It's December 30, and the snow is lightly falling on a grey day, and as is always the case, watching it relaxes me and puts me in a thoughtful frame of mind.
2012 was one of my best years for adventures and love and friends and for taking creative risks.
It seems I was in some sort of recovery mode for most of 2013.
Recovery is an important step in healing and getting stronger. It seems strange to think that I would need a year of recovery after having an excellent year of the aforementioned travel and creative adventures, but I guess it's like resting after running a marathon. You put your body through tremendous stress in the process of achieving and excelling, and you need to nurture yourself before you can run your next marathon
Part of that recovery included taking a year off writing so that I could rest, recharge, enjoy some freedom, and reconsider if writing and producing plays was something I wanted to pursue. Somewhere along the line in 2012, doubt crept in about my abilities as a playwright, and in 2013 cynicism about the local market and local acting community took root in my heart. I think was trying to figure out where I belonged and if I fit in. There were a few instances when I felt like I sometimes did as a high school-er, feeling insecure and sometimes wishing for inclusion with a group of people with whom I actually had no meaningful connection.
I think the whole point of the cynicism and time space from creating theater was to learn that I do not need to try to fit in or belong. I learned this by noting how many other adults in this community are so desperate to fit in--not just fit in but to be the most popular, to name drop, to climb the social ladders, and watching other adults scramble for popularity made me laugh. I saw in them what can only be described as desperation, and I know that's not what I want for myself.
I've come to the conclusion that I need to write for different reasons now; namely, that I have something to say. I don't need to scramble. I don't need to compete. I don't need my name on posters. I simply need to share anything worth saying, and that is the hard part. How will I know if what I have to say matters at all?
I'm giving it another shot in 2014. I've got at least one more thing to say. I've got at least one more marathon in me.
2013 was also a long recovery phase from an overextended social calendar, and the year was marked not by interactions with extended groups of friends, but of a voyage of self discovery, which necessary included running solo most of the time. Several years of constant socializing, engagements, and party hosting took its toll on me. I often wonder if the constant socializing of 2006-2012 were my attempt to overcompensate for all the years I was married and sitting home alone on weekends and holidays, wondering if something was wrong with me because I didn't have friendships like the ones I saw in movies, on TV, and read about in books. Again, here is a glimpse of my most insecure self--it seems to come down to popularity--or does it? Is it really about connection?
If so, then it makes sense that some of those friendships did not last. I remember in the early days so desperately trying to force those connections and ultimately losing part of myself along the way. I spent part of 2013 in recovery mode from the loss of friendships, and at least one second too long dwelling on people who did not care to see our relationship through some ups and downs. I am positive that at the end of 2012, I swore I would get over those hurts, but I did not recover completely, and that is because I kept peeking under the band aid and picking at the scabs. In 2014, I will really need to not just let go of those memories, but to do so with so gratitude and sweetness, however small the dosage.
When one door closes in your heart, another opens. I determined to spend the year getting to the essence, my essence, my life's essence in 2013, and I made tremendous progress. Family. Need I say more? It's the greatest source of connection I have and the most meaningful. It is at once the most difficult and easiest relationships, too. It's difficult because we're so different and have such different views of the world. It's easy because they understand the world that created who I am more than anyone else. Family is the first and last line of defense. Sometime in 2013 it really hit me just how important my nieces and nephews are to me, and I'm so grateful that it hit me. If I hadn't lost some other relationships, I seriously wonder if I would have fully explored the other relationships that were already awaiting me with open arms.
I've had other doors shut, open, and slam in my face this year, namely my career. I didn't see any of that coming, but I know that in time I will see that those slamming door led me to knock on others that would open up new worlds to me.
One of the worlds that opened to me was claiming stake, literally, and right where I was. I talk of Journey in Place, but this year I also learned how to Live in Place. When I was offered a new career in June, it suddenly occurred to me how tentatively I had been living my life and how unbeknownst to me it caused me constant low-grade anxiety. I approached my life here as temporary, not because I necessarily wanted to move somewhere else, but because I didn't really feel I had a place here that couldn't be taken away at a moment's notice. Although the job that offered me this opportunity to literally and metaphorically set down roots did not work out, the result was the same: I changed the way I see my life here, and I claimed this space.
