Reverb 14: Lady Luck?

Luck | Is luck what you get?  Or is luck what you make?  When have you been lucky?  When did you create your own fortune?

In the play "Jake's Women," by Neil Simon, there is a character named Edith who is the title character's psychiatrist and a somewhat peppery, pull-no-punches one. She tells Jake, "We create our own destiny. There are always options."

Ever since I got to play Edith long ago in Birmingham, Ala., I have pretty much lived by that line, and more than once I have actively pursued an outcome that I wanted -- and succeeded in attaining it, although I will say that few things ever happen EXACTLY as you envision them. There always seem to be a few curves thrown in just because the Universe likes to watch.

Like Edith, I believe luck is what you make -- although that does not explain why some people seem to be able to walk into a casino, for instance, and walk out many dollars ahead, time after time. (I make an annual $20 donation to whatever tribe has the casino, it seems, and very rarely have I walked away with more than I left there.)

Luck is having the courage to walk through an open door that appears after you've already done a lot of excavation and exploration. Luck is risking your current rut, comfortable or not, for something that seems like it will work better for you at that time. Luck is making a phone call or applying for a job or going to a meeting where you know nobody, and finding that your life has changed in ways you would never have imagined.

Luck is not random, except in Bunco or, perhaps, in gambling games of chance. Then we call it luck, but there is nothing calculated or planned about it.

When I realized at almost age 50 that I did not want to look back at the end of my life and wonder 'what if...', I began to build a new life: I picked where I 'knew' I needed to be: California, near the ocean --and then began to work actively to make that move happen. I solicited advice and help from practically anyone in my company who might be able to help me do that, and eventually it paid off with a job offer in one of the San Francisco branches. There were glitches and heartaches and scary moments along the way, but I moved more than halfway across the country because I knew I had to do this.

Had I been told at that time, some 17 years ago, I would eventually live in a rural northern California community with the great love of my life (and a bunch of spoiled kitties)  in a house we designed and had built, I would have snorted in amusement. And total disbelief.

Yet here I am.

I created my own destiny, and was blessed to find someone (taking that risk of walking into something unknown) who also believed in creating his own destiny. We visualized what we wanted, and we worked hard to make it happen.

Until we get to the very end of our lives, until we are drawing our last breath, we can always create our own destiny....we always have options....Options. Thank you, Edith.
***********

I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.
~ Hermann Hesse (Siddhartha)

Once in a Blue August Moon: Day 6 -- Zeniths and Nadirs

The prompt: The zeniths and the nadirs. Where have the highlights and low points been for you so far in 2013? Where are you now? How would you like your year to end?

Actually, you'd think I was on antidepressants (I'm not): I haven't had moments of great joy nor of great sorrow this year, and I'm oh so good with that continuing.

I have had moments of tremendous gratitude, like when I came out of the anesthetic after surgery, gasping and sleepy, but so glad I was awake and alive and all right.

Quiet and all-encompassing feelings of gratitude and enormous contentment at very ordinary things, like sitting with my honey and kitties, watching a favorite television show, in a darkened great room with woodstove firelight flickering; tiny white lights high above the stove in a built-in alcove silhouetting the angels I have sitting there, some from my mother including one painted by one of her close friends (both of them now dead), another from a wonderful former client, and all watchful and comforting.

Pleasure at attending a live theater performance -- we don't miss many, if any -- from the Cascade Theatre or Riverfront Playhouse or Shasta College in Redding. The variety of plays and talent is broad: some are fun because the cast members try so hard; others are memorable because the acting is so professional; others reflect such amazing talent in the script. Occasionally, as in "The Women of Lockerbie" which we saw yesterday at Riverfront, and "Fiddler on the Roof" at the Cascade a few months ago, both outstanding script and exceptionally talented cast combine for an unforgettable and stunning performance. I love watching live theater. I love being on stage in an amazing play even more, but those roles don't come often.

I've found little delights in mundane things: wearing a fun pair of comfortable shoes that make me smile every time I look at them. Savoring a piece of really delicious pie with good friends. Feeling sleek and stylish every time I get my hair cut in the precise, angled style I am wearing, greys and whites gleaming in the salon light, and swinging neatly as I walk. Stretching and moving in the dim yoga studio, imagining the muscles and ligaments easing into the familiar positions, and the spiritual grace of 'namaste' we offer at the close of the session. Loving the gleam of clean floors and fixtures after my friend has worked her magic on my house.

