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Risk Aversion*

Aside ~ ~ Beyond the Skinny Branches ~ 2 Comments

I read my writing aloud in public for the first time two weeks ago.

I began this blog a year and a half ago as a way for me to begin to break the silence and shame I felt inside.

You see, I grew up in an environment that encouraged me to suppress my feelings and my true thoughts. In essence, I learned to hide my truth.

Because of things that had happened to me when I was young, I was afraid that to speak my truth would bring pain to others in my family. I needed their love, so I learned very early on to present a version of me that would be pleasing for them and others. It was literally a matter of survival, keeping my truth hidden.

Additionally, problems in our family were not acknowledged verbally for the most part. We pretended to each other they did not exist. If it was something that absolutely could not be hidden, there was a real strong pressure to keep the family problems secret, to keep them inside the home. I was not verbally warned not to seek help. But I knew it was considered dangerous.

So I learned to keep my true self buried deep inside, hidden far away from my family, and from the outside world.

I got so good at it, I lost touch with my own true self. I had hidden it so well, it became hidden from even myself.

I am a performer, so I need to be able to use my truth to reveal the truths of the characters I play. I learned to go deep within, but I found that as much as I loved bringing what I could to my work, there were internal tensions that made it very challenging. And so I began to embark on unraveling those tensions, to see what was underneath, to find more freedom and to expand my capacity to reveal through my work.

It has been an amazing process. I did not set out to, but I have ended up finding my self in the process. I’ve been making a deep excavation within, bringing out the remains into the light.

It has been excruciating at times, terrifying, wondrous, exquisite, mind-blowing, beautiful, sad beyond belief. But most of all, it has been a becoming whole.

In the process of finding me, I discovered that I wanted to be able to own and share my truth without fear or shame. So I started to practice doing so.

First in small, safe ways. To trusted people. Then, I began increasing the risk level, expanding my level of comfort by extending myself into the world in ever-widening circles.

This blog has been a hugely gratifying experience. It has been so important for me share my true internal experience, my real creativity, here. There have been times I have felt so fearful after hitting the publish button…it has felt so risky…what if someone in my family reads it? What will they think of me? If people know this or that, will they see me differently? Will they judge me, label me, only see me this way or that?

I realized that I was so afraid of only being seen for what has happened to me or what I have done, the mistakes I have made, or what I have NOT done or accomplished. I didn’t have a sense of being valuable just as I am, not what I do, did, will do, haven’t done.

The blog and posting has been stretching me in so many great ways. It has also helped me learn to let go of needing to be seen a certain way in order to feel valuable, safe or lovable.

What I did not expect was how amazing it would be to have people read and then reach out to share back. That has been and continues to be such a gift. (So thank you.)

And then, I had the opportunity to submit a piece I adapted from a blog post for an evening of work written by women on what it means to identify as a woman.

When I began writing this blog, I had never, ever intended to read my work anywhere, but there I was, sending it in, in hopes of being chosen, so I could share my work live, in person. (What?!)

When it was selected, I was ecstatic. And terrified.

Every childhood-conditioned muscle in my body was braced for trouble. Every old voice that wanted to keep me silent was working on my psyche: Who was I to think I had something of value to share? What if I upset people? What if someone was unhappy with what I had to say?

In the week before the event, I was questioning my sanity in having chosen to do it.(What was I thinking?! Why was I putting myself through this?!)

The fear and the voices continued right up until showtime and as the first readers read their work.

And then, my name was called. My turn. I gathered together my courage and began the long walk down the aisle, my heart pounding in my chest.

And then three steps from center stage, I suddenly felt something click inside. When I stepped into the light, I just knew in my bones that I was in the right place at the right time. I felt a sense of home inside. I felt warm. I felt safe.

What an amazing experience! It was an experiment, but it turns out I love sharing my words live, and also experiencing the words of the others involved. Who knew?

I am so grateful to whatever healing force inside me has been leading me on this journey to be free. It is a beautiful thing to break free of the shackles of one’s own past and to be able to freely express one’s own self.

*(Written 10/17/17, but I used a draft from Oct. 1 and didn’t realize I needed to change the date before publishing it! So here it remains, looking like I wrote it Oct. 1. But I promise I wrote it 10/17/17.)

Reposted in Response to The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: risky

A Question of Wit

Aside ~ ~ Beyond the Skinny Branches ~ 4 Comments

There are a lot of funny people in the entertainment and literary world today. A lot.

See The Rolling Stone’s list of “The 50 Funniest People Now.”

You’ve got your Louis CK (love him,) Chris Rock, the genius Kate McKinnon, Julia Louis-Dreyfus (sending you healing prayers, Julia: I am in awe of you,) Jordan Peele and Keegan Michael-Key at the top of the list. Each brilliantly funny.

I found the list fascinating, and exciting. (Mainly because a friend of mine is on it, and deservedly so. So excited for them!!)

