A Guest Post by Amy Derby
As a kid I loved the part of The Wizard of Oz movie where Dorothy’s having the ruby slippers made the guardian of the Emerald City say, “Well that’s a horse of a different color. Come on in!”
The other kids liked the lollipop dance. My mom liked the message that everything Dorothy ever needed had been inside her the whole time. I was fascinated with the ruby slippers, because at five years old I already felt it was important to ponder someday owning that one valuable thing that would make people want to invite me inside their magical world.
Sometimes we allow what we don’t have to define us.
Whether the thing we lack is money or a home or a heart, it’s easy to become so obsessed with what we don’t have that we think getting it will bring us all the happiness in the world. We set out on a path to get there – even if it’s the wrong one — and become determined to reach our goal at any cost. (Sometimes we even have to kill a witch in the process.)
At 18, I bought a bunch of shiny shoes and entered Corporate America. Someone who promised she was a good witch held the glass doors open for me, and I got sucked in. Once inside I quickly woke up to the fact that I didn’t like what that world was made of. Flying monkeys, screechy munchkins, and green ladies who needed houses dropped on their heads gave me nightmares. I had flashbacks of elementary school, where every time someone asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, all I could visualize was the yellow brick road and the little man pretending to be a big bad wizard shouting “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”
This wasn’t the dream I wanted to live after all.
Someone else’s yellow brick road might look like a promising path, but sometimes it’s just a really long way to get to where you want to go.
That doesn’t mean the path is worthless. I took everything I learned in my scary nightmare land of Corporate America with me to build the business I have today.
Just as I spent hours as a kid glued to the television watching The Wizard of Oz until my mother swore she would give our VCR away to some poor kid in China who didn’t have one, I spent many hours observing the green ladies and flying monkeys of big law firm life. I got to know a lot of different types of folks, and in doing so I made mental notes of everything they had and everything they lacked. I watched the ones who failed and the ones who succeeded — some of them did both — knowing that I wasn’t so fundamentally different from any of them. (After all, they grew up longing for magical shoes too.)
Watching them reinforced a few things The Wizard of Oz taught me:
You’ve gotta have a brain.
Scarecrow: I haven’t got a brain… only straw.
Dorothy: How can you talk if you haven’t got a brain?
Scarecrow: I don’t know… But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don’t they?
You’ve gotta have heart.
Wizard: As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.
Tinman: But I still want one.
You’ve gotta have courage.
Wizard to Lion: You, my friend, are a victim of disorganized thinking. You are under the unfortunate impression that just because you run away you have no courage; you’re confusing courage with wisdom.
You’ve gotta have a home.
Dorothy: If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with.
And sometimes… it helps to have shiny shoes.
Dorothy: Oh, please! Please, sir! I’ve got to see the Wizard! The Good Witch of the North sent me!
Guardian of the Emerald City Gates: Prove it!
Scarecrow: She’s wearing the ruby slippers she gave her.
Guardian of the Emerald City Gates: Why didn’t you say that in the first place? That’s a horse of a different color! Come on in!
Of course, it also helps to know where you’re going and why you want to get there.
It helps to remember that there’s more than one path, and sometimes the best path is the one you pave yourself. Sometimes everything we need really is inside us the whole time. Other times, the stuff we need is only a friend (or a twit) away.
I left the corporate version of Oz in 2004. I’ve been paving my path since, building a business that helps other folks like me succeed — with the help of an awesome network of folks, many of whom I’m happy to call my friends. I can’t say I’m living happily ever after yet, but I’m a lot closer than I was. Meanwhile, I’ve given away most of the shiny shoes I bought, because I don’t really feel like I need them anymore.
What was your favorite book or movie as a kid? What lessons did it teach you that have helped you succeed?
Amy Derby is a law blog consultant and highly caffeinated social media addict who twitters — @amyderby — more than she sleeps.
My favorites were Madeleine L’Engle’s books – the “Wrinkle” trilogy and some of her standalones. I reread them during the autumn I spent nursing/constantly holding my newborn, and I never realized how much they had informed my faith (far beyond religion) and my outlook on life — how much of “me” they had formed.
I still think about what I don’t have (why do I have to specialize in a niche? Other writers don’t do that, and look at all the money they make. And, why do I have to write at all? Other mothers are perfectly happy just being moms) but I know this is where I am supposed to be. I feel that deep in my soul. I am not certain that I would feel it without having read these books.
Hi Amy, What a wonderful post! The Wizard of Oz was and remains probably my favorite movie ever. I always thought they had it backwards, though. Kansas should have been in color and Oz in B/W, because real life, the fullness of life, was right there in Kansas. I guess I’m glad they sacrificed thematic consistency for entertainment, though. What movie has ever made better use of color – the ruby slippers, the green face of the Wicked Witch, the Yellow Brick Road, etc.?
Christa,
That is so incredibly sweet!!! Thank you so much for sharing that.
I’ve only read The Wrinkle in Time, but I think you just inspired me to go back and read the others. 🙂
P.S. When I was freelancing, I frequently wished I didn’t have a niche, because sometimes I felt very boxed in by mine. I guess we all want what we don’t have?
Brad,
Ooh, now THAT is interesting! I’ve never thought about it being backwards before, but yeah… I can see that. I did love the colors in that movie though. I’m also happy they went with ruby shoes. They were silver in the book. Red’s just so much more exciting, eh?
