Putting in for resupply...

Time to dock the ship. She is in need of repair and refit, and supplies need to be replenished.

There is a wonderful book called The Artist's Way. It is a workbook to help you unblock yourself creatively, and it has been very helpful to me on so many levels. One of the concepts the author describes is the replenishment of the soul--she calls it "Stocking the pond"--in order to have more food and creative energy.

She also presented an exercise in which you draw a spoked wheel, with yourself at the middle. Each spoke represents fun, spirit, etc. and you are supposed to rank your activity on each. Then you connect the dots. The idea is that, when you are done, the thing should look like an even web, and if it does not, you know better what to focus on. Currently mine is quite a mess.

I am going to a retreat facility that also doubles as a B&B. And taking my workbook. And my hopes and dreams and all the chaos of my life. And hopefully leaving the latter there when I return on Monday.

Have a great weekend, readers.

Rock and roll...

...is loud. And that's part of why I like it. Life is loud right now. And that's part of why I like it, too. In the last seven days, some pretty incredible stuff has happened:

One of my best friends in the whole wide world has returned to California. After a series of some-good-but-mostly-suck-ish adventures in the midwest, Jon is back in town. He drove all the way from Missouri (which I envy) and got a flat tire one and a half hours away (which I do not envy). But he is here, he is staying with me until he gets work and a place of his own, and it is grand to catch up. We have already spent countless times reliving the past and laughing our butts off about the present. Good times.

My kids and I have spent some wonderful time together. We have gone to the Russian River to splash around, and take the dog swimming. We have played board games and watched movies and had popcorn and stayed up late. Thing One came to work with me on Tuesday, and I get to see him again tonight. He is getting so mature, and growing so much--he nearly fills out his bed now, and I can still (barely) remember carrying him like a football. Thing Two is growing, too, although his heart was broken Tuesday when his pet rat passed away. (She had a giant tumor and a couple other smaller ones growing in her, so it was for the best.) He is handling it like a trooper, trying to remember the good times, but it is hard. Other than that, he is also growing like crazy and becoming his own person.

Last weekend a show I am directing opened in Santa Rosa. "Wretch Like Me" is a one-man autobiographical show about growing up into and out of Fundamental Evangelical Christianity, something close to my heart and in my own past. It is a very potent story about religion, but even more so about maturing, finding one's own voice, and how the things that often drive us into difficult situations are also the very things that give us the tools to get back out.

This week, I ran auditions for my own creation, a show called "Affairs of Face" (If you are interested, check my theater company's page for more info.) The turnout was pretty small, but the cast is small, and I am going to put some feelers out. There is still hope. And, both of these projects ("Wretch" and "Affairs") will be part of the very first Sonoma County Arts Fringe Festival this autumn. So I am VERY excited about THAT.

In all of this, I have frequently lost sleep due to fretting about things, panicking about things, and drinking waaaaaaaay too much caffeine. I have not always been my cheery self. However, throughout these adventures, my girlfriend Denise has been stalwartly at my side--supporting me, comforting me, encouraging me, giving me strength and love every step of the way. She has helped out with the show, being "on book" and taking notes for us during the rehearsal process. She has taken care of me when I needed it. And even with the busy-ness of it all, we have spent some wonderful times together.

In reflecting about everything that is going on, I really cannot complain. I am doing what I love, with the people I love, and I cannot really ask for much more than that.

Except maybe win the lottery.

Heard this on the radio this morning...

...now I have to get the CD. The song is "Laughing With" by Regina Spektor:

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor

No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet

No one laughs at God
When their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken

No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke,
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for

No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very
poor

No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God

Clip of the week...

Twenty years ago? It seems like only yesterday:



A not-too-badly-done video here was made in 2007 as a memorial. It includes this text:

Though all records differ in their statistics, an estimated 5,000 people died. Thousands more were injured. The topic is still a political taboo in mainland China. Any public discussion of it is regarded as inappropriate. As a result of the strong Chinese government censorship, the news media is forbidden to report anything related to the subject unless it takes the Communist Party of China's view. This part of history has disappeared in most Chinese media.

There is a special on PBS called "The Tank Man" that is all about the continuing fallout of this event. If you click here (and I highly recommend you do), you can watch the entire thing online. It is essentially a program about how information is controlled in China, even to this day. It includes some footage of college students being shown photos of Tiananmen who, when asked what they think the photos represent, answered, 'I dunno...a parade?'

