Les Yeux Ouverts...Dream a Little Dream

Dream a Little Dream

(Les Yeux Ouverts)

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "i love you"
Birds singin’ in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me

Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me
While I’m alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me

Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I’m longin’ to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me

(instrumental break)

Stars shining up above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "i love you"
Birds singin’ in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me

Yes, dream a little dream of me



Starlight...

 i love this song...

MUSE

Starlight

Far away
This ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die

Starlight
I will be chasing the starlight
Until the end of my life
I don't know if it's worth it anymore

Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms

My life
You electrify my life
Let's conspire to ignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive

But I'll never let you go
If you promised not to fade away
Never fade away

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations

Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms

Far away
This ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die

And I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations

Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
I just wanted to hold

Why it's taken so long...

                                              (Scottish Highlands)

Oh, what a month May was. Difficult, disappointing, dispiriting, discouraging...many disses. I, for one, am so glad that it is gone. I am hoping, and attempting to create the reality of all that mess being contained within the wadded ball of paper from the calendar, tossed into the garbage and relegated to the past and to the road behind.

However, being an idealistic realist, I know that the path behind colors the walk ahead. So I suppose that the truth is that I am hoping for the residues to be diminished in their ability to touch the tomorrows ahead.

What on earth has happened? Probably nothing large to anyone reading these words, but to me, far too much, all at once. Hard to write about, but harder to hold inside.

Already feeling the sadness of a loss, documented earlier, I found that a position of employment had been scammed out from under me. It had been an ideal set-up for us, worked quite well in our schedule and provided just enough income to cover what was lacking. I don't ask for much, and require little, but to have that "not much" and "little" managed is necessary. So, that discovery set me reeling. Welcome to the month...

At the same time, my daughter was approached with dancing for the company performance team for next year. This brings an added expense that I am completely uncertain as to how we will meet, but it has to happen for her. And to this one thing I am sure...I will do whatever must be done to make sure that it does.

Why?

While I am dealing fairly well, for the most part, in my recovery from our abandonment and the divorce, she is not. We had an anniversary, of the date that we were moved out, happened early in May. I was aware of it, but as she does not speak about it and doesn't like to bring any of the subject up, I kept that awareness to myself. She, however, brought it up, out of the blue. And a depression landed on our home. I could see it weigh her down, it was tangible and very dark.

The hardest part of being a parent is the feeling of complete helplessness when you see your child in pain, for whatever reason, and know that you cannot remove it. It is the most indescribable agony of soul and spirit that I have ever endured and it has no relief until a way through is found and their healing begins. Torture knows no greater tool. Sorrow goes no deeper. Not for me.

I have wanted, through all of this, so desperately, to have the ability to move her through the experience with as little damage as possible. Difficult, not realistic at all. Highly idealistic, and without any rational thought to it. But still, there was the desire. I have so many unresolved feelings from my childhood of constant movement and upheaval and loneliness and isolation that I am not properly capable of removing myself from them and approaching her situation objectively. I project my experience too strongly and lose my bearings inside of it. Being confronted with her pain left me feeling completely incapable of everything. Absolutely everything. Yet everything depended on me getting us through the rapids.

If you have never felt the truth of "taking things one step at a time", wait until you are a parent, or responsible somehow for getting another life through a dangerous place without knowing where or how to step. Things make so much more sense when you see them through those eyes.

This, of course, is happening while we are still dealing with her "friend" having set a jugulo gang on her for no longer having a particular hat. Yes, you read that correctly. And that's another issue altogether, but is part of the reason why it is of extreme importance that any job that I am able to get not leave her home alone for any real length of time. Still being dealt with, had another discussion with a probation officer for an individual just this evening. There was some good and positive news tonight, whew.

Dance is my daughter's salvation right now. Everyone needs something that is their own. This is hers. She adores music, as most young people her age do. She plays piano, is beginning to sing again, but dance is her outlet. It is her focus and it drives her, it comforts her. It is the string of life that she is holding hard afast to during this time of her life. It is beginning to define who she is, and through it she is learning strength, confidence and ambition is becoming her own again.

And that is why I will do whatever is needed in order to make sure that she is able to pursue this opportunity.

Summer session of dance is paid for, somehow. Music Man dance auditions are coming up and she is excited for that.

