I love award shows. Not all of them, but particularly the Golden Globes and the Oscars. Do I honestly care which designer anyone is wearing? No, but I can bandy about the words haute couture with the best of them. And were I to be, say, a puppy, my little ears would perk up at the mention of the name Harry Winston.
So I watch a little bit of the red carpet, where celebrities do their completely unnatural glam poses for cameras and their two second interview with Ryan Seacrest and head inside for the festivities. I do this, of course, while wondering things like how do they find the right limo among the fleet of them afterwards, and do they carry ID with them like a driver's license or is that just redundant when you're famous. These are the burning questions running through my mind. Also, at what point can the women eat a square meal again.
So the ceremonies start, and everyone begins judging the job that the host or hosts are doing. Me, I'm always rooting for whoever it is to succeed and I cut them a lot of slack, because I think it is a high pressure job to try and be funny in front of your peers on live television. And no matter how well you do, some people won't like you. (The same can actually be said about anything in life, really, but that's a topic for another day.)
So the cameras pan the audience for amused celebrity faces, of which Tommy Lee Jones is clearly not one, and so begins my search for that unforgettable line or moment of the evening, the one that is startlingly eloquent, revealing, or both.
I almost thought my award would go to Jodie Foster, but to tell you the truth, I couldn't tell what she was trying to say for most of her speech. Is she quitting the business, or just acting, or coming out, or going in, what the heck? And the affinity for Mel Gibson, God love you for your loyalty, Jodie, because the rest of us consider his bigotry and behavior to have been a deal breaker. So, moving though she may have been about her mother at the conclusion of her speech, she did not take home my prize for the evening's best moment.
The winner of my favorite line of the night goes to - Anne Hathaway, hands down, who said as she looked at the Golden Globe statue in her hand, "Thank you for this lovely blunt object that I will forevermore use as a weapon against self doubt."
Now that, my friends, was the turn of phrase, the reveal, if you will, that I was waiting for.
What is our blunt object to be used against self doubt? What is our undeniable validation to be gazed upon when we are questioning our own judgment, or abilities, or direction in life?
Oh Anne, brilliantly talented and so young - I hate to tell you that the statue will not eradicate that gnawing feeling of self doubt. It might assuage it momentarily, but I'm afraid that our belief in ourselves is an inside job. I'm afraid that no amount of accolades can replace the terms we must come to within our own soul about who we are and what we bring to the table. But I also know that sometimes our talent is proportional to our level of crazy (sorry to say) at the time, and that the internal struggles we face contribute to our best work because we strive that much more to achieve it. (A cruel bit of irony.)
So I'm wishing for the kids at home and the ones in the ballroom to take with them this tidbit - there is enough room at the table for all of us, and we each bring a unique set of gifts with us to share in a way that no one else can. Our job is to honor that and bring it.
Do I want a Golden Globe? Sure. But mostly I want to feel comfortable in my own skin, like I belong in that room full of talent, and that I'm beautiful, loved, and enough just the way I am. I think that's what most of us want, but it won't ever come from a statue, golden or otherwise.
Thanks for stopping by. Please tell your friends. And here's to enough doubt to make us persevere toward our greatness and enough confidence to allow us to achieve and receive it.