Clean, soft sheets every week and the cool green bedroom where we sleep every night, holding hands as we drift off. Reaching to touch my honey in the night, just grateful he is there and breathing.

Anticipation at traveling in our new-to-us travel trailer with our beloved kitties coming along rather than being left at home or in a kennel where they are frightened and surly because they are not with us -- and the comfort we all feel at being together in bed every night. The prospect of spending more than a week beside our mighty-mighty ocean in several campgrounds, reveling in the crash of waves, the salt air, the age-old power that emanates from its depths and stills our souls and minds.

There are low points as well, but far fewer.

Moments of frustration and apprehension: learning that I would have to have a general anesthetic rather than a twilight one just before I went into the OR. 

Times of worry and fear for a loved one who seems to repeat the same patterns without ever learning the lessons that I see so clearly. Ongoing grief for the loss of what might have been, and reluctant distrust in what I am being told and not told.

Anxiety and fear during episodes of afib that seem to occur approximately monthly, although they nearly always revert spontaneously within a few hours to a steady sinus rhythm. (And such gratitude that they do.)

Where am I now? I work daily on gratitude and calm and energy, focusing the energy where I need it most at that moment. I know that nothing is permanent; everything changes, and that the good (which I try to savor as it happens) will pass away as well as the not-good. I am grateful to be who and where I am, and overwhelmingly grateful that I am loved so dearly and deeply by a man who I love just as dearly and deeply. That is THE BEST of my life.

By the end of the year? More joy. More things that make me smile and feel happy. Any health apprehensions addressed and resolved, or at least treated. More awareness of how great a gift life is EVERY SINGLE DAY. More writing. More decluttering of stuff. More spirit.

Amen.

The Vagina Monologues -- year four

Tonight was the first rehearsal for the 2012 "The Vagina Monologues," presented for the fourth year locally and for the second year in Redding. I'm delighted to again be part of this cast, and also to be doing the same monologue as I've done for the last three years -- "The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy."

The production is a part of the larger international organization, VDay, founded by playwright Eve Ensler, and dedicated to ending violence against women and girls. It is not only about ending domestic violence, it also puts a spotlight on rape as an instrument of war and as genocide, and violent acts of hatred or anger that harm women or girls. It's about educating audiences and broadening attitudes.

The play is funny, angry, sad, introspective, bawdy, shocking. It can take an audience to tears in one moment and have them rolling in laughter the next. There are some new monologues this year that our audiences have not heard before, and we have a number of new cast members, several from Redding.

The monologues are the words of women who were interviewed by Ensler, and we never forget that: we interpret to audiences their words, which are real stories, not imaginary situations. Men are welcome: it is not a play only for women.

Performances are in Redding on Saturday, Feb. 25, 4 and 7:30 pm, and in Red Bluff on Saturday, March 3, at 7 pm. I'll post ticket links when they are up. The proceeds benefit Girls Inc. of the Northern Sacramento Valley, and part is also sent to the international VDay organization to help with the work they're doing to aid women.

I hope you'll come. Or if you aren't from here, please use the VDay link to find a performance near you, and go see it. It is important.

Reverb 11--Day 15-- Passion and Teachers

#1 Prompt: Passion: What did you become/continue to be sincerely passionate about in 2011? When you are in the moment doing something you love what does look + feel like? 

#2 Prompt: Teaching Moment - Sometimes we find teachers in the most unexpected places. Who surprised you as a teacher this year, and what did you learn?


#1 -- There was not much passion in much of anything that I did in 2011 -- this last year has been one more of just getting through it. I don't like feeling so uncreative and stagnant, so am planning to rev that up in 2012.

I was able to get onstage a couple of times, though -- two Vagina Monologues performances ("The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy" -- I adore doing that one with all the fun moans and the fabulous audience response) and two Red Bluff mystery dinner theater productions of "What You Seize is What You Get."  And one read-through of "Night, Mother," a dark play about suicide that I'd hoped to do with a wonderful Redding actress and friend, but the producer decided it was too much of a downer. Our read-through had everyone in tears, however, and I think we would have rocked it. Ah, well.


When I'm onstage, however, everything else disappears and I'm just THERE, right THERE, and totally focused on what is. The words and actions and character just flow through me (assuming adequate preparation and rehearsal, that is) and out into the audience. I love, LOVE, that feeling, and when the audience responds, it is an enormous rush of joy and power. I've been told by others that I bring an energy to the stage that boosts not only my performance, but that of the whole production, and if that's true, it makes my heart glad. A live performance is thrilling (and scary too) because you get THAT ONE shot at it for that particular audience. Every show is different.