School is out next week, but I am finding productive, worthwhile things to fill our time with.

The sting of that job taking is diminishing and leads are opening up in unexpected directions. A few openings in the library system just were posted, and I am applying for those as well.

Counseling will be paid for by her father, per our agreement of parenting.

The gang beating issue is having much light shown on it and that always helps these situations lose their power. Dark deeds do not thrive in bright light.

My loneliness...it seems larger than ever right now. Her counselor said that I am a smiling depressive. I see where he is going with that, but I disagree. I am a saddened optimist, right now. It will pass. My hopes and dreams for life are always the same. They get kicked about and stomped on. My heart gets tossed around and bruised up, but only because it is visible and it cares. I can't live any other way, to wall it up again is death of the soul and I will not be there again. Loneliness has been a companion of mine for many years now, it is bound to get tired of me soon enough, since I would rather have pain than empty nothing and that is where it lives. At least pain lets me know that I am alive, while the other was worse than death.

For now, the hemorraging is, at least, managed. The cutting has stopped, but I am on open alert and do regular inspections, without objections.

And I am so grateful that this miserable month of May is gone.

Oh yes, let's not forget...the world was supposed to end on the 21st of May. See? Blimey, what a blooming dismal 31 days that was.

new post coming later today...

Maybe a few. It's been a rough week or so, so many things happening. Feeling completely overwhelmed! Can't write now, have to leave to do things, but will later this evening.

No, I ain't...

Don't hassle me, I'm trying to process.

                                       But I ain't missing you at all...

New song by Selena Gomez

I don't actually like Selena Gomez, generally speaking, but I do like this song. I like the reaction to it from the kids at school, I think that it is giving them some of the oomph that the year has taken out of them. It's been a tough one for them all, socially, and I like the upturn that's happening. Whew!

oh, Napoleon, make me giggle!

Rock it, Napoleon!

...

So, I had a friend in a situation read over my last post. The question came up over whether or not I am being honest with myself in regards to my feelings.

I think it's a fair question.

The answer is, I'm not sure. And I'm not happy that I'm not sure.

I figure that part of my life is over. I had my shot, and it was an epic fail all the way through. I don't expect to ever find that in my life at this point in the game. I wouldn't be against it, not at all. I just simply can't see anyone caring for me in that way, especially not now that I'm "old". And in this case, I am certain there is no interest and no availability. So, I am going to stop analyzing anything right here and now and just let it lie as is.

At least I didn't make a fool out of myself. I hope...

Maybe I am happier with just pen/paper or computer screen. Feedback sucks in this case.

kinda sad...

Actually, I'm more than "kinda" sad. I AM sad.

Today the Camelot costumes are leaving, the shippers just called. They'll be here in about 2 hours. That's the last tie to a wonderful re-birthing experience for me. Now all that will be left are memories and some random photos.

The people will move on. They already are. I've seen it enough to know that it's how these things cycle. There is the initial tearing away that is hard, and most will try to hang on to something, not willing to let the connection dissolve. Sometimes, solid friendships are built and they last, but it really depends on the individuals and how much they are willing to put into the maintenance of the connection while it bridges the gap between make-believe and real life. For the most part, there is only a vague acquaintance that is left. Someone that you will recognize and say hello to and then that's that. It's a hard time to navigate for alot of people, especially those that are new to the process.

Then there are the times when the friendship possibility is strong and solid, common interests and thoughts are open to conversation and tossing of ideas; but it goes nowhere. One party decides, for whatever reason, to let it go. They move on and don't look back, and the other is left standing there, sad.

That is me.

Today, I accept that the friendship that I thought was going to make it through the process, has not, will not. This one hurts. I thought I had happened upon someone that I could share ideas of politics(maybe even have solid religious discussions, that would have been really great), theatre, gardening, travel, all those things that I love, that I want to learn more about. I like to think way out of the box on things and that upsets alot of people who are uncomfortable with open spaces, so I keep my thoughts and questions to myself in large part. The sadness is a little stronger than it might have been otherwise...okay, alot. This one points out to me that it most respects in my life, I truly am alone. I have my words to share my thoughts and ideas with, but that's all...and I guess that will have to be enough.

