The Journey to TEDx
I’m giving a TEDx talk in 10 days. The feeling is so surreal.
I’ve often thought of my life in chapters. As one chapter closes another one opens. It’s a tidy way to approach the changes of life. And, probably because I want it to be tidy, I’ve had a tendency to see the closing of a chapter as pretty final. It’s done. It’s over. Time to move on. However, in the last two months, I’ve seen this isn’t true. I’ve watched experiences, lessons, and characters come back to me in full force as I’ve been preparing for what’s coming next. It has opened my mind and my heart to the fact that our experiences and the people we meet shape us. The lessons we’ve learned and the characters we’ve met aren’t stuck in the past – and that’s a wonderful thing.
Since gratitude is a proven wellbeing practice, I’m going to spend some time today reflecting on the people and experiences that I’m grateful have been part of my journey. This article today is my exercise in recording these moments and you’re welcome to join me.
In my first practice workshop almost two months ago, I was setting up my camera when someone behind me asked, “Are you Ryker’s mom?”
I turned around to find Jenny, one of the caregivers at my son’s daycare 7 years ago. Here was a woman who had loved my son like her own and helped care for him while I worked and started my business. Without her, my business would not have existed and my son probably would not have the same love for Mexican food – which if you’ve seen my boy eat Takis, you know how devasting it would be to not have that flavor in his life. How wonderful to see her again and to have the chance to share parts of this next chapter with her.
Another workshop was arranged by a dear friend of our family, Janae Hutchison. I’ve known her family since I was born and, in many ways, she represents my mom’s love and the community of the neighborhood I grew up in. There were times during my mom’s cancer journey that my mom asked me to arrange calls with Janae so they could talk. To have her support while I’ve built out this next chapter feels like having my mom here.
A few weeks later, I was practicing my talk and another workshop at our local library. My heart was full as I saw friends and neighbors file in. One friend, Rosalee Dougal, was the RA of my dorm when I was a freshman at BYU (she was also a big supporter of my then boyfriend, Spencer). Another friend, Jerilyn, had a son who played on a baseball team with my son. The room also filled with others that I knew from the times I’ve spent dancing, my neighborhood, my church, and from the fact that we’re related (thanks for coming Papa and my mother in-law, Cheryl). I held it together pretty well until one of my former employees, Justine Anderson, also showed up. She had driven more than an hour to lend support.
The characters from previous chapters of my life didn’t stop there, however, a friend I’ve known since elementary school, Hillary Whittaker, invited me to speak at her work. The very first play I ever did was the 4th grade operetta where I played Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and she was my Toto. We’ve had contact over the years thanks to the power of social media. She now works at Community Action Services and Foodbank which is an organization I worked with closely when I had my first job out of college with United Way. Reconnecting with her was such a treat and giving a talk at Community Action woke my soul up in ways I didn’t realize had been sleeping. While there, I also reconnected with another friend, Kena Matthews, who had worked with my mom and represents so much of what I love about those who are community minded.
More workshops and more connections continued to invigorate my drive. The merging of the different worlds I’m part of has helped remind me that there is no such thing as wasted time. There are opportunities in every experience.
In each of these workshops, I have been able to test my content and fix my understanding of how to shape ideas, so they are accessible and memorable. What I didn’t realize, however, was that I was taking the delivery of my speech for granted.
After realizing I wanted my talk to be more than just memorized, I had an epiphany. My talk is basically a monologue. And yet, I had not done any of the work that I would have if I had been given this monologue during my theater days. And so, I decided I needed to put the work into this speech like I would if it were one of my Shakespeare pieces back in the day – (Come back to me Rosalind!) The only difference here is that I’m not putting on a character and taking it off. I have to show up as me. Using my own words. And that’s scary – so I knew I was going to need some help.
There are only 2 people that I would trust to help me with this… and one of those people is in heaven. So, I called my friend, Kaylie Watkins, who is very much alive and who knew how Syd Riggs, our friend in heaven, brought magic to any piece of theater. For a couple of hours, in a parking lot, at sunset (to honor and tribute Syd), Kaylie called me on my crap and opened my heart so that I could deliver the talk with authenticity and depth that had been missing when I was just reciting words. I now feel like I can deliver this talk not only from a rational space, but from one that honors the emotions within it as well.
I could not have gotten to this point without each and every one of those connections (and many more, but this article is already too long, so we’ll let this be enough for now).
I’m grateful to the many people who have shaped me, served with me, and had patience with me over the years. I’m grateful for the many different things that I’ve learned over the years and I love seeing these unrelated things come together in unexpected ways. Our experiences shape us and to loosely quote the song from Wicked, the people we meet along the way truly change us for good.
Thank you for reading with me today. I hope you take some time to reflect on the people and experiences that have contributed to where you are today.