I love writing when I'm in the zone and all I'm thinking of is words on screen, but that is never, ever a one-shot best performance deal. It's totally different energy.


#2 -- I've believed for years in the Buddhist proverb: "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." Understanding who the teacher is isn't always quite so simple, however, which makes me think of a quote from Robert Hunter's lyrics "Scarlet Begonias: "Once in a while/you get shown the light/in the strangest of places/if you look at it right."

One of my teachers this year was very evident: my yoga instructor, who is also a wonderful, very intuitive massage therapist, and an energetic, insightful, spiritual friend to boot. I learn from her with nearly every class, but also have enjoyed her company in other venues this year. She is straightforward, kind, open, and I so appreciate her presence in my life and the things I continue to learn from her.

Another teacher  -- categorized perhaps 'in the strangest of places' -- was an actor in the murder mystery production who showed me why I was where I needed to be this year and what really matters about it. I admit that sometimes my attitude in rehearsal was way less than positive, and the role was not particularly challenging, the play was  -- well, let's say it was, um, not meaty, and the director likes to direct on the fly, changing things right up to the dress rehearsal -- and beyond --. 

We talked at some length over several weeks, and I finally understood that the important part was the relationships with the cast members (even though it was a fund-raiser, and a very successful one at that): meeting and working with people of all ages and stages, and nurturing friendships, not the play itself, really. Most of the actors have done little, if any, theater in the past and aren't likely to do much more than another mystery dinner, but they are enthusiastic and talented and committed, with schedules that are far busier than my own. He definitely showed me the light, and I value his friendship and perspective.

Another 'teacher' this year was the April issue of O Magazine that featured poetry by Mary Oliver. That dark and stormy night when I read her poem "The Journey" was a life-changing moment for me, and I've been able to see more clearly what I must do ever since. I wrote about that 'aha' moment.

I am grateful for such teachers and I hope that I have the clarity of thought to recognize them when they are there for me. 

 

Reverb 11 -- Day 8 -- Labels and Joy

#1 -- Prompt: What label/story/box/belief clipped your wings this year? How can you flip the script in 2012? What’s your new story?

#2 -- Prompt: Joy. Take us back to a moment in 2011 when you experienced pure, unadulterated joy.

#1 -- I'm pretty sure of myself: a strong woman, reasonably confident in who I am, what I love, what I believe. I believe in change and in growth. But my belief in who I am and what I can do was shaken substantially recently by a casual comment made by a friend during a committee meeting.

For three years I have participated in an annual theater performance benefit. I've performed the same role -- an outrageously funny, bawdy, even slightly shocking monologue that had audiences -- and the cast -- rolling with laughter. I love acting and am eager to do this piece again as well as more theater in 2012. I think I'm pretty good at it -- I've been told that by people whose opinions I respect, and the audience seems to respond well to my characters, both this one and others..

So. During the course of the meeting, as we were discussing how to get more people involved in the production, my friend commented, nudging me,  that …”we’re getting too old to do this.” I gave her a long look of – I don’t know – surprise? Shock? Denial? – and she added, “Well, I’m getting too old.”

Much later, the ice weasels started their partying, eventually settling into a steady chant of "You’re too old! You’re too old!”  It woke me up this morning an hour before I normally am conscious. And I began questioning whether or not I was indeed ‘too old’ to do not only this particular event, but pretty much anything in theater.

“You’re 64 years old!” they taunted. “You look ridiculous up there, saying such age-inappropriate things and making a total FOOL of yourself! Stick a fork in it, tootsie, you’re done! You’re too OLD to act anymore, honey, and nobody is brave enough to tell you!”

We don’t see ourselves as others see us. I see from INSIDE looking out at the world, and while that ‘me’ is not only perfectly capable of doing pretty much anything she wants to do, she also doesn’t feel ‘old’ (mostly). But I began questioning how OTHERS, especially those who don’t know me, might see me on stage, and concluded that perhaps I AM ‘too old.’ The idea just completely flipped my whole impression of who I am and what I should be doing with the rest of my life, and I didn't like what I was feeling or thinking.

I’ve talked since with a few people who I knew would be honest with me, and I’m not ready to throw it all in just yet. As long as directors cast me in roles and I’m capable of memorizing lines and blocking, I’m staying onstage.  I’ve never done well with labels since I never quite fit into societal or corporate boxes. TOO OLD is not going to be one I allow in my life either, not yet.

