by cheri block
More than once in my life I have been compared to Charles Schultz’s Lucy van Pelt.
Maybe the comparison began in 1963 when I was running for Vice-President of Centerville Junior High. Except for my big wiseacre mouth, I was an undeveloped smart-alecky teenybopper running against a woman who wore a bra and like the Kardashians, was going to take full advantage of her God-given mazoomies. All of my campaign literature—signs, cards, leaflets—boasted Lucy calling my opponent Lisa a “Blockhead.” I understood the power of symbolism, Spoonerisms, allegory, and stupidity even at the tender age of 13.
My siblings (bless them all for their patience and resilience) railed to Mom and Dad every time I pulled the football out from under them, so to speak. They found themselves doing due-diligence, finishing my spinach, cleaning up my dog’s dog-doo, and mopping the floor, square by square, all while I rocked lazily on the hammock, dreaming of my literary career.
Anyone who has followed the Peanuts gang throughout the years knows that Lucy operates from a position of strength.
Lucy does not believe that the “Meek will inherit the earth.”
In fact, she believes that people like William the Bastard, Adolf Hitler, and Leonard Ahmadinejad will inherit the earth unless people like Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Serena Williams stop them.
Operating from a position of strength doesn’t mean bowling people over with big talk.
It means knowing who you are and trusting that you are moving yourself in the right direction, despite distractions like Barack Obama, Sarah Palin, and the United Nations.
Operating from a position of strength means expunging your overwrought behavior from your list of emotional responses to life.
Operating from a position of strength means you don’t need to emote every time something doesn’t go your way.