Inner courage

I wrote this in a notebook recently, not sure where I originally found it:

"Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the plowshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner of your heart ready for any seed the winds may bring, and reserve a nook of shadow for the passing bird; keep a place in your heart for the unexpected guests, an altar for an unknown God." 

- From Amiel's journal, translated by Mrs. Humphrey Ward. 

Dreamscape/L Herlevi 2009

 In general, I agree with the sentiment.  Someone suggested a book in this on-line support group, and so I'm examining dark, abandoned corners, hoping to change.  It's those patterns that got programmed young, but now how I automatically respond or act.  The things that probably had their place at one time, but have become constricting and detrimental over time.  I'd like to not always be making my own life harder than it needs to be.  I'd like to get out of my own way.  I'd like to occupy space (to go back to what I kept being told in Meisner, but am understanding more.  Or to quote Kate Winslet's character in that Christmas movie, I'd like to be the leading lady of my own life, and not the support player.)

Wish me the humility and courage to walk through it.

Throwback

I saw the movie Tootsie when it came out in theatres.  I imagine I didn't get a lot out of it, I was a kid, in a small town, with not a lot to do, and we went to the movies.  (I remember seeing 9 to 5 also, but I liked that one more at the time.)  Anyway, I've had an itch to watch it over the past month or so, possibly because I heard the Stephen Bishop song somewhere.  A few weekends ago, I was flipping through channels on the tv and it was on, so I watched the last half.  Last week, I finally went to the video store and rented it.  It's so good.

The cast is strong; the acting, timing, and improv are great (Teri Garr, as Sandy, is hilarious.)  The story's good, basically, Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman) learns how to be a better man by pretending to be a woman.  The writing (plot, story arc, character arc, set-up, resolution), directing, cinematography, editing, all great.

I watched it with the commentary on last night, which was fun.  And Sydney Pollack (director) is generous in the info he shares: helpful for actors, screenwriters, directors, and cinematographers.  He talks about the choices made in all of the above, the why and the how.  I might have to buy it for the commentary, I'm getting a lot out of it.

My only critique would be as to the use of point-of-view in some of the single shots, and this is from sitting in the critiques in the directing for film class, (and it's often shot this way), when the characters are facing each other, and the camera angle is coming in from the side and not over-the-shoulder of the receiving character, I wonder who's looking at the character speaking.  If I'd never sat through the critiques, I probably wouldn't care, and it doesn't necessarily distract from the story, but I notice it now.

Lately

It's feast or famine with my library holds: four at once, including one I wanted to read for the Bingo thing.  On Monday, the  morning was socked in with a dry fog.  In the evening, three hours of singing rehearsal, Oma Maa is sounding good, and we have our first gig of other music this weekend.

Been walking a lot to make up for being immobile for three months.  The trees are glorious, I missed half the summer.  The air is suddenly chilled in the morning.  Everything changing.

Can't find my camera, not a lot of places it could've gotten to, but still, it eludes me.

Saturday morning.  Empty.  A few hardy souls line up in their winter jackets, waiting for the car tabs place to open.  I'm looking for a cash machine.  Later, two hours at the Farmer's Market, talking to people.  Cooking, cleaning out the cabinet, post-ant situation, although, there were still some around.

Digging through 14 boxes to find one small box I offered to give away, and when I was at the point of aching until I wanted to scream, and couldn't stand to be home anymore, I got up and went to a party where I wouldn't really know anyone, but the possible social awkwardness seemed a better option than being alone with my thoughts for the evening.  I was late, but the musicians were still playing, and ended up being people I liked, and everyone was nice; no cliques. Two hours later, I walked home, and I was fine again.  The rain had passed, leaving the pavement wet, but the clouds scuttled across a rising moon, now you see it, now you don't.  It wasn't too late, and if felt good to be able to walk.

On Sunday, a detour home through the ravine, for more nature time.  And then later, having been lazing around the house for hours, watching youtube videos, a walk out to Aurora to donate some old clothes in a drop box, and then continuing around the lake, even though the light was quickly fading.  A glorious evening, Jane's Addiction's "Summertime Rolls" playing in my head the whole time I walked, even though it is no longer summer.  Briefly stopped by the spider metropolis to give myself the heebie-jeebies, but they were down in numbers, and perhaps it was too early for them to be cruising around much.  I continued home, my favorite time of day, post-sunset, pre-fully darkened sky.  Dark enough to not really see the ground, a few of the brighter stars visible, but dreamy all the same.

