oz taught me so many lessons. The anticipatory feeling of “the wait” and the disappointment as the opening scene I had imagined in my mind was nothing but “the same old thing.”
Life hands us moments like that, and it is easy to jump to a conclusion without letting enough time pass. Things may change, but our immediate reaction to the stimuli can send us into emotional upheaval.
I think about all they all sought after – heart, courage, wisdom, home, and the longing to find the “Great and Powerful Oz” who could help them.
Their search for what they believed they were missing led them through treacherous and beautiful lands, only to arrive and find nothing more than an average man, pulling levers, manipulating situations and projecting images.
Time again, I would search externally for my truths, only to come up empty-handed wondering how it was I was there again. Someone recently said to me, “ We repeat what we don’t repair.”
I have since connected with my heart, work diligently on wisdom, and embrace courage every day. What perplexes me from time to time is finding ‘home.’
I bought a pair of beautiful Ruby-Red pumps with high heels and silver trim and had never worn them. I recently “found” them in my closet and put them on.
It had been a long day, and things felt very black and white like life had lost its color. As I gazed at my feet in the mirror, I took a slow, deep breath and reminded myself of what Glinda said to Dorothy: “You’ve always had the power to go back to Kansas.”
I closed my eyes and ceremoniously clicked my heels three times, whispering “There’s no place like home.” Although I did not find myself suddenly transported and surrounded by my loved ones, I did find a sense of comfort and knowing.
I have the power inside of me, and so do you.
Home is where you can lay your head, release your heart and impart or absorb wisdom. Your most magnificent companion is you, and your color will return once more if you trust the process, and give it some time.