I reach for my notebook and pen and scribble down the thoughts that are springing to life in my head and heart. But that's where they'll stay. 

Nothing bounces them up to the next level, or into the next room. They never become fully fleshed out and then just wither and die in their 2-dimensional state. Likely they would do that anyway, but who would know?

Part of this situation could be that, because this person is male, and I am a single female, my motives are being questioned. I can't do a thing about that, nor do I care to(I had to think about that one, but I've decided...i can't worry over every move or word, that's not friendship). I make myself as non-threatening as I can, as I know how(which is funny because how threatening is a hamster?), but I can't do anything about another's perception beyond that. I have been told that I am a flirty person, but I don't see it. I can't flirt, I choke up. I don't know how, for pity's sake. A friend would know that, wouldn't they? He never gave any indication that there was any interest beyond conversation, etc. and I am certain that I did not offend the boundary that I felt. I am confused on all of that, I've never understood any of these things. I don't see what I can do to change it. I think that all that is left is needing to accept it, whether or not I agree or understand.

So. I Am Sad, today. And likely will be for a bit. That I DO understand. I'll be alright, but not for awhile. It will take time, and while that time is taken, I will be sad. 

Everybody hurts...

Looking for the man with the kind, gentle eyes of my 2nd grade hero...

You won't remember me, but I'll never forget how you helped me pick up all the pieces of my paper doll set when they fell.

It was the love of love,
the love that swallows up all else,
a grateful love,
a love of nature, of people,
of animals,
a love engendering
gentleness and goodness
that moved me
and that I saw in you.

• William Carlos Williams

Thank you.

May Day 2011

Gossip and reputation make sure that what comes around-a person who is cruel will find that the others are cruel back to him, and a person who is kind will find others are kind in return. Gossip, paired with reciprocity, allows karma to work here on earth, not in the next life.

Jonathan Haidt, The Happiness Hypothesis: Finding Modern Truth in Ancient Wisdom, 2005

Interesting choice, I know.

Yesterday evening the news came across the wire that Osama Bin Laden had been killed. My first reaction was of to want proof. To see the body, to see for myself that life was no longer possessed by the mortal shell of this evil man.

My second thought was one of extreme caution. We are in for it now.

The news states that the United States acted alone in the operation that brought justice to many who had endured life-altering agony because of this man. I doubt that. Perhaps in the final blow, yes. But I believe that the US is taking responsibility in order to protect our allies and to put into motion another step in the path.

We know, all of us who pay attention, that this is not the end. This is the beginning of the next part of this battle and it's going to be bloodier than what we have seen to date. Bin Laden has now been made a martyr, something that he wanted and needed to have in order to keep his cause fueled. Our government knew this. Now the question left to ponder is, why move towards check when check-mate is not within our grasp yet?

I believe that we had hit a stalemate. I believe that we had been able to take Laden out many times over in the past and had chosen NOT to. Why? Was it for oil? National security? Part of a pawn's game? Why now?

Gas prices in the US are at the highest they have ever been, and set to go higher. A few weeks ago President Obama said in a statement that we need to prepare for gas to be $5/gallon by the end of this month. He then backed off the statement, I don't know what the reason given was. Now, Bin Laden is killed(still want proof on this one). Absolutely oil prices are going to fly. I see a link between the two items, but it isn't well-defined yet.

The talk around my facebook friends is  of 2 camps. The 1st is the YAHOO! HE'S DEAAAAD, group. They are the die-hard, John Wayne, "go-in-and-take-out-the-bad-guy-and-the-town-will-live-in-peace", folks(they will also HATE that description of themselves). The 2nd camp, which is surprising to me, is made up of "this is not Christian behavior, to rejoice over the death of another", although I find it interesting that these same folks are the ones who speak of their own eventual death as a time for joy as they are reunited with God and Savior. This is a complex situation for many.


I have theories, and they aren't all thorough, but this is my blog and I can put them out into the world here, as is.


The first camp: I get the sentiment. I understand completely the desire to have the bad guy gone and the conflict over. This is, of course, a highly idealized thought and one that is not based even remotely close in reality. But the child self that lives in us wants it to be so, almost desperately. The truth of the conflict and the path that we are on is not easily consumed or accepted. In fact, it is so opposed to how we are geared to think as to be completely unsupportable. I worry for them because they ARE going to have their joy hammered in very short order, and that hurts. But I believe that they will be able to pick themselves up and regroup for the next phase.