The list got me thinking about words like “wit,” “comedy,” “humor,” “satire,” and”funny.” And the different genres through which one can be “funny” or “comedic” or “witty.” Television, movies, books, magazines, live performance, cartoons, comics and on-line accounts and posts — I am sure I am missing more — oh yeah, greeting cards! (what am I missing?)

It got me thinking: is everyone who is funny witty?

I guess it depends on how you define “wit.”

One such definition, from LiteraryTerms.net, is:

“Wit is a biting or insightful kind of humor. It includes sharp comebacks, clever banter, and dry, one-line jokes. It is often cynical or insulting, which is what provides it with its characteristic sharpness.

One key hallmark of wit is that it often takes a second to figure out. A witty remark is one that goes over people’s heads at first, but that they then get (and laugh at) after a few moments. A witty remark is a kind of mental time-bomb that only goes off once it’s been processed a bit. Thus, wittiness is a subjective quality – for some people, a line will be immediately understood and therefore not very witty (even though it might still be funny or clever). But other people might hear the same line and need to process it for a moment before they get it. To them, the line would be witty.

The following story is probably the single most frequently cited example of wit: Winston Churchill was once at a party, apparently quite drunk, when he had an encounter with a high-class socialite from another political party. The woman turned her nose up at Churchill and said with disdain, “You, sir, are drunk.” Churchill, not missing a beat, responded in a dry tone of voice, “You, madam, are ugly, and in the morning I shall be sober.”

I prefer this from LiteraryDevices.net, which is more of the literary use definition, but I think it gets to the nut of what makes wit wit and not comedy.

“Wit has originated from an old English term wit, which means “to know.” It is a literary device used to make the readers laugh. Over the years, its meanings have kept changing. Today, it is associated with laughter and comedy. It is, in fact, a clever expression of thought; whether harmless or aggressive, with or without any disparaging intent toward something or someone.

Wit has paradoxical and mocking quality, and evokes laughter through apt phrasing. It is a cleverly woven expression and idea that evokes pleasure and amusement when used appropriately. Wit has historically been a specific sign of a cultivated intellect and mind. It was often found in poetry, but stage plays were also full of wit, specifically during the Restoration Period. In modern times, wit is a hallmark of political and social writings.”

I don’t think all funny people are witty.

I also think people used to be wittier. Maybe wit was valued differently (as was reading) than it may be today.

Just posing the questions.

I can say that when I think of wit, I think of the writer Dorothy Parker.

Call me old-fashioned, but I think she was the master of wit. Especially, but not limited to, within her short stories such as “You Were Perfectly Fine,” “The Lovely Leave,” “The Telephone Call,” and my hands- down favorite: “The Garter.”

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Who do you think is truly witty these days?

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: witty

A Tea Time Rebellion

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“Before you launch into another tirade about how cucumber sandwiches are only to be served sans crust, I ask that you please set your concerns aside just this once in order to provide an empathetic ear to my complaints,” Myrna plaintively, yet forcefully, interjected.

Though her crimson-painted lips were set in a rather firm horizon line uncharacteristic for her features, her flushed cheeks belied her trepidation at having taken such a strong public stance, and she immediately tittered a rather anemic laugh and waved her hand in a vague attempt to dissipate any remaining resonance of what she had just said.

She turned her full attention to the deviled egg on her plate, nodding now and then to maintain the illusion of her part in the conversation at hand.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: launch

Chances Are

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Coincidence? I think not. Happenstance? No.

It was divine guidance. Fate. Destiny. Meant to be.

I would never have been in Central Park otherwise that day. Hadn’t been there for years.

Avoided it, actually, as I did any person, place or thing that connected me to you, or the us that we had been.

But for some reason (it felt so random at the time,) I decided to get on the train and head uptown.

It was a sunny Labor Day. New York City felt generous without most of her locals taking up space.

I had no plans. I was trying to stay active so as not to slip into loneliness.

I came out of the subway at Columbus Circle. No plan. No route in mind. I wandered, following my nose, enjoying just being in the world.

I suddenly realized I was in “our” spot, on the Great Lawn. A fluttery fear made its presence known in my belly.

Without conscious intention, my eyes scanned the horizon, and just as I realized what I was doing, I saw you lying there.

Even face down, I’d know your body anywhere. Long, lanky, tanned. Shirt off, ripped, worn jeans low on your hips.

My heart somersaulted. A rush of heartache and bruised love and attraction rushed through my body.

In a moment of agonizing indecision, I considered turning away, walking past, walking on.

But my feet and heart had other ideas, and they took me to where I was standing over you.

Did you feel my presence, or was it just that I was blocking the sun?

You turned your head and said hello.

Just like that.

It had been three years of no contact. Three years since I came home to an apartment emptied of your things. A total shock.

Three years since I learned you’d been seeing other people for at least the last year of our relationship.

