Delights and miracles!

Hi everyone, so sorry for anyone who is actually reading this that I’m not posting more often but now that I’m home and teaching, etc. it’s harder to find time to write.  However, I imagine everyone else has busy lives so doubt you are waiting with baited breath for my every word, alas…

But, here’s the good news – there’s a new delight and lightness in my life.  It’s from many things but includes work I’m doing with my therapist and contacting a part of me that somehow stayed clear of all the bullshit when I was growing up, she’s quite young but lovely and loving and I’m setting aside time to play with her and it’s a delight.  I don’t know if I ever thought I’d use that word but there it is: delight.  Joyful, sometimes makes me cry too.

Speaking of which, in a class I was teaching, a woman came in and was doing something called Playback Theater, which is a way that actors recreate stories from audience member’s lives.  One of the students told a story of seeing his father for the first time when he was five and living in Nigeria and then again at 10 when his father got the family to London.  It was simple but quite extraordinary in its detail and loveliness (and sadness and pain and unexpected joy at the end), and the other students who were not yet trained in this type of theater did a good job portraying it.  At the end the ‘conductor’ asked what he thought and he was crying.  She was able to have him say he was OK even though crying, and it was all quite moving.  However, I was concerned for the student as I was afraid he might feel too exposed.  But then the second miracle of the day happened, right afterwards, a bunch of the other male students came up to him and were touching him and hugging him and making sure he was OK.  You have to realize when I write this that this is in a deprived area of the city, the kids are multi-cultural and none wealthy and that most of the men I’m talking about are straight, to understand what I saw and how unexpected in a good way it all was.  Female students were also very sympathetic, but that I kind of expect.  So, I realized he was in good hands and all was well.

I think it was the night before the miners were being rescued in Chile which also made me happy.  So there is a general lightness I am feeling and an amazement.  It reminds me of a time back when I was in college and directed The Serpent, which was a play by Joseph Chaikin’s Open Theater and it opened up my whole world – it was all about newness and the first time and the Garden of Eden and its destruction and something about it just opened me and it feels like that now again, but it’s my whole life, not just a play.  I wonder how this will play out in my work, don’t know yet.  But it’s so exciting to feel this again.  I never thought I would and certainly not at 47.  It’s amazing.

And then person after person I know comes up to me and says: you look great, you look so much calmer and happier.  It just keeps happening over and over.  So I am grateful for that and that is that.

I could go into a rant here about the government here and cutting education and how crazy they are, but I’m sure there are many who will do the same, are doing the same, have done the same and I doubt I will add anything particularly penetrating to that debate other than to say if folks start taking to the street, you’ll see me there cause the kids I’m teaching now no way are they there without a subsidized system and they deserve to be there and I hope we as a whole social body will fight for them and that they will fight for themselves as well.  The happy-clappy ruling class pseudo-hippie empowerment talk is nauseating and I hope we can all get off our collective i-pods and onto the street.

And for me, if I’m on the street, these days, I’ll be dancing. A happy warrior.

"Achieved small and uncreative things today"

This was the last amazing line of an email from a friend of mine recently who had had a sad day in response to something the day before and somehow it just seemed kind of gorgeous so I'm sharing it with you all (with her permission).

It is reminiscent of that moment after crying when all you can do is put on the kettle for tea or wash the dishes.  Somehow these things are OK after that, simple kind of lovely, definitely comforting.

I haven't written because upon my return I was suddenly given two university modules to teach and have been reeling with preparations and teaching.  Had a kind of scary therapy session in the middle of one such day because I was So tired that I was clutching the chair.  She asked me, the therapist, if I could like to lie down, No, no I said...realizing slowly how vulnerable I feel when tired and how my response to tiredness of that order is to Do More.  Terrifying memories of being with the crazy babysitter that held me hostage and realizing: I Can't Go to Sleep.  And this is still there, along with whatever body memories of sexual abuse.  Must remain vigilant at All Times.  Truly scary.