Thank you for liking my post. 🙂
Amy, once again you are thoroughly fabulous!
I especially needed to hear that today. In fact, the message that there is more than one path has been thunking me over the head for days.
My favourite book as a child was Lord of the Rings, which taught me to beware of large ugly men obsessed with jewellery.
Brad: While I take your metaphorical point, I am reading the original WOZ to my daughter. The first chapter describes in great detail how grey Kansas is, the grass, the crops, the buildings, the people….
I had never read the book, and actually think the B&W opening of the movie is a very clever way to stay visually true to the source material.
We haven’t quite finished it yet, so I can’t comment on the final resolution.
And for trivia purposes, the ruby red slippers are actually silver in the book.
Joely,
I always beware of large ugly men obsessed with jewels.
Oh wait… this is Liz’s blog. I’m supposed to be nice here.
*recomposes*
Ah yes… more than one path. My mother still doesn’t believe it’s true.
Also, I should publicly confess that I’ve never read Lord of the Rings. Clearly I’m a huge slacker.
Don’t get thunked too hard, k? And if you look up and a house is falling on your head, step out of the way, eh? That was meant for your neighbor. 😉
Hi Amy, what a great post! I know what you mean about getting caught up thinking that what I don’t have is what I need. It sure can get uncomfortable! Thanks for reminding me to enjoy what’s right here at home!
I always liked Dr. Suess. He taught me that you can talk in fun new ways!
Hi Donna, Thanks for sharing those insights about the book – I have never read it. It’s interesting to me that Baum characterized Kansas that way. I do remember reading somewhere that they changed the slippers to red in the film because red was a far more visually arresting color than silver.
Todd,
A Suess fan, eh? In first grade, our teacher dyed eggs and milk green for a Green Eggs and Ham party. 🙂
What was your favorite?
Donna,
I just re-read the book recently and had forgotten about the parts that were in the book but not the movie. It’s a whole different experience going back and reading old childhood books as adults, isn’t it? The nostalgia aspect of it is fun.
Amy, I’ve never seen REAL green eggs and ham. How cool! Sam I Am would be proud indeed.
My parents explained to my sisters and me that eggs can turn green when they are cooked in a copper pan. Of course, they would be a bit poisonous. 🙂
Anyway, I wish I had your first grade teacher!
Todd,
A little green food coloring goes a long way. Scarred me for life, actually, as I can no longer picture scrambled eggs any other way. Haha.
Good to know about the copper pan. Ah, the trivia I collect here on Liz’s blog.
This is fantastic. I have always love Wizard of Oz and this is the best comparison between Oz and business.
Hi Amy–
Gen and I discovered King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub when she was in kindergarten. That’s our favorite. Great pictures, good story. What more can you ask? 😀
Mer
Sarah,
Thank you. So… play along now. What was your favorite book or movie as a kid. 🙂
Mer,
Now I have to Google King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub. 🙂
Loved it. I have watched it so many times and never thought of it that way…now you need to blog about Wicked!
Barry,
I must confess: I am a theater snob. I couldn’t sit through Wicked. But maybe for you, I would try again. (After all, it’s better than the dentist.) 😉
Amy,
Wow. Printed this out to keep forever. It spoke right to me, especially this:
Or being thin, or having the right friends, or… Well, suffice to say that all of the above has caught me in its web at some point in my life. Sure, I usually slap myself and get over it eventually, but sometimes false obsessions like that ain’t so easy to get rid of.
Love this. Please let me know the next time you’re gonna reach through the screen and punch me in the gut, though. I’d like to wear some sort of protection.
(This is what blogging is for. Thanks for having Amy in, Liz!)
Regards,
Kelly
Thank you Kelly. What you said about “sometimes false obsessions like that ain’t so easy to get rid of” has been and is very true for me, too.
One of my favorite (and inspirational) books as a kid was “My Side of the Mountain” by Jean George. The main character ran away to the Catskills and used his creativity and smarts to sustain himself … I haven’t run away, but I am trying to use creativity and smarts to make Artsology into a self-sustaining business.
Mark,
Hmmm… Interesting! I’ll have to check that out.
This screamed outto me since this has got to be one of my all time fav movies
another awesome quote Wizard to Tin Man: And remember love is not measured by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others
Not to mention the cowardly lion’s solliloquoy. Awesome stuff
M,
Happy you enjoyed it. Thank you for reminding me of a few more quotes; I’d forgotten. 🙂
Amy,
Absolutely first class post! I usually only scan blog posts, but I read ever word of yours. I especially appreciate how you mixed in the illustrations.
I wrote a post at the end of January about my favorite movie as well. However, it is not a nice children’s movie, it is my favorite movie as an adult (or sort of one as it seems); The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
I won’t take up your Blog space with a summary, but if anyone is interested it is available here:
http://somersetblogs.com/2009/01/31/lessons-from-a-massacre/
Thanks again for sharing and I have saved this offering as one of my favorites.
Howard
Howard,
Thank you for your kind words. I am off to the dentist but will look forward to reading your post when I get back. I actually enjoyed the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre as a kid. I was a strange child… 🙂 Looking forward to reading what you had to say about it.