#2 – We vacationed on the Oregon coast this fall in a lovely rental apartment that had a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the mighty, mighty ocean endlessly washing over the little beach below our deck. It had been raining and blowing for a couple of days, and we had snugged in with plenty of food, snacks, and reading material.

One particular afternoon, I was propped with numerous pillows on the cushy chaise end of a sectional sofa that faced that glassed wall, and had an afghan covering my legs and feet while I read my lusciously long and detailed novel. Most afternoons I’d close my eyes for 15 or 20 minutes, dozing a little, relishing the quiet, the solitude, and pleasure of just being by the ocean and doing exactly what we wanted to do.

This afternoon, though, Tony had moved from a nearby chair where he had settled with his laptop to the sofa next to me, and put his head on my lap, the rest of him covered with another fleecy afghan. The ocean’s constant roar – louder that usual because of the storm – was soothing, the light was soft, and we were warm and together. With my hand lightly stroking Tony’s head, I closed my eyes and gave thanks for such a perfect moment of joy.

June doings

It's not for lack of subjects or opinions that I haven't posted since early this month. I have plenty to say, as those who know me well will attest, and sometimes I'm sure they wish I'd shut up.

I participated in a mystery dinner theater mid month to benefit our county's branding project -- a fund raiser for a professional marketing and branding guru to create campaigns that highlight our county's biggest assets -- among them are wine and olives.

It was an experience. I've done this before, about five years ago, and it's fairly corny -- lots of scantily clad women (excluding me, I might add), chase scenes, cat fights, raunchy humor, and a thin plot. The crowd loved it. It was a sellout both nights. And it involved a fair bit of rehearsal that last week, and a lot of willingness to adapt and change. It wasn't a particularly artistic experience and I sure didn't 'stretch' my acting -- I mean, I can play overbearing and bitchy blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back -- but the cast members are wonderful and I loved nurturing those relationships. That was the payoff for me.

On top of that  I'd waited until the 11th hour to finish the 45-hour required real estate coursework to renew my license for another four years, not that I really plan on using it. But it took a lot of work to get it and you never know... so I was studying and taking online tests during the early part of the month as well. It's done. I could indeed sell real estate again in California, under a licensed broker. 

And then there was a memorial service for a woman we met only a few times but are good friends with her partner and wanted to support him. It was an amazing service and I only hope that when my time comes that people are as loving and generous with their tributes as we heard at this service.

One thing in particular made me wish I'd known her better. Her spiritual path was very important to her and she'd studied in India, worked with practitioners from various spiritual paths, and her service was held in a Christian church designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She was completely comfortable incorporating ALL of these practices into her own spiritual belief system and embraced all of them -- I love that, and found that to be eye-opening, especially since there were so many others there who seemed to feel the same way. The service was a mashup of  Eastern chants, Christian ritual, music from all of them, and poetry. Many were dancing at the end as a trio sang "The Great Storm"; my leaky face dripped tears because it was so perfect, such a joyous acknowledgement of who this woman was, of who we all can be.

There is no doubt that her children and our friend will miss her terribly, and there were moments of grief that just tore at your heart, but it was a great sending-off and ended with a reception and chocolate cake -- her wishes, since she was known for her desserts and homemade bread. She was only 65 and died of cancer -- a fairly prolonged death, hard on her and those who loved her.

Then this last Saturday, we recorded Tony's first radio theater script for New Radio Theater. His is an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and a number of wonderful north state actors came together to interpret it. We were cast as the great cobra Nag and his wife Nagaina, and had a great time hissing evilly. This is Tony's first script and he was just delighted that it was accepted and recorded for play later in July. I'll put the date and time as soon as I know for sure. It was quite a red-letter day for him, and I was very proud of him and the end result. He's now at work on an original script.

And earlier in the month we had a lovely picnic with our now three-year-old grandson, his brothers and sister, and our daughter V in a park area near their home. Gabe took to the plasmacar that we gave him without any instruction and rode it all over the adjacent parking lot, as did the other kids and even his momma! It was a fun afternoon, a little piece of normalcy and celebration within a lot of busy-ness and turmoil. 

That's the 'doing' stuff for this month. There has been more 'being' stuff going on too, some of which I'm still pondering and trying to figure out. Not all of it has been especially fun -- including the ongoing state of the economy and turmoil over the budget, and with that, Medicare and Social Security, topics which at our age loom quite large in our priorities. Change is afoot for our children again, and we have become pretty good at holding our opinions and tongues close, although it is an uneasy compromise at times.