And as usual when saying it, letting it out, it somehow diminished a bit.  But here I am staring at her staring at me realizing I am Still stuck there after all these years, stuck in that room with that crazy woman and before that with a delusional and sick man, That room, it's horrifying.  And so like No wonder I have 'abandonment issues' which when stated that way sounds So lame...but yet, even though I sleep way better when I'm alone than when I'm with anyone else, I still fear being alone, even Though in my childhood, alone was one of the best options.

It's this thing, it's this...I keep Waiting for the Perfect Parent. STILL!  I am incredulous about this.  I am 47 for godsake.  47!  How the fuck did That happen?

OK, so OK, so OK...

This is where I am.

And I am looking the motherfucker right in the face, I am, and that is Something.  It might not be Everything.  But it is Something.  I feel this will move.  I do feel it will.  I do.  I never have before.  Let us pray it is so, that it will move.

And then as for My Life, I have begun teaching and in the first week I enjoyed it, especially that the group looks like the city I live in (diverse racially and culturally), and these are working class kids or poorer than that and they are studying theatre, which is moving beyond belief as none of them have been given the easy ride ticket through life, that much is Crystal clear.

And then now today, the kind of blmph feeling arrives of: oh, you're just a teacher now.  Even though I did a lab, even though I have work published, even though, etc...the 'teacher' mark is a hard one to shake, as some sign of failure of not-quite-there-ness and as my husband has received a wonderful grant and is going off to be a Real Artist, I sit around worrying about being Just a Teacher...never mind I haven't had even the slightest ability to write a grant proposal in the last months due to grieving, never mind that...I'm not a Real Artist because I'm teaching two university modules.

Christ on a stick.

I mean really...

But OK, so like it's crazy I know that...but still, but still, but still...I do fear losing my way, not giving myself the time I need to create, getting so caught up in students' needs (which I do So Quickly) that I lose sight of my own work, etc. etc...and yet I the fact is I don't Need to do it this way and I can do both and I do need the money...

On the good news side, the lab we did this week was amazing and there's some new exciting work coming out of it that has to do with sacred and with celebrity, two big topics of ours that have now merged into something quite interesting...the acid test is always the second lab...was it a fluke or are we onto something, we'll see.

Oh and the woman I'm teaching with on one of the modules is kind of great, perhaps a new friend, definitely an ally and that seems like a gift.  One of those gifts that comes along synchronistically when you're doing the right thing (note to self: it is actually conceivable that you are doing the right thing and these little narratives you make up wherein you are a loser no matter What you do may in fact be like wrong...shock horror)...

I am also applying for a residency that would give me time to work on a huge writing project that I don't know if I could accomplish any other way than stuck out in the woods in a studio 2 miles from the Atlantic...so if you believe in this kind of thing, please pray for me.  I could really use the break, for so many reasons, not only the writing project but also the affirmation of my work, of my writing of all the time I have spent for decades creating stuff...it'd be nice.

And before I sound too churlish a note of gratitude For the teaching work which will pay the bills for a few months and in this economy that is saying something, and for the university where I am teaching that actually pays a living wage and does not exploit their VLs...this, for those of you who don't do this kind of work, is rare.

And since I'm asking for prayers, let's add one of my students, who is 37 a 'mature student' who was born and bred in one of the most deprived areas in this city and still lives there with her 15 1/2 year old son.  She told me and I know she is right "It's a long way to fly [to get out of there]."  Helicopters over head at night a son who is afraid to be outside and she wants to be a teacher and get her son and herself out of there.  A prayer for her too.  She said to me as we were traveling in to the university, "You are living my bliss.  It makes me so happy to see that and gives me hope."  Damn, what can I say to that?  Here's to this student, that she can find what she's looking for and make that flight.

And here's to me realizing that I alone can't save her, because every fibre of my being wants to rescue her from everything and of course I can't and of course I want to and of course it's not up to me but of course I think it is...

Welcome to why for me teaching is so damn hard...

Except of course when I'm just teaching and we're grooving and it's all going beautifully and then it's a gift and fun and something else, something so special.  Seeing students in different parts of a room remembering something from their childhoods for an exercise, looking so gorgeous all engaged and so still.  Watching them have fun with an exercise I've invented and getting it...pennies dropping, aha moments, etc.  That's incredible shit.