Insomnia.  Feeling like someone is sticking a knife in my chest, which is hopefully just a hormonal thing, my doctor didn't seem overly concerned, though I did go get a mammogram, which are always fun, if thankfully, brief.  (And I tell myself that if it were a heart attack, I'd probably already be dead, been going on for a while.  It's how I calm myself when I wake up with it in the middle of the night.)  Walking back along rarely traveled paths (for me), enjoying a brief stint of shake-up to my morning routine: boats gleam on the water, piles of small stones in regular intervals on the sidewalk, oak trees with leaves in green, gold, orange, red, and black: magnificent.  A chill in the air, and the sky thickening with clouds, but no rain, yet.  Walking northward, until a bus shows up to get me to work.

Monday

Saw a lot of heavy theatre this weekend (Belarus Free Theatre's "Burning Doors" at On the Boards, a friend's reading of a new play, and Fantastic Z's powerful production of Geoffrey Nauffts' "Next Fall" at the Ballard Underground) and then woke up to the news from Las Vegas.  Comfort and strength to all who are oppressed or suffering.  We have work to do.

Cheryl Waters played this song earlier on KEXP today, and since it was also the song-of-the-day, I've now listened to it about 50 times.  (Anything else feels jarring.)

Iron and Wine, "Call it Dreaming."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=BXC80ZXQhvQ

Change

Today would've been a good day to play hooky: probable last super nice day of the year, it's already 84 degrees out.  I had an appointment to get my foot looked at this morning, and the doctor was running an hour behind schedule (and I couldn't reschedule as he's going out of town, plus I was already there, and I want to stop wearing the boot as soon as I can; it's gonna be raining more, and because of blood clot risk.)  Five more weeks until he wants me to start PT, and if it doesn't hurt, I can switch to an ankle brace instead of the boot.  I didn't make it into work until 1:30 pm.

For last night's insomnia, I did a personal strength quiz (VIA, it ranks 24 strengths; my top had to do with learning and knowledge, my 22nd was self-regulation, which I mention because I've known that one was weak, and have been trying to work on it.)  It's funny, I'd bought Gretchen Rubin's book (Better than Before) about forming habits a while back, but had gotten stuck on trying to figure out what my tendency was, then recently there was a quiz attached to an article, which calculated it for me: Rebel (basically, rebel against outer and inner rules, so I have to find some other reason.  Shame doesn't work.  Cost doesn't work., etc.)  Anyway, I was talking to my dental hygienist about (not) flossing regularly, decided to be completely transparent about it (usually I make myself floss some few weeks before the appointment.)  And things like gum recession or future surgery don't work, because they are an unknown somewhere in the future which may or may not arrive.  And he gave me a reason, which I think will work.  (You'll have to find your own.)

The self-regulation gets harder as I get older.  I think I had other conditioning that has faded over time, that formerly overran my rebel-nature, and it doesn't anymore.  A friend was saying she has the same problem.  But I also figured out where all that came from, too.  Not sure what to do about it, but acknowledgment is a start.  I'm trying to learn that what I want and need, matters, and that a lot of the things I do on automatic are not based on actual truths.  (Just because something is ingrained, doesn't mean it's true, or should continue to be acted upon.)  And the angry god, paternalism, doesn't carry the weight it once did, a good thing, but it leaves a void.  And control through fear is unhealthy and dangerous, at any level.

Meeting the friend (not the phone call person) has brought up a lot of this.  Things that hurt, that I need to deal with.  Things I need to change in my own behavior, especially towards myself.  (I also have been feeling listless and depressed; irrationally, it feels like I just went through the break-up again, something that happened more than half my lifetime ago.)

Finding out new things every day.  Ultimately, I suppose it's for the best.  It sucks.

Monday

Put my sweater on backward, again.  I noticed as I was leaving the house, but wanted to get to work on time, so left anyway.  I really should put a new light-bulb in.

Worked on a video shoot last night for a performance project.  It's for illustrating the project to potential venues.  It's slow-tempo movement; it was fun.  I'd been looking forward to it all month, but was still anxious all weekend about not wearing the "right" clothing.  I could've emailed someone about it, but didn't.  In the end, what I had was fine (and I mentioned that to one of the other actors, she said she did the same thing.)  Anxiety: welcome to my head.  Anyway, I hope the project happens, and I can be a part of the actual work.  I love performing (and it's a cool project.)