My space, my Place, became very important to me in 2013, and I treat it now as constant work in progress. I absolutely love my house and what I've done with it--from hosting concerts to opening the artists hostel b&b to my new home gym to my home office to hosting dinner parties to transforming my back yard into a shabby chic urban prairie. Feeling home in my home is a very important step for me in my journey, and more than anywhere else, home is where I love to be. I love what I've created here and what I overcame to call it my own. I really hope, wish, pray, that 2014 will bring with it a new job that will let me continue to discover my home.
A few weeks before Christmas, Primo got really sick. I thought he had a series of strokes. He kept running into things, falling down, and vomiting. He had no appetite and became skin and bones in a matter of days. I spent two days wailing in pain at the thought of losing him. I felt a deep pain I haven't felt in many years, and was surprised that I could still feel such intense pain. I felt like I would never be happy again without Primo and that nothing mattered to me. I took him to the vet expecting the worst but instead found out that he had a common ailment that is rarely fatal and easily remedied. He had Idiopathic Vestibular Syndrome aka Old Dog Syndrome. It's basically severe vertigo. Their eyes constantly roll around because they are dizzy and are trying to get their bearings, and that causes nausea, which causes them to vomit, which causes them not to eat. Their head tilts constantly to the right or left, they walk in circles, and sometimes can't walk at all. Dr. Dave gave him a shot for the vomiting and prescribed the human drug Meclizine, which is used to treat vertigo. It took a couple of weeks, but he's back to normal weight and he's walking in straight lines and gets dizzy only after sleeping for hours. On Christmas Day, I had the joy of seeing him run around the clean white snow, and I felt so happy.
As for adventures, we had one major adventure and a few smaller ones: an impromptu camping trip to Clifty Falls, three weeks hiking, trekking, and cruising Washington, Alaska, and Canada; a week in Michigan over Independence Day; a staycation in Indy before I started my new job; and several day trips to state parks after I got laid off a second time.
It' hard to describe this exactly, but one of my favorite things in life are the unexpected moments or days or evenings of simple joy. I had one that summer night when I drank Mateus next to a stream in a wooded area of neighborhood while reciting Shakespeare, and I had another on Christmas night. Primo and I took a walk just before midnight, and the snow started to fall, straight down and heavy. The air was pure and invigorating and everything was silent and perfect. I didn't feel cold, even though we were getting covered in snow. I knew that I was having a moment, and it was the best Christmas gift I could receive.
As we do every New Year's Eve, my partner and I will be recounting our Top Three--the three best things of the year. I'll start with all the good things then attempt to narrow it down to only three.
Leaving the Port in Vancouver
Reconnecting with old friend, Erwin Dela Pena
Final Friday at IMA
Two plays at IRT--"Jackie & Me" and "The Whipping Man"
Being cast in "Extremities"
Being cast in "Something Wicked This Way Comes"
Sled dogs in Alaska
Olympic National Park
Camping Clifty Falls
Randy and Haylee's wedding
Going to the symphony and Eagle's Nest
My mom's birthday
Tibb's Drive-In
Fourth of July vacation in Michigan with Larry
Staycation in Indy
Shades State Park
Thanksgiving slumber party
Taking Grace to get her ears pierced
Working in my yard
Dottie and David's wedding
Getting two book deals with Cavendish Square, an imprint of Encyclopedia Britannica
(Yesterday at Larry's playing air hockey and going hiking in the snow at Ft. Ben was pretty fun, too!)
Alaska/Washington
Staycation
How I felt when I got the new job (even though it didn't work out, I'll never forget how I excited I was, so I've decided it was one of the best things of 2013)
Primo
I broke the rules. I added a fourth.
No comments:
Post a Comment