Hard to believe that, even now, a Google image search on the US page yields this:



While the Chinese Google image search produces this:



I wish I had a solution for Times Like These.

Time to Character Up...

By Rudyard Kipling:

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

By Anonymous:

IF - you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,
IF - you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
IF - you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
IF - you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,
IF - you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
IF - you can overlook it when people take things out on you,
IF - when, through no fault of your own, something goes wrong,
IF - you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
IF - you can face the world without lies and deceit,
IF - you can conquer tension without medical help,
IF - you can relax without liquor,
IF - you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

THEN, you are almost as good as your dog or your cat.

Good words.

Sound 'Assembly'...

Last weekend I went on a personal retreat. You will surely think I'm exaggerating when I say this, but this was the first time I've taken a day off in nearly 18 months. I usually have work, or rehearsal, or kids, or something planned, but instead I carved out a weekend where I could sit and think and clear my head. There is a lot spinning around up there, and (as a friend of mine once said) I wanted to get it dealt with before it knocked something off a shelf and broke it.

Here is (some of) the Merriam-Webster definition of retreat:

1 a (1): an act or process of withdrawing especially from what is difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable
2: a place of privacy or safety : refuge
3: a period of group withdrawal for prayer, meditation, study, or instruction under a director

Pretty accurate description, no? I had hoped to spend the weekend away somewhere, and had been cruising the internet and travel sites (Travelocity FTW!), but one of the things that has been weighing very heavily on me is my complete lack of finances. So, instead I ended up staying home the entire weekend and working on the house and the yard. I got some plants, and cleaned up all around. I didn't end up working on my goals, or my philosophy or strategy or personal whatever. But I did wind up feeling refreshed and at least a little more grounded.

"Retreat" is also a bugle call in the cavalry. Another bugle call is "Assemble". Here's the word from Merriam-Webster again:

1 : to bring together (as in a particular place or for a particular purpose)
2 : to fit together the parts of

Another good call. I feel ready to get ready now. I know that sounds ridiculous, but after a year and a half of running, it was good to catch my breath and look around at the terrain a bit.

Happy New Year...

Well, dear readers, another one for the books. As I approached year-end, I realized I had hardly even touched my little corner of the blogsphere in weeks (spheres have corners? wha?). I vowed, as many people vow to lose weight and stop drinking—“right after this last glass of New Year's Eve champagne”--to get back on the horse and write again. After all, I *need* to write, in a way that usually means if I *don't* write, I will end up eating or drinking too much. (See what I did there?)

And here we are, three days late.

I *do* have an excuse: I ran myself ragged, and fell very sick with a flu that is making its rounds here in Northern California. This one is a charmer, starting with a sore throat that just gets worse and worse. The nose starts dripping, the cough kicks in, then the fever and aches and everything. Thankfully, no vomitoriousness with this bug, but still. I spent three days on my back, which for me is saying something.

But, I am back, and will catch you up on the ragged-making events that preceded me breaking my Write-More-On-My-Blog resolution before I could even start it. Rather than post one enormous Tolstoy epic here, I will give it to you in installments. In the meantime, here is my belated New Year’s toast to you—it’s a traditional toast from Canisbay, a small village near John O’Groats in Scotland:

May the best yer've ever seen be the worst yer'll ever see,
May a moose ne'er leave yer girnal' wi' a tear drop in its e'e,
May yer lum keep blithely reekin' until the day yer dee,
And may yer a' be as happy as I'd like yer a' tae be.

(“May the best you've ever seen be the worst you'll ever see,
May a mouse never leave your grain store with a teardrop in its eye,
May your chimney keep happily smoking until the day you die,
And may you all be as happy as I'd like you all to be.”)

Happy New Year, Dearest Readers!

"You know that feeling you get, when you're leaning back in a chair, and you're just about to fall...

...but you don't? I feel that way all the time." (Steven Wright)

I know the last couple of posts have been rather heavy, and probably stirred things up for you, my dear readers, in your own bubbly pots. But I wanted to give a hearty thanks to each and every one of you for your comments and encouragement. In the last couple of days, I have received some wonderful words from Blender, Denise, and an incredible e-mail from my mom. (Yes, she reads this blog, so watch your language!) (Just kidding, she knows we're adults.) (Well, she knows you are an adult--she knows me better than that.)