Maybe this is the deal: it's about creating those moments...whether in my work, in my teaching, writing, life, in meetings, whatever...allowing myself and others to have the 'aha' moments, the prison breaks, the sudden extraordinary awareness...or as a hero of mine Joseph Chaikin once wrote (and I still have on my bulletin board all these years later): "To express the extreme joy of being alive in any given moment is practically impossible - and really worth trying."

Amen.

refrigerators, landlords and the Whole Thing

Hi everyone,
just for anyone who's been following and enjoying the Saga of the Refrigerator...yes, Virginia, we do now have a refrigerator but Not without drama-rama of landlord saying one place couldn't deliver and then another could and then freaking out (him that is, not me!) when I offered to help and then freaking out again when it got delivered as they forgot to call him so by the time he came over it was in place and he got angry at me for the fact it was in place as he had to take it back down to change the door...because of course I should know that right???  I kept telling him he wasn't angry at me but at the delivery people and his response to that was to say loudly that of course it wasn't my problem so please stop talking to him (for the record, I wasn't talking to him as I was in another room trying to get a module guide prepared for innocent undergrads) and then returning to say: you know what really upsets me is that the gas was left on when you were gone!  (This he had told me already and involved the time I was away and so Bill had left it on, but Bill was not there, so it was my fault, even though it wasn't)....
So Anyway, with my history especially, this was crazy making - I did raise my voice, louder than I ever do except when completely furious and said "You have to stop blaming me for things that are not my fault.  I will not accept this."  And this led him to continue to talk to himself as if I was talking to him, etc...
Anyway, I just finally ignored him, continued my work and he changed the door, etc...when he Finally left, I had a non-working refrigerator (which needed to 'settle' for 24 hours even tho the delivery people said 4 hours, my landlord would have Freaked Out if I turned it on before 24 hours, so I just thought, dear God, I can't stand it anymore, I'll wait 24 hours in case he decides to come in later and Check)...
So now today, it is working and it is tiny, which is a bummer except for the one good bit is I can now reach the freezer without a step-ladder, to get whatever teeny tiny thing we might put in there...etc.

Other than that...I suddenly was asked to teach two university courses and am now scrambling to get everything ready for that and my orientation tomorrow, and I feel not surprisingly like it's my first day at school...since it, well, is...this is a place I haven't taught before so it's exciting for that reason plus the fact I have designed one module and one I am teaching has been designed and I will have to read so much for that one I'll basically get a free class except I'm teaching it.

Grounding back in meetings, too, and saw a great friend yesterday and was able to make her dinner, which always feels good to do.  My husband is away and will be back tomorrow, so my jet lag has settled back in and I'm getting up later, etc.  I do this anyway when left to my own devices, but with teaching I need to get up earlier, so so so...

And now my mother just called and I had an OK conversation with her - but she went into the long Saga of the Stepson and the Ex-Wife and their two sons and I have a hard time listening because she talks about a dysfunctional active alcoholic family dynamic like it's something that is 'just so sad' while actually being judgmental and when of course she was the 'crazy woman' when I was growing up and has no self-awareness of that at all when talking about 'them' and 'that sad situation' which in the end is somewhat crazy-making for me.

What is it I wonder - you start getting better, healthier, lighter and then the stink bugs of the universe start coming after you...hmmmmm....

So this is clearly the Venting Blog tonight folks...sorry if it's tedious.  But then again I have to keep remembering this is for my healing in the end and only if it is that can it possibly be of use to anyone else...speaking of which a person in my meeting was speaking about absolutely horrendous abuse from her childhood and I remember when she first came around the meetings and she was Angry and luckily for her she Knew it and she would rant and rave and I thought...hmmm...this chick has a chance, she's being honest...and now, a few years later, she's on her way to some sanity and serenity and she's still amazingly dynamic and gorgeous and great but she's not so tortured and damn if that isn't a miracle, especially with her background which involved systematic abuse.  It is so inspiring this AA thing, I just can't even explain how many miracles I get to witness on like an almost daily basis.  Blessed, blessed, blessed, I am...yes for all the psychic stink bugs - I am one of the lucky ones, and I know it.  And that's a blessing too.