My co-worker thinks I should talk to the phone-call person.  I was thinking about it yesterday, I agree.  We have to work together, it'd be weird to not acknowledge it, and less cowardly to deal with it on my part.  (Although, still have to figure out the circumstances to address it.)

And I was wrong.  On deeper thought, I know what I want.

Awkward

I had a voice message from someone I've been loosely associated with for a while, and somehow his saying his name made me realize that we briefly dated back when I was 22 or 23.  (We actually had met in high school at a camp or something.)  If he hadn't said his name, I wouldn't have made the connection.  He doesn't look the same at all.  I'd forgotten about it (blocked it out?  I dated a lot of people at 23, more than the rest of my life put together.  None of it meant anything, i.e., wasn't serious, not for them, I don't think, either.)  I'd briefly had a crush on him in high school, but dating was weird: dark, borderline abusive.  After thinking about it, I now remember one of my roommates saying at the time, to our third roommate, plus myself, that he wasn't gonna change our phone number because we gave our number to people and then didn't want to answer the phone.  And now it's awkward.  I actually hope he doesn't make the connection at all.  (Or hasn't, apparently, I'm really slow.)  Or hopefully I'm wrong, and it's not the same person.  (Most likely, it is. We had a conversation about something we had in common some months ago, which increases the odds.)  I don't want to leave something that's important to me, kinda' done with all that, actually, the whole shrinking of my life: it was my world first.  (And I'll accept that people can change over time.  It was a long time ago.)

For the record, I've blacked a lot of things out.  (Or perhaps they've all blurred together in my memory, and now suddenly, they are separating into the individual stories that they are.  All of them, let loose by a phone call.) The political climate has brought stuff back up, stuff I'd rather not remember, though I'm surprised I'd forgotten about some of it, didn't happen all that long ago.  (The memories are real, I wrote about them at the time.  I've kept journals since high school, plus I told the friends I was with.)

I find that I'm unexpectedly free.  I should finish the book; "Anne of Green Gables."  It's sweet, and poetic, and I originally picked it up because I remembered that my mom liked the series on public  television.  It's a nice respite from most everything else I've been reading.  And I've been getting "your library book is way past due" emails.  It is.

Dealing with myself

Woke up late.  Less pissed off (almost not, bothers me still, but I'm not pissed.)  Had insomnia and a long ear worm playing in my head around 3 am, and my leg hurt.  Dreamt about travel, but never arriving, never actually taking off, and the destination kept changing (as did the people I was traveling with.)  I wondered how much time I'd taken off of work, and then wondered if I'd actually gotten around to telling anyone.  And then I sat at a different chair at a long table for dinner, so never got the food I ordered.  Left wondering if I still had to pay for it (the bill never came), and hungry.  Walking back to our rooms, a co-worker was suddenly there, and she grabbed something out of a display case to eat, I asked if we could do that, she just did it anyway.  (Go ahead and take what you need?)  I woke up before I took any food.  Stumbling around because I wasn't fully awake, but didn't want to be late for work.

Head more clear.  Cold-read, but haven't finished the book.  Trying to face my own issues, so that they don't overtake my head, apparently, I think too much: rumination.  (I wasn't wishing I was anywhere, or with anyone, else.)  Would like to focus on doing something useful in the world.  Much greater issues than mine: feeling used to get back at/gain the attention of someone who wasn't in the room.  His trying to feel something that he can't, doesn't, is not in a place for; that is what it is, the latter is life, not everything is gonna work.  And I think I was too bold, anyway.  Obviously it's the first part that bothers me, feels like sleight-of-hand, had been under the impression it was a date, with me.  And it's true, it bothers me, in general, when you're hanging out with someone, friend/date/family member, and they are checking their phone the whole time (he wasn't doing that), it's the idea of being present with who you are with.  So, what's my issue that this bothers me more than that?  History (shared) and baggage (mine.)  Thought I dealt with this, ugh.  And I guess I need to face it again, now; if not now, I'll have to face it again later.  Do we get good at this? (Edited this at 3 am on Saturday, because I don't feel like writing a different post.  Plus, someone is stomping around downstairs, so, probably not falling back asleep until they stop.  Have to go lead a work party in the morning.)

Still, I do have to take care of myself.  What I want matters too, for me, for any healthy relationship; and I'm not sure what that is.

Wednesday

Aid, prayers, and love for Puerto Rico and Mexico.  Protection for the Rohingya.

Where I'm at

"Something doesn't actually need to be real in order to have power in our lives."  Stolen from a friend's facebook post.