The second camp: These folks are the greatest concern to me. At times they seem to have lost focus on the truths of justice, consequence, judgement and that God himself created the laws of all that we are bound by...and those laws, in all forms, demand balance, justice, etc. Christians believe that through the saving grace and ordinances brought to humanity by Jesus Christ, as Savior of all, that we can have our wrongs forgiven and be allowed to dwell with God and Son in the eternities. Yes, I believe that also. But not by simply saying, "Hey, I believe". Faith, without works from the self, is dead. Grace is given freely to all who seek, but they must do their part. This isn't a "get out of jail free" card. That goes against the laws of choice/consequence, justice/mercy, etc. I also feel that they are fearful of emotion. It is not wrong to feel anger, or pain, or relief, or even a spark of joy at the thought of a madman being taken down. There is not danger in these feelings unless we lose our sense and begin to freely react in response to them. Being a devout Christian does not mean that we cease to be human, to explore and experience. It does not mean that we are not allowed to feel and express all ranges of emotions. There is a fear that I do not understand anymore. These things are not wrong. It is the refusal to balance that is the worry. And these folks give me the greatest cause for alarm. They are so willing to throw away the harder stands of justice and the temporal judgement that we are recquired to make that they allow everything to come in and be accepted. Everything, except those feelings that keep common sense alive. God didn't make us to be empty vessels needing Him to tell us how to think and feel. He made us as thinking, feeling, acting people and expects for us to stand on our feet. Use him as a guide, not an excuse.


So where do I stand?
I am glad that Bin Laden is dead. In all truth, he had it coming. And he knew it. Karma? Sure. He put himself on the path. Has justice been served? Well, how many thousands have died by his planning? I don't think that it has been served, but this was definitely due. I feel no remorse or pity for him, none at all. His eternity isn't for me to judge and monitor.


If you want to take things biblically, all signs in the world point toward the 2nd coming as being imminent. Certain events are still key and need to occur. This killing of Bin Laden could well be the catalyst that has been missing to bring those events to a head. The roots have been layed out, the rumblings and framework put into place. I have been wondering what would need to happen to flesh it out, and I believe that will begin soon.


But not before May 21st. That, supposedly, according to a large group of fundamentalist based Christians, is the rapture. 19 days away. Hmmm...


I am very cautious. We are going to get hit, hard. It has to happen. We all knew that, I think. It could not go on as it was. We had been at stall for too long. It was a matter of when it was deemed to be the most advantageous to make the move. I wonder why now?


Bin Laden knew that he needed the martyrdom, it was planned for that all along. I think all the world's governments knew it as well. It gives a new and much more frightening depth and definition to the fight. Again, why was now chosen as the correct time to set this into motion?


Does it have anything to do with our economy? Obama cut the military down pretty low and pulled troops out of countries, but we have to have that military base if for nothing else than the economic boost it gives. Is the strike in order to allow for the increase again while saving face for the man who just tossed his hat into the upcoming presidential race? Is it to give the rising gas prices an excuse?


The storm that will now begin is going to shock many. Don't discount these words.


I lived with the culture for almost 25 years. I did not embrace it for acceptance, but for understanding. What I know is that the middle eastern people and the western people do NOT think alike. Our actual brain processes are different, in most cases, opposite. I kid you not. The things they say are not to be taken as we take them, and so we misunderstand. They hear our words of sincerity and to them it means something completely different and so when they react as they would in their world, we are stunned. Many were furious with Obama over his approach to the almost-uprising in Iran 2 summers ago. But there was no other tact he could take. It was a set-up by the Iranian government, and in part by the people as well. I recognized it from the way my life had been orchestrated, and I saw that there was nothing that could be done except to sit and wait it out.


And so that's really all we can do now. Be prepared, do our emergency prep as we've been instructed, and wait. The storm, she is coming. And she's almost perfect.

Interesting...