So now what I should do with all this gratitude in this moment is stop blogging and start reading the material I need to teach on Tuesday so I can be free to be 'oriented' tomorrow.  Oh, during a strike in public transport too!  Hooray!

Oh that reminds me, before I go do what I should, one more rant: the Conservative Government here is Hellbent on Destroying Everything...it's incredible.  I mean they may be changing some things that need to be changed, but as I am from the US where there are checks and balances, watching this freight train of Total Change coming my way (and it does look from my angle like the lights of the oncoming train and Not the light at the end of the tunnel...) wow, it's scary.  I know in the larger cosmic scheme of things, all is well and whatnot, but down here on the ground, yikes!

More will be revealed....and it might not be pretty....but then again, who knows?  Weird things happen all the time and perhaps the law of unintended consequences might bend into the light this time.  That would be amazing, but wasn't I just talking about miracles before?  Maybe the final the big one the miracle of miracles Will occur and people will Wake the Fuck Up to what is going on with global capitalism...but there I go again...dreaming...

be well, my friends and sweet dreams...

OK so this is home - wild + miracles!

So, I've discovered by coming home to where I live that while it doesn't always feel like home, it is home.  So when jet lagged and on the bus back from the train station and I see the regular fake homeless guy outside the run down-still-disputed-and-not-yet-renovated-boarded-up-cinema-that-may-become-a-Brazilian-church, I think OK yeah, I know this place.  (By the way, the fake homeless guy is fake because his skin is clear and washed, his clothes are clean and he just does not have the conviction or desperation of the real homeless, like the ones in the U.S., who have leathery skin, a haunted, hungry look and usually smell incredibly bad because they actually don't have a shower option.  Also my adopted country has an incredibly liberal housing policies and you have to basically be beyond caring to not have at least hostel accommodation and basic benefits.  Plus the two fake homeless guys in the area also have pink mobile phones and share a sad looking dog and hat.  Seriously.)

Home itself was a bit rockier, with a refrigerator gone (one will be here on Saturday - finally!) and stuff a bit askew as my husband has been traveling too.  Had a good cry the next morning after many hours of sleep and so landing, landing gradually here.  Home is where you can cry your eyes out maybe?

Also going to my AA meeting where I have been going for years and seeing people I haven't seen for 3 weeks who actually missed me, and knowing, just knowing I was in the right place.  Then seeing a friend with terminal cancer in the meeting and her sadness, holding her through some of it, her being scared of results of tests that day, then the joy at getting her text that part of the cancer cleared - actually just Went Away!  Which is amazing, amazing, amazing...we have all been praying for her, keeping in touch and supporting how we can.  She has stayed incredibly strong, been reaching out for help while supporting her son and husband through all this as they support her.  And she's only 2 years sober...it is truly inspiring and gives me so much hope.  And I get to know all this and be a part of all this because I've been going to the same meeting for Years and gotten to know a lot of people there.  This is a miracle too.

Then the scary bit today: back to the therapist - yikes!  The Really Good Therapist who just doesn't let me get away with Anything...scary, scary...and amazing.  And realizing how deep my abandonment issues go and how much work there still is to do and hoping I have both the time and money to keep up the work because I can finally see light at the end of the proverbial tunnel on this stuff but know there's still some mining operations left to do and some tricky maneuvers...so, we'll see but today I'm thinking, I will commit to 6 more months and see this thing through.  So sick of stopping just short of the mark and thinking, oh, it's OK, I can get the rest of this On My Own...etc.

Yesterday got on the wrong bus home being more jet lagged than I thought but no harm done, just a little more walking.

Start teaching some classes next week and need to prepare for that, also do some rewrites after letting the reading settle and keep track of dates for this and that...but want to keep my creative work at the forefront, it's been getting swamped in the endless swamp of 'admin' lately and this needs to shift.  I'm weirdly looking forward to the teaching as I want to make it fun and have decided I will learn stuff too.  Don't want it to be paint by numbers but a creative adventure of its own.  I am told the students are engaged and engaging, so this is great news.  That always makes it a pleasure.

So here's to creativity and service, wild rides and finding home...happy October!