Place

Win, Place, Lose. Gold, Silver, Bronze. Never getting past second place is like the theme of always being a bridesmaid. I’ll ignore the outdated ideal based on a belief that marriage to a handsome prince-type person is the final goal in life. A secure place in the land of “bridesmaids” should be celebrated for a world of all fun and no pressure. My life story feels like I sometimes lose, sometimes place, but never win.

Not true. When I was in elementary school, I won a raffle prize at the school fair. I remember yelling and whooping, “I won! I won!” all the way to the prize booth. Was I disappointed that my unexpected bounty was a small box with a cellophane top that revealed six ceramic animals? No, I cherished that green turtle, brown horse, black dog, orange cat, blue fish and yellow bird for years, not for any intrinsic value, but for the reminder that I can win something. I just might have some luck tucked in a pocket of optimism.

Did that event inform my optimistic nature, or is it the other way around? Lately, I’ve been reading and rereading various books that remind me of the power of our words. Our minds control our physical and real world more than we think. Still, I hold in my heart a belief that a) I am not good enough to win or b) I don’t deserve it. I have great confidence in some abilities based on natural gifts from the get-go, but those two “mistaken beliefs” stymie me more than I imagine.

Fast forward (mumble mumble) years, and in November of 2023 I won a free entrance fee for the Kauai Writers’ Conference in November of 2024. This memory is fresh in my mind. I literally ran to the prize table yelling and whooping “I won! I won!” I can’t remember being that excited, like a kid in line for a roller coaster, in a very long time.

Both wins were based on luck. I have worked and practiced and learned and striven at so many pursuits, often times placing or gaining honorable mention. My inner voice (darn thing) tells me when luck is involved, I just might win, but in skill, I am always second best, at best. A lot of chatter is going on, suggesting I don’t have an MFA, or I’m not underrepresented, or my writing is too fluffy – not serious, not on trend, not mainstream, not based on drama, trauma or tragedy. I’ve missed whatever boat I was destined for, ticket in hand.

I’ve been disappointed that applications for various conferences, contests, or in-person classes were denied, especially as colleagues easily “win” such opportunities. Do you hear that inner talk? It is dirty, muddy, detracting and plain wrong. I have no idea of their reality. I only know my words are holding me back.

Maybe it is rationalization that suggests missed opportunities would not have been the right fit. Had I attended X writing program would I have felt like an intruder, imposter or “bridesmaid?”

After spending a magical week at a writers’ retreat, for which I did not have to apply, I am changing my tune. What matters is, I have found my way, via a very circuitous route, to some communities that have changed my writing life in ways I could never have imagined. I didn’t win. I placed, or was placed, or was gifted a place to which I one hundred percent belong. I wouldn’t trade it for any golden statue, silver medal or bronze trophy.

Every step I take to learn a new skill or better my life incrementally pays off, grain of sand by grain of sand until I am surrounded by an imaginary sun-baked beach. The like-minded, industrious and goal-driven friends are like shimmering water in this mental paradise. Beyond the writing world. Nearly twenty years ago I took djembe drumming classes, bought my drum and sought local circles. That led me to slipping in the back door of the Joy of Djembe Drumming ensemble as a founding member. I did not have to audition. I fell into it from day one and learned as we grew. There is no coming in first or last. There is only sending positive vibes into the world through this amazing community.

First chair, first place, major awards and recognitions are great. You deserve every accolade for your accomplishments, but in my real world, placing is winning - finding and connecting and belonging to groups that align with my sensibilities and goals. Surrounding myself with others who understand and encourage and succeed despite setbacks is the grandest of prizes. I wish I had kept those ceramic animals through decades of moves and life changes. I’d place them on my bookshelf to cheer me on. May you find your place in your world, large or small. It is the grandest of prizes.