Not trying to be serious or super-reflective on this blog, overall...but it's going to come out that way right now. I'll be goofy in a moment, promise. :)


Had an interesting evening, last. Masoud wanted to meet up at Fred Meyer, "for groceries". Now, this is code for seeing Emma. It's been a darn rough month financially and another one coming up, so I agreed to drop other plans to meet off the cuff like that. It's been awhile since he and Emma have visited, he's been out of the country for several weeks and hadn't seen her for a few prior to that(really, you would think that he lived terribly far away instead of a mere 1/2 hour), and she wasn't particularly pleased about having to see him. I know that she may not realize it now, but someday she will be glad of a relationship with him that is more positive than not. At least, I sure do hope that she will be. That's why I try very hard to not talk negatively about him or what has happened, just matter-of-factly when anything comes up that can't be avoided.


Emma and I are always there on time, but always much earlier than he is, so we get started right away, meandering around, planning and talking about meals, school snacks, etc. When her father gets to the store, I send them off on their own and make myself disappear. The visit isn't about me, and I don't want to be the one that they both hang on to because it seems easier than dealing with each other.


Here's the thing that I want to talk to somebody about...and since there isn't anybody, it becomes this blogspot.


I've noticed that the past few times that we've met up(over the course of the past several months), I feel nothing. Really.


After the seperation, when we first moved out(at his request), it was the most painful thing in the world. I couldn't call him any of the endearments or nicknames that had been accumulated over the decades, I couldn't touch his arm or stand nearby as we had always done. I just didn't know what to do or how to "be". Afterward, I'd be a shaking, shivering mess and cry for the rest of the night from the overflow of emotion. It just wasn't worth the toll, for me alone, but Emma needed that contact with him and I could be a big girl and suck it up...somehow.


During this time I kept up with my therapy, working very hard at overcoming the pain and growing through it. There wasn't any avoiding it anymore and I'd given up that foolish thought, so it was clear that moving through the situation was the only way to go. Hopefully, I'd drop the negative emotions and pain along the path so that when I came out of the darkness they would no longer be my companions and I would find that I had opened up doors to accept new and positive thoughts and feelings. I'd been meeting with counselors over the years to deal with the issues that had always been alive during our marriage, but I needed something different, something that could help me to identify root issues and rid myself of them. The therapist that I found was working with an approach called T3 magnetic therapy, and it involved a certain awareness and open spirit in order to be effective. Very interesting, something to go into more depth here about another time. But to nutshell it, core issues are uncovered and then removed through a particular approach, new belief systems are found and sort of implanted through the use of very powerful magnets. There is a very definite physical and spiritual reaction, it takes a few days for the system to re-balance and re-set. During this time sleep patterns are disrupted, thought processes are a bit more scattered, or more highly focused. It depends on the the situation. I know that it sounds rather hocus-pocus, hoodoo voodoo, but it isn't. Definitely not for the person who isn't wholly invested in the outcome, however,  as it was a tough haul emotionally over the time that we took. But in the end, the results were just what I had hoped for. I felt, each time, a complete release from the negative thought patterns that had plagued me for my life, and to this day cannot recall them to me. They are gone.


How did this help me heal from the divorce? Well, I knew all along that the marriage was not a good one. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't be the person that he needed for me to be. Nothing was enough, ever. This played into patterns from my youth and I knew no other way for life to be. I can say this now without anger or blame. He did not love me, nor did he like me. There was a certain depth of responsibility that he felt toward me, after so many years, but the other had not ever existed for him. The truth was that our marriage was, to him, a business arrangement. It was to help bring his family here, and once that had been accomplished in full, the exit began. I sensed it for several years before but put it away, not wanting to deal with the issues in myself.


So now I had released old core beliefs that were flawed and incorrect and held positive and more correct ones in myself. And I found that the pain was almost gone...just like that.


Do I miss my old life? Yes. I miss the home on Camano. I miss the gardens, the space, the simplicity of growing our food, raising the children, the feeling of purpose...I miss the luxury of spending a summer's day in the gardens, planning and cooking with the foods that I harvested, washing the clothing and putting it out on the line to dry in the sun, exploring and walking with the girls, caring for the animals. I miss it quite desperately at times. It was a lovely time and I can at least say that I appreciated it at the time as much.


But...Do I miss him?


No.


I miss what I had hoped we could be, but never were, so is that missing, really? I don't think so.


We weren't close, ever. I wanted to share thoughts, feelings, dreams, goals, interests, joys and sadnesses as they came along. We didn't.


