"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
- Mary Oliver.
Welp, my little blades... I am absolutely discovering this for myself! It's funny because I stopped blogging because I felt like I'd dried up -- my inspiration had deserted me -- or perhaps I had deserted it. Either way, I stopped.
And then, I was at my acting workshop and my dear friend Dasha asked me what happened to my blog. She said, "You have only like two months to go, come on." And then, when I said that I'd been Les Mis and thought it was better if I walked away for awhile, she responded brilliantly. She said, "But that's when we most want to read your column. To be inspired."
And then, I thought to myself, I need to write again. I need to share where I have been and where I am going. I need to give -- of myself and back to you all, my little blades, who stuck with me, by my side, even when I aborted mission for a few months.
Sometimes in life, and I am a big proponent of this, it is enlivening to walk away from something. Gain a fresh perspective. See things more clearly. Meet someone new. Discover a new song. Change our minds. Or maybe -- maybe even we need to listen to old songs, meet up with an old friends, see things the way we used to see them and yet differently at the exact same time.
The thing is, we are always growing. Even when we think -- ugh. This is so not where I am supposed to be. Maybe it is. Maybe we are all part of this divine make up of the universe and we are spinning, turning just right. Just right if -- and this is a great big if -- if we have what I have discovered to be the courage that it takes to be honest. With ourselves. About ourselves. If we embrace who we are.
And at The Women's Conference in Long Beach a few weeks ago, I learned -- or rather re-learned about that. I felt anew. As the hours stretched on and the more people I listened to, the more the voices all collectively became this harmonious pitch, like the sound of a hummingbird's wings as it clings nearby a bird of paradise.
I could hear them. The wings. My wings. And I could feel like this warm feeling falling over me and I remembered me. The me who attended Barnard. The me who went to Peddie. The me who dreampt of great big things as I swinged (swung?) on the swingset in my backyard. The me who hid on the side of my house, thinking of being an actress, shewing my gum and the peanuts I'd also incomprehensibly popped into my mouth.
I'd stare into the bathroom mirror, the one downstairs, and do a commercial, act it out, sell a product, but I'd always make one up that was kind of dramatic. And boy, did the tears flow easily.
I'd sing Somewhere Over The Rainbow on the swing in the backyard. And when my momtold me that the lion had died in "real life" -I cried then too. I cried for the lion. And for his courage. And for the actor -- because why did he have to die?
I remember these things.
I remembered me.
At the conference, as I listened to the women -- and the few great men who also spoke -- I remembered me. And what makes me great. Made me great. Will make me even greater.
The truth. Who I am. The scrappy kid from Jersey. The big brown-eyed dreamer with the out-sized dreams. The girl who made her childhood best friend, Gretchen, whom I'd somehow nicknamed Pooch, (she called me Bear) rehearse with me for our "movie play" about two women who were secretaries who rose up and defeated their boss. Our soundtrack was Private Eeyes. And I'd make us both rehearse assiduously.
We also danced for the local retirement home -- in Danskin leotards a la Solid Gold. I'm sure our strange and energized performance either brought them closer to death or life, depending on their current physical state.
That's me, my little blades. That's me.
Or at least, this was the beginning of me.
And now... I have picked up the stick again and started to Bridge to Terabithia my way through life all over again.
Honesty about my money. Honesty about my school. My culture. My desire for love. My gratitude for all of the love swarming my life. My need to be close to my father. My missing of my sister and great need to see her again.
I am buying a new car. Selling my old one. My dear friend is living with me. Jes! I have a roommate again -- it's been years and years. And I LOVE it.
I am growing. We are growing. But the thing is, I am taking me -- along the journey.
This is my one wild and precious life. And I am beginning to know -- just what I plan to do... :):):)