Anyway, I have quite a bit more to say, but it can wait. It was more important to me to thank you for your blog comments, private messages and e-mail. This is a support net I didn't expect to find below me. You are all, each and every one of you, wonderful. Thank you.

Five things--not an easy post...

So, Cara tagged me in her blog and asked me to respond. If you are anything like I am (and I bet you are), this will be a very hard question to answer:

What are five things you’ve said or done in the past twelve months that you’re most proud of?

Interesting, since, I could easily pop off five things in the past twelve hours that I feel poorly about. Why is it that we are so good at self-criticism, but so poor at self-honor? Perhaps for me it is because I believe so firmly that self-aggrandization is a bad, bad thing. ("It's like that fella Bill Shakespeare once said: a man who blows his own horn usually ain't worth a toot.") That translates to me avoiding it like the plague, which ends up meaning I am (a) all about trying to let my deeds to the talkin', and (b) oblivious to things that are good about me. (In fact, just writing that last made me cringe.)

However, because I am also up for a good challenge, here goes:

1. I have survived.
If you read my last post, you know the last twelve months have been stressful. In the face of losing several friends and one family member, changing careers and seeing my dream work environment turn into a nightmare, ending a relationship of nearly eighteen years at the behest of the other half, losing my retirement account, moving twice, and losing my favorite vehicle of ten years, it has not been a smooth sail. Cara took credit for staying alive through a tough time; I will do the same. I believe that in the course of those human events, I have emerged a stronger, different, better person, and have a stronger faith, greater wisdom, and better understanding as a result.

2. My life balance is good.
I'm not feeling it right at this moment, mind you, because my rehearsal schedule is grueling (we open Friday). But in general, I have time with my kids, a job I can do that pays well and is flexible with the kids and the acting thing, and I have some fun times with friends. I am busy, as I always have been, but it is good busy now, for the most part.

3. My theater career has taken off.
Also in the past year, things performing-wise have gone off the chart. I worked all last summer on an amazing project--we did a version of Macbeth with only five actors. One played Macbeth, and the other four of us played very antagonistic witches, who shapeshifted from one character to another in an attempt to get the poor Scot into lots and lots of trouble. At the last minute (four weeks from open), I was asked to jump into the lead. It was very tough, but I felt so accomplished afterward. Over the holidays I co-produced a version of "A Christmas Carol" that was moderately successful. Then in the spring I did "The Wizard of Oz" at the Mountain Play, a 3,800 seat amphitheater on the top of Mount Tamalpais. It was my first experience working with a big, professional theater like that one. I did a number of spoken word pieces, including the incredibly thought-provoking "Guantanemo" in May. Now I am working on "The Music Man". It has been an incredible year.

4. I have let myself get close to someone.
This has not been easy. I have some serious self-esteem issues (had them before the divorce, now they are amplified). I have deep-seated questions about how good I am for someone else in a long-term relationship, and that has of course colored my opinions about how good I can be for someone else in even a casual relationship. But I am trying to release that crap and just enjoy myself and grow. The result is that I am growing closer to one particular young lady who is a blessing and has helped me to see things about myself that I never really did.

5. I have started molding a new faith for myself.
I spent nearly two decades in one particular faith, and events led me to re-evaluate my position on the whole faith issue. I have spent the last three years snooping around in other gods' laundry, and have found some interesting things. I don't have a label for what I believe, and it isn't easy to describe. The idea of karma weighs in heavily, and so does string theory. In a nutshell, however, I have experienced it practically in a bevy of blessings that are in direct relation to the outlandishly tough things I have experienced in life.

There you have it. In retrospect, it looks like a lot of global-type things, and not very specific, so perhaps I should do more work here. But it is nice to get a perspective on things. I can tend to get bogged down in little details, and lose gratitude when I don't keep the good in mind.

Got your own list? Make it. You'll feel better.

State of the Union...

As the title of this blog suggests, life is loud for me. I would like to have a cottage somewhere, sit and drink tea and write and all that, but that is not my lot in life, I find. Especially over the last two years (although 2005 was a VERY loud year as well).