After we found out that Emma was coming along, we shared nothing else as well. And that was for many, many years before our marriage ended legally.


So where is all of this going?


This is the interesting thing to me...after all those years of living together, when I see him now I feel nothing. Nothing. I feel more when I look at a stranger and wonder about their life than I do when I see this man. Just, nothing. Not anger. Not loss. Not sadness. Perhaps a hint of pity, because I know in time he will miss his children and what he does now will pave the way for any possibilities in the future...and I see him blowing that away.


I can honestly say that, except for how he went about it, I am really glad that this has happened. I am me and I like me, for the most part. I know that I am a good person and I know that I am trying to do my best. I am not complacent by any means. Just not beaten down anymore by the thought that I am of no worth. My friends, my hopes and dreams, interests and hobbies are no longer ridiculed and I am free to love them and grow through them, to use them to do good things.


Some people expect for me to be quite sour on men or marriage, given the traumatic way that all of this occurred. It WAS brutal, yes. It didn't need to be, but it was. I still can't talk about it all, people only know small pieces and their shock is enough to just stop me. Nothing else needs to be said at this point, and if it ever comes up that anyone needs to know it all then that will be a different situation. BUT, I'm not sour on men. NOT AT ALL. And I'm not against marriage, AT ALL. And I'm not gay, for crying out loud. I like men quite a bit, thank you very much! I actually think that they are pretty wonderful, in fact. :)


So, the real upshot here? T3 is fantastic, and so is a pantry full of groceries!!! :)
Thanks for "listening". Helps to get it out.

Just finished working Camelot

I am working as costume manager with Lyric Light Opera again! Say YAY (yay). Thanks. I'm really grateful to be able to be back with them, to have theatre be a part of me once more. Didn't know that anything had changed? That's understandable. It's been awhile.


2 years ago, when my marriage was falling to ruin around me, I began desperately trying to "fix" it, any way that I could. I removed from my life anything and everything that was ever mentioned as an irritation in an effort to be whoever it was that he wanted me to be. Funny thing, though, is that I had spent over 2 decades doing the same thing and it hadn't helped, but I couldn't see it at the time. I was in the middle of costuming The Sound Of Music for LLO when it was spoken of as an issue and I decided that I needed to pull it out of my life. Just as I was doing that, however, I discovered just how far things had deteriorated and there was no hope of salvaging anything. I pulled out of the show anyway, knowing that I would be of no good to anybody, and I had to begin survival strategizing.


During that time I dumped most of my friends, withdrew almost completely from everything and, unfortunately and unintentionally, offended everyone that I knew. They wanted to talk and to understand what was happening, to give me love and support, but I couldn't say a word to anyone, and with my obliterated heart I couldn't feel anything other than the searing pain that ruled my life. I thank God for the girls, they needed me and that got me moving everyday.


Fast forward to today...I've spent alot of time in the past year-plus, reconnecting, apologizing, being very transparent and open about everything. I have begged forgiveness for hurts that I caused that I never meant to do, and in most cases all is well. The hardest of all was to go to Debbie and Brenda, after all that we had been through, and explain what had happened. I knew that they would have understood at the time, had I been able to verbalize anything. But I couldn't, and I hope that someday I will forget the look on Brenda's face when I quit on her during that show. Being the beautiful women that they are, with their gracious hearts, they allowed me to return and in doing so have given me such a gift of life that I can never repay them.


Theatre, for me, is a necessary part of life now. I have beautiful, happy memories(during an unhappy time) of being a child in North Carolina, allowed to run freely through an old theatre house while my mom did costuming for the local company. It must have been their tech weeks when these fabulous adventures occurred, because there were always alot of starts and stops and people moving lights around and hustle/bustle going on. I remember watching my mother, through an open doorway, on her knees with pins in her mouth, fixing the hem on a dress. I also remember her marking the back of a suit jacket, and I was shocked. SHOCKED! I was most definitely NOT allowed to mark on my OWN clothes, what was she doing, to somebody ELSE'S clothes???