And the month which began in rain and cool weather also draws to a close with more rain and cool temperatures today (although we'll be up to 100 this weekend again) -- unusual weather for these parts, welcome though it was. Friday will bring a new month with new beginnings and who knows what endings we may find.

"All My Sons" in Redding is marvelous material and strong acting

We went to see the Riverfront Playhouse's production of Arthur Miller's "All My Sons" this weekend. Riverfront is in Redding and where I did 'Steel Magnolias' in 2009.

It was easily the best play we've seen in the North State, including the touring companies that come to Redding. The acting was simply stellar -- there was not a weak link in the cast. The set was creative and detailed, moreso than many we've seen.

But you just can't beat the core material. Arthur Miller wrote this play back in 1947, some 63+ years ago, and it still stands up to scrutiny. It's period-specific in the plot line, but not in the message, which is universal and timeless.

We've seen a lot of plays at Riverfront in the last few years (and are sorry we missed out on so many since we've lived here), and honestly some of them should not have ever seen a spotlight. It's not the acting -- there are some excellent actors in this neck of the woods -- but the material.

As do so many community theaters, this one tries to put butts in seats to keep funds coming in. Not only are there the monthly bills to pay, but the theater is still raising funds for the new theater which has been purchased but needs major renovation before the first curtain is raised. Other groups in the area are helping, but it's always a major task, especially in these hard times, and northern CA has been hard-hit with the loss of construction-related jobs as well as others.

But this play should show the governing board that not only is there an audience for drama, good drama, but classic plays -- good, solid, engaging literature that challenges both the actors and the audiences. The actors in this production are mostly new to the area and are wonderfully talented. If you put it out there, the talent will appear. It did. It will. And I hope we see more like this.

Bay area weather!

I'm hearing people complain about the cool weather we've had this month -- highs barely reaching 70 on many days, and lows touching the lower 40s at night -- far more like early April than like late May.

I love it. We actually had a fire in the woodstove Saturday morning and I expect we'll have another one sometime this week Now mind you, week before last we had a fire on Monday and were running the swamp cooler by Friday, although it wasn't really hot yet -- close to 90, maybe.

I'm still alternating between sweatshirts and teeshirts most days. Tony actually mowed and it was fairly cool outside a week ago, pretty much. I've done some garden work and it has been pleasant. No, it's not in yet, but the tomatoes wouldn't like these temps anyway, so I'm not stressing over it.

I expect that we'll explode into the 100s sometime within the next month, but even forestalling that by a month is a real blessing. I know the Midwest and South are heating up but so far, we're 20 degrees below normal on most days.

Downtown Red Bluff had a Girlfriends Day on Saturday and I hope it was well attended. I went with a girlfriend to HeartFelt Designs and ended up spending nearly all my time there, although I did get a lovely 15 minute chair massage elsewhere that only convinced me that I need an hour-long one and probably more than that.

But I also had a Reiki session with Jessie Woods which was very encouraging for me. I like angels -- I have several figures that my mother had, perched high over the wood stove on our plant shelf there, and I have always liked the idea of guardian angels. She strongly believes in angels, both human and spirit, and told me that I have several, including one large one nearby. She gave me some suggestions to ground myself every day in order to feel balanced and centered, and I'm trying that. It was helpful and I've felt good ever since. More positive...

And she is even my neighbor, which we realized only at the end of the session. That makes it even more significant for me.

Last night we attended auditions at Riverfront Playhouse in Redding for a new murder mystery musical play by Bill and Lisa Collins. Tony doesn't have the flexibility to be able to play at this point, but he wanted to observe, and there was a juicy role that I wanted to attempt. It was fun -- lots of good people, good readings, including mine. However, one of the things a director must look for is how people match up physically -- and I knew that I was an unlikely candidate when I saw the overall age and size of the auditioners. There is a another round tonight, but I'm not holding my breath. I had a great time, was very happy with my interpretation (and so were the directors, I believe), but I don't think this one is going to happen for me, and I'm good with that. There will be others. I got to see some friends from Steel Magnolias and see another Vagina Monologues actress who'd come to audition, and those were totally worth the trip!

Not very profound today, I guess -- but our life is in the details and in how you savor each of them. I like watching the clouds blowing in in preparation for more rain tomorrow, I like having the kitties climb in my lap wanting a snuggle, I like folding clean laundry and thinking of something good and nutritious to fix for supper. I do feel very focused and centered, thank you very much, and am trying to stay in the moment today.