I was chatting with a friend yesterday about the Holmes/Rahe stress test. These guys were at the forefront of the stress-leads-to-illness movement, way back in the 70's (well, Wiki says 1967, so I guess I was off by a little). Briefly, what these guys did was to put together a checklist of 'life events', both good and bad, that were stressors. Each life event on the list was given a point value. You check off the ones that you've experienced in the last 12 months, and then add up the points. Supposedly, a score of 300+ indicates 'at risk of illness'; 150 to 299 indicates 'risk of illness is moderate (reduced by 30%)', and 150 and below indicates 'only a slight risk of illness'.

Last fall, I took the test and (even though I knew of it long ago, and what it meant), I was surprised to find how high it was. After chatting with my friend yesterday, I decided to take it again to see how I am doing now. There are some schools of thought that say you should count more than once for multiple occurrences, but I only counted once.

My score? 768

Oof. Good thing I have those coping tools from all these years of dealing with manic depression, or I would probably be in the hospital by now. {:o)

Back in the saddle, again...

(cue Gene Autry:

I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend...

Thanks to a friendly nudge from Cara, I have returned from the land of not-ether to at least check in with you all. It has been a crazy week and a half. (Well, month, if you've been paying any attention at all.) Since my last cheesy post, I have had several adventures, not the least of which was a birthday celebration to add to the books.

Last Sunday was my (#currentyear-#birthyear)nd birthday. I had remarked some time ago to my current interest, Denise that my birthdays in the past always seemed to be a fizzle, or something I arranged myself, and she jumped into the breach. I was told several weeks ago to plan nothing for the weekend of August 3rd, and to be prepared for anything.

I was not.

Oh, I thought I was ready for anything, but she and some of my other friends are very, very devious. I was on my way to Denise's house (a granny unit behind another friend's house) when it struck me that she told me to come over "any time after 12:15". This was suspicious to me, since she usually isn't that time specific. But when I pulled up to the front house, there were no cars around. On top of that, the couple that lives in the front house were not in party mode--he was washing his truck, and she was in a robe sipping coffee on the porch.

When I walked in the back, though, there they were: people from all walks of my life--theater, family, friends--yelling "Surprise!". There was a HUGE pile of food, all good, and wine and beer--including a version of my favorite brew (don't know why brown ales are so rare, but they are not easy to find--still trying to figure out who played that card). There were balloons, many cards, three bottles of champagne just for me (they were gifts), gifts. The weather was PERFECT and we all had an amazing time.

But it didn't end there. After the party wrapped around 4:00pm, we dropped my dog off at the overnight place she likes and checked in at the Hotel La Rose in historic Railroad Square in Santa Rosa. Then we went to the Sonoma County Fair. Denise had never been to a horse race before, so we caught the last race of the day (we did not win, unfortunately). We saw all the stuff I missed about the place, took a ride on the Ferris Wheel, and left to get ready for dinner.

We got rather dressed up, and headed over to a stellar Italian place called Ca Bianca. Beautiful old Victorian building, converted to a restaurant. The service was amazing, the food was delicious, and we had the place pretty much to ourselves. (We got there right before closing, but never felt rushed to get out of their hair.) Denise had also put together a "spirit of birthdays" thing--a memory from my folks of a year of my life (spirit of birthday past), a card from her (present), and some cards from my boys (yet to come).

It was an incredible day. As Mr. Autry would say: "Whoopi-ty-aye-yay!"

Happy Beltane, Walpurgis, International Workers' Day...

If there's a bustle in your hedgerow
Don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen...

It's the first day of summer in the Auld Calendar. That bustle in the hedgerow? Me reshaping my life, in an effort to make the May Queen more comfortable.

This month, I am doing two shows, working two jobs, part-time single parenting for two boys, and generally being too busy. (See what I did there?) But, as much as it seems like the end of many things (not just the shows going up, but the finalization of my divorce) it also seems like a start of something. Violent and painful, like giving birth, but ultimately beautiful and good.

I wanted to go to the Apple Tree Morris dancing event this morning at 0530 to celebrate May Day, but as I was still awake at 0200 fretting about things over which I have no control, and as I will be working and/or rehearsing all day and will not return home until 2300 tonight, I opted out. Here are some May Day festivities from last year in Dorset, for your quasi-spiritual viewing pleasure:



Happy May Day!