I wasn't allowed to talk to her during these times(good thing, given that whole suit situation, which she explained later after discovering why I was pouting and giving her the silent treatment), but I could go anywhere in the building that didn't have a locked door. I watched a record being made once. Actually made. Wax, turntable, grooves, sound...it was so cool! I used to sit in as many seats as I could, to see which was the best one. I played critic, scribbling squiggly lines on paper (cursive writing, you know), chewing on the eraser, nodding my head sagely or tsking every now and again. I remember the director asking me once, as I sat in the very back of the house, if I could hear a particular line. I also remember a young man singing "Mr. Bojangles" and kicking his heels together, so high in the air that it looked like he was flying!


But what I remember with the greatest clarity, is how the theatre smelled and how the sound was so different there, held and contained...a song freely sung, yet captured in it's real state. Not like a recording, which is only a piece of itself. It's hard to put into words.


During dress rehearsal, I wasn't allowed to run the house. I was plopped in the center seat of the front row, with snacks, my blankie, my pillow and my stuffed pony (uniquely named Horsie...I still have him). Warm in my jammies, I would put my head on my pillow, which was always on the left armrest, pull my blankie around me, Horsie under my chin, and settle in, a captive audience. Sometimes the cast would wave or wink at me from the stage. There was a dreamlike, other worldly, feeling to those nights. I remember that I felt enclosed inside the hold of the house, smelling the light mustiness of the seats and curtains, the wood, the paint from the sets. I remember the shuffle and stomp of the dancers across the stage and the solid way that everything sounded. There was nothing light or wispy, it was secure. And warm. And safe.


I would wake up briefly as I was being carried to the car, usually by one of the young men in the cast. And then I would need to wait until the next show to be back there.


And that's what hits me, all at once, everytime I walk into an empty house during tech week. That's why I love tech week, known as Hell Week to most. As soon as I can, I walk to center stage and just stand there, alone, saying hello to my memories and welcoming them back like the precious friends that they are, pieces of my heart returning to home, after weeks of preparing for them during planning and rehearsals. I feel my mother there and I understand her. Even though the whole experience of the theatre was very short in comparison to the rest of my life, it was powerful.


My voice isn't reliable enough since my throat was damaged by a severe case of whooping cough a few years ago to allow me to perform(ensemble only, of course), but I give my gift through serving those who can. With each one of them, a part of me enters the stage and participates in the story. I stress on opening night, attacked by nerves so much so that I am completely sick to my stomach. I dance with them offstage, my heart soaring and singing with them so loudly I wonder that no one can hear it. I want to explode with happiness when they are pleased with their performances and I want to hold them when they are upset. I doubt that they ever know, or could ever guess, how deeply I care for them, how much it matters to me. I am certain that the ones who never leave my heart are unaware. I feel frozen and unable to share what I feel...so I try to show it in ways that are likely never recognized. But I know and with that I take satisfaction.


How could I have shoved this from my life? How far down into despair had I fallen to think that it would help to destroy myself? I was in hell, yes. I rehomed animals, I left my gardens, I gave away all of my possessions except what I needed to function each day. I stopped writing, I stopped dancing, gardening, star gazing and beach walking. I denied myself of everything that brought me happiness before I realized what I was doing.


But coming out of that darkness, back into the light of living, back into the arms of my life, is a sweetness that I would not have known without that journey. I have faced my greatest fears, walked down the path that I didn't choose, and what gifts have I been given? As far as theatre is concerned, never before did the house smell so much of me in all of my memories, never before had the songs been sung so sweetly...never before did I not worry about the jabbed fingers or the lost sleep. Never did the shed tears at success bring such a cleansing joy, even when spilled in private, away from eyes that couldn't know how right it all was. And a story such as Camelot...what could have been more perfect? It was a gift to me, the final closure on a sad book and the affirmation that this was part of a new beginning for me.


I have been finding home again, the home in myself that brings me peace and happiness. In nature, which will surprise nobody who knows me, in simple little things like frogs, tiny flowers, the laughter of those that I care for. In music, in friends, in laughter, in the subtle sharing of selves, in hard work and in the quiet times in between.


And I have found... But that is another post, for another time.