Three years of putting the pieces of my heart and my life back together, mending the gaping holes you left.

And today, of all days, “randomly,” our paths cross.

I say I’m well, and I mean it. I ask how you are, and then I wish you well, and I mean that too.

The truth is, I’ve never been better. The truth is, you don’t look so well.

I see the pack of cigarettes and the empty tallboys in the grass. I see a guy who is nursing last night’s drunk with midday hair of the dog.

You look like you’re in exactly the same place you were before the shit hit the fan. The place where we both drank too much. The lost place. The place where our love did not survive.

I see this, and I wish you well, from my heart, and I walk away.

I smile to myself, a bit astonished at my strength. The capacity of my heart to forgive. My resilience. My spirit. At the Universe knowing the perfect moment, the exact moment I am ready for it, providing me with this chance to see that I have healed. This chance to let it all go.

I move forward, into the sunlight, into the lush green of the park, into the present beauty of my life.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: coincidence

Stone Portal

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I cannot focus, the dark is too thick

Just hear loud, indecipherable sounds

I’m lost and can’t find my way

Overbearing, foreign smells fill my nostrils

Earth, feces, sweat and fear

My own heartbeat and jagged breath

I feel the air in front of my body

Searching for a soft place to hide

I stumble, hurled through darkness

Falling a mile, aging a year, before I land

Sharp pain, hard crags of cool stone, my head explodes

I want to just lay down

Something warm oozes from my mouth

A bed of stony rock seems a fitting cradle

To pass me through to the other side

Total Eclipse

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I reach for you

Met with cold, darkness

I spin around again, on my own

You turn and reach out then

But I don’t see you

Time goes slowly

We revolve around each other

Like two planets

On opposite sides of a galaxy

Far, far away

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: planet

Rebirth

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Hello, my love, you’ve no longer any need to hide

I’m here now, and I’ll remain, always by your side

I can safely say you’ll never again be on your own

You won’t be left to fend, out in the world, all alone

You’ll be attended to, appreciated, pampered, protected,

I am yours, you are mine, we’re forever interconnected

The past will be replaced with a now that shines bright

I’ll hold you close, say your name, through the dark of each night

 

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: pamper

Shaken, Not Stirred

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“I find the whole idea of relevance irrelevant,” she said with a firm toss of her jet black bob before draining the contents of her martini.

And with that, all further conversation on the matter was ended.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: irrelevant

A Child’s Wish

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Like the last leaf in winter,

Sometimes I hang on too long.

If it is something good –

A relationship, a place, an experience,

A lipstick color, really great ice cream –

I want it in my life forever.

Afraid to leave behind the good I know,

To allow the change to change me,

I just don’t want to let go.

I don’t think I’m greedy,

I think I just love too tightly.

(When you’ve had things ripped away from you,

Maybe you tend to hold fast and hard.)

I’m working on a lighter grip,

A turning over, a letting go.

“If you love someone, set them free.”

I know you have to make space

For something new to come through.

Yet, still, I love who and what I love.

And in my heart of hearts,

I wish it could last forever.

So like a child, I let go begrudgingly.

I blink back the tears, await what comes next.

 

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: leaf

Pay It Forward

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Commit yourself to a mighty purpose.

– H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I was saved, in large part, by reading and acting.

Growing up, my friends, my hope, my pleasure, my education all came from what I watched and read. As this was before the internet, this meant books, magazines, television shows and movies.

I had friends, sure. And a family. But I didn’t trust most people, with good reason due to early trauma. So I turned to other resources for help. To what was available to me as a child: books and television.

Through them, I could enter into other worlds and become a part of them. This saved me from the intense loneliness I felt, the extreme “otherness.”

I have no doubt that were it not for books and movies, I would have descended into a kind of madness that might not have turned out so well.

Fortunately, I had a library and a television at my disposal. They brought me works that gave me hope that another life could be made for myself. They gave me company. They gave me connection.

Today, as I navigate my life as a performer and as a writer, I can think of no higher purpose for myself than to create work that can do the same for someone else.

I am on a never-ending quest to examine and understand both the light and the dark sides of human behavior. I’m drawn to works that explore and celebrate the human spirit. Stories of how people rise above the problems of life and the human condition to make change and follow their hearts. I have a soft spot for the seemingly ordinary moments and people in life: the underdog; the unsung heroes; the quiet, small moments that can sometimes hold a lifetime.

It’s my mission to collaborate deeply and bravely as an actor and singer with all of the people who make up a production, so that together we can create stories to inspire, educate, elicit, and evoke. To wake people up so that they may live life more fully and authentically and to embrace their lives.

I also volunteer as a reader with SAG-AFTRA Foundation’s BookPALS program. I read storybooks to kindergartners in hopes of sparking a lifelong relationship between children, reading and books that I hope will help them navigate the murkier waters of growing up, of life.

That is my mighty purpose. What is yours?

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: mighty