Living Out Loud – by Kathleen Schuller
25 May 2011 Leave a Comment
in Drama, Inspirational, Story Challenges!, Theme#1: New Life
Doris gazed listlessly at the darkening pond as she tried to put perspective on her life. She had everything to be thankful for. Great husband and kids, good friends, security, health. True, she sometimes felt invisible amongst all the extroverts who surrounded her. Even her beloved husband and children seemed to forget she was around, unless they needed something. And turning fifty had been a bit difficult, but she could not complain. No, the nagging empty feeling must be associated with her increasing dissatisfaction with her career. Or, she grimaced to herself, perhaps I should refer to it as my so-called career. For nothing had ever really happened for Doris in that area.
In the last thirty-five years she had worked so many jobs she couldn’t really say what her “occupation” was. Whenever she had to fill in a form that included this little box, she cringed. Housewife? Mother? Bookkeeper? She felt like she had done it all. As a teenager she worked retail to buy her own clothes, as a young mother she waitressed and did office work to help pay the bills. She wore many hats as a volunteer. Now she managed her husband’s business to keep it running smoothly. All honest work, but was she fulfilled?
Fulfilled. That word was forever cropping up. Every time she watched Oprah the topic was “finding your passion.” Find your passion and life will be one long joyous ride. Bound out of bed each morning and become all that you were meant to be. Glowing faces flashed across the screen, giving intimate details of their personal lives pre-passion-finding and post-passion-finding. Dr. Phil had the answers, too. Serious-minded guests told-all on national television. The implication was clear: If you don’t find your “passion” you are just not trying hard enough. And if you aren’t trying hard enough, well, maybe you deserve the boring, unchallenging life you are living. Actually, Doris enjoyed working as an office manager but it wasn’t exactly her dream.
“BBBBbbbrrringggg” came the shrill ringing of Doris’ cell phone. Doris answered it. “Honey, where are you? What’s for dinner? When will you be home?”
“Oh, hi Josh. I’m just running some errands. I’m on my way. Maybe we could go out for a bite?” Hopefully.
“Sure, but hurry up. I’m hungry.” He rang off.
Actually, Doris did have a secret wish but she thought it too farfetched to be a career move. Writing was her fantasy. What if she were to write down stories or events in her life? She had fifty years worth of experiences. A million ideas and stories bobbled about in her head. But who, she queried, would be interested in anything I have to say? Simple stories about an ordinary life—hadn’t they all been written? She knew from surfing the internet how many talented and exciting writers were out there. How could she compete with that? What could a timid woman like herself have to say of value or originality? Somewhere she had heard a saying: “The sky would be dull indeed if only the brightest stars shone” or something to that effect. In moments of self-doubt Doris pondered this idea – life, she reminded herself, is not meant just for the extremely talented or the most gifted—it is meant for us all.
Suddenly she snapped her purse open and rescued the crumpled flyer hidden in her wallet. It read “Writing Workshop-Beginners to Advanced.” For the hundredth time she studied it, contemplating her husband’s reaction if she announced she was leaving for a weekend. It’s not that Josh would mind her doing something for herself…he would probably be relieved to see her interested in something. But a whole weekend! The very thought intimidated her. Who would she know? Would anyone talk to her? Who would she take her meals with? (The pamphlet said meals were included.) Would she be able to keep up with the others? What if she had to read her work aloud? And the number one question which kept cropping up in Doris’ mind: What should she do with the rest of her life?
She tried to bolster herself. “I can do it,” she said to herself. “I know I can.” Recently for Doris’ fiftieth birthday party, she had written a poem. A rather silly poem, actually, which roasted all the guests at the party while laughing gently at herself. She thought the party guests would find it mildly amusing when she read it aloud to them after dinner. What she hadn’t been prepared for were the loud and boisterous roars of delight! They liked it! They liked what she had written. Doris was amazed that she had entertained people so successfully. But, she reminded herself, there were only close family and a few friends present, not to mention the cocktails they had consumed. Still, she had felt so alive, not just during the reading but while she had been writing and preparing her presentation. Doris sighed as she remembered her promise to hurry home.
Josh took her to the local diner for dinner. The conversation was dull as ever—could two grown people really have nothing more to say to each other than “What did you have for lunch?” In reality, Josh had plenty of newsy talk and a fabulous career. Listening dutifully, Doris tried to hide the fact that she was tired. Tired of never having anything new to say, tired of Josh assuming that she had nothing new to say, tired of him being right. Excusing herself, she made her way to the ladies room, swabbing furtively at telltale tears.
“Doris! Hello! I’ve been thinking about you!”
Doris smiled weakly as her neighbor, Trish, approached her. Trish shone with good health, confidence, and, most depressing of all, youth. Definitely the last person Doris felt like seeing.
“I’ve been meaning to call you for weeks! I couldn’t wait to tell you what I’ve been up to but I’ve just been so busy! I did it! I finally just broke down and did it! And I have you to thank!”
In typical Doris-ignoring mode, she continued, “I opened my own business—the one I’ve been talking about for so long. Between the meetings with the bank and loan officers and finding a rental location, I haven’t had a moment to get in touch with you. But I can’t thank you enough, I really can’t. You’ll have to stop by and see my dance studio – it’s fantastic.”
Trish jabbered excitedly, “I don’t know how many times I’ve told my husband, ‘If it wasn’t for Doris, I might never have actually done it.’ But when you got up and read that birthday poem, I said to myself, ‘If quiet little Doris can do that, I can do anything.’ ” Her young neighbor chattered on, oblivious to Doris’ inattention.
Because Doris was no longer listening. She was in another world, a world of grandmas and aunts and cousins, a shadowy world where little Doris was about four years old and talking excitedly to a roomful of female relatives. “She’s so loud!” her aunt was exclaiming to the others. “She’s exactly like Aunt Mary! She’s going to be a loudmouthed woman exactly like her Aunt Mary!” And all the aunts and grandmas shook their heads disapprovingly. “You really must learn to be quiet and ladylike.” “No one likes a mouthy little girl.” Little Doris cowered and felt ashamed. It was not pleasant to be looked at in such a way. She determined never to be like her Aunt Mary. Little Doris decided she would never be labeled a “loudmouth” again. Little Doris would show them.
“Doris? Doris?! You haven’t heard a word I said!” Trish did not like to be ignored, especially by Doris.
Starting, Doris realized Trish was still speaking. Her attention resurfaced. She recognized the familiar pattern: People talked, Doris listened. Even as she listened she seemed invisible. Suddenly Doris did not want to be invisible any longer. Amazingly, she realized she wanted to be that loudmouthed woman of those long ago predictions. Little Doris had been wrong to listen to those people. Fear had kept her down, but she no longer feared their criticism. She needed to speak with no boundaries, freely, as that tiny child had. Fulfillment loomed. And anger. Where had it been all these years?
“I’m thrilled for you, Trish. I’ll come by and see your studio soon. But right now Josh is waiting for me.” She walked briskly away as Trish halted mid-sentence, a surprised look overtaking her face.
Back at the table, Josh barely looked up from his food. “What took you so long?” he asked disinterestedly, shoveling a bite of broccoli into his mouth.
Doris stared boldly at the night sky in the large window behind him. “I was looking at a star,” Doris proclaimed in a voice loud enough to startle him, “that’s just about to shine.”
* The title ‘Living Out Loud’ is from a quote by Emile Zola.
Kathleen Schuller has a Master’s in English, is a proud mother and grandmother. She is currently working on some children’s books, and loves reading (especially Jane Austen ) 