Who Says That Vacations Are Relaxing? Survival, Day Two

As I lay there on the sand, resting, I think that I must have actually slept. I don't really remember anything until I felt water on my feet. That shocked me! I was sick of water! At that moment, I didn't care if I never swam again, or even sat in a bathtub for that matter. I scrambled further up the sand and decided that I had probably better stand up and start walking around. I did, and also began to look at what was around me. Behind me was a gigantic rock in the water that came up to a point. My brain was working enough to tell me that the tide was coming in and that was why the rock seemed to be separate from the land I was on at the moment. But wait, if the tide was coming in, I needed to move...somewhere. Where? There was a lot of sandy beach around me, and then a little rise that seemed to run the length of the beach. That seemed like a safer bet at the moment, and easy enough for me to manage in my tired state, so I headed there.


There was a lot of grass along the base of the little hill, and there were trees on the hill itself. I remember thinking that shade would be nice, because it was really sunny, hot and really, really humid. Oh, great; now I remembered how thirsty I was. Man. Where was my mom when I really needed her?


Even though I really just wanted to sit and cry for a while, something in me said that I had to get busy. I knew that I needed to eat, I needed shelter, and boy! did I need water!


I shaded my eyes and looked toward the rest of the island that I was on. I tried to remember as much as I could from my Survival class at school about how landforms can mean different things...did a plateau mean that there could be a lake up there? Maybe a river or creek or something? I saw that the hill that I was standing on when close to the edge of the water, and hoped that maybe there would be a stream there, or something. I tried to listen for the sound of water, but with the ocean around me, that was kind of all I could hear anyway.


I didn't have far to walk before I could tell that there was some kind of fresh water close by. It might sound weird, but it was almost like I could smell it. I kept moving and there was a small stream, flowing downhill and into the ocean through a channel in the sand. I ran to it and just put my face into that beautiful, cold water. I remembered my mom not letting our dogs drink too much when they were really hot, something about them getting sick, so I made myself stop. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes I threw up. EW! But I rested there, under the shade of a little tree( almost a big bush, really), and then drank a little to see if it would stay down. It did.


While I was resting and waiting, I looked closely at the stream. There were rocks and grass, and visible through the really clear water were little fish! I heard a noise and saw a frog on the back, watching me through little black eyes. It made me feel less alone to see other living things.


After I felt better, I looked around more at where I was. I didn't know what time it was, but it seemed like it would be dark soon. That seemed scary to me, so I wanted to find a place to sleep where I would feel safe...well, safer, at any rate.


There really was a lot to be said for where I was, as far as staying in a good place. There was water, it was close enough to the beach so that I could hopefully be visible while waving at the rescue plane that was going to come for me. It was! I couldn't think that it wouldn't. It had to make sense. They'd miss me soon, if not already, and have to go back to where they had last seen me - right? Of course they would! They, at least, should have a better idea of where I was. All I knew was that I was on an island in the ocean, somewhere around Singapore.


Anyway, I also had the bushy trees to huddle under, and I thought that maybe some of the grasses might make a kind of mat to lie on top of. For the first time, I thought about my clothes. Luckily I hadn't just worn a bathing suit out snorkeling, but a had worn a wetsuit over my leggings, socks and shirt. Whew! I also had a small pack that I had strapped around me with little bits of stuff in it. That meant I had underwear also! I don't know why that made me feel better, but it sure did.


I walked just down the small hill to get some of the grass on the beach and found that it didn't pull out of the ground very easily. Hmmm. This could be a problem, I remember thinking. I just didn't know if there was anything that would help from my pack, but I saw some shells lying on the beach and then I had an idea! I wondered if I could hack at the grasses with the shells and cut them down, since pulling them out wasn't going to work. I gave it a try, and even though it was hard, and took a long time, it did work. I carried the arm full of grass back to my "spot" and spread it out on the ground. I rolled up my wetsuit for a pillow and figured that would be good enough. It'd only be for one night, anyway, I was sure of that.


I was awfully hungry, but after some more water and shifting around, it was getting dark. I was really more tired than anything else. Time enough to find food in the morning, I thought. The dark just seemed to close in on me then. It was full of strange noises and smells. I think that there were bugs crawling over me, but then I spotted some little geckos darting around on the branches over my head. I love geckos, and I knew that there were a lot of them in the Singapore area, so I wasn't scared of them. Besides, I figured, they would eat the bugs around me. At least it was warm out.


I wished that I was home, with my cozy bed and my teddy bear. The stars were awfully pretty; it was a really clear night. I cried a little more, and then I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.