Hm.  

It's raining today.  It always makes it hard to get up when it is raining, and yet there is something very cleansing about the rain.  I know everyone says that, but hey, it's true.  The rain, the changing seasons, the changing clothes that go with the changing seasons; it seems sometimes that life is just a whirlwind of events and sudden calms.  For a while I felt like I was in the doldrums, now I feel as if I'm in the midst of a tempest.  During a tempest there are two kinds of people, those that go below to the relative dryness and those who take the wheel, or a rope, or a lookout and revel in the storm.  Even though the rain stings the face and it seems as though the wind is going to blow them right off the ship some people live for these tense moments.

About three weeks ago a friend of mine called me and asked me to help him out.  He works at Benedictine college and one of his faculty members had had some health problems and he needed someone to take on a class for a semester.  I naturally snapped up the opportunity.  So in less that five days I found myself in a whole different place on the other side of the state.  I plopped down in the chair in my shared office and looked at what I had to do.  Write a new syllabus, have a lesson plan ready for the next day, since I have some experience in the shop they asked me to help out in there and act at T.D. so I dropped in two weeks before opening night.  I've been running around constantly ever since, just trying to find my grove in this new situation.

I find more and more I live for these stressful times where I feel needed, or at least feel like I'm filling a purpose somewhere, somehow.  Even though the rain hurts and the wind is about to cast me overboard, I relish every moment I'm on deck.  The students here are fun and eager.  They don't know hardly anything, and they know it, but can't wait to fill those gaps and are ready to listen, watch, and do.

I am once again getting to work with lights and build sets and develop ideas of how to overcome obstacles.  After this show is over (Antigone) I get to design the set for Pride and Prejudice.  I'm just getting to add to my portfolio left and right.  My class is progressing pretty brilliantly (I have no idea what I'm going to do today because I accidentally left today blank in the syllabus) and life is all around just plain good.  If I ever had time I could go for a run along the Missouri River or take a walk past some of the most beautiful homes you've ever seen, or sit on a bluff and look over miles and miles of countryside.

"Blow, Blow thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind"

Yoga Lessons From God

Light plots, floor plans, lesson plans, study plans, books, notes, outlines, daily planners, laundry on Tuesdays:  My life is one of order (most of the time) and consistencies.  It's my way of controlling the world around me.  Eat at eleven, get up a seven, go to bed at ten thirty so that I can read for half an hour before going to sleep.  I like it.  It hems things in.  

Naturally, then, God must tear it apart.  I am learning to be flexible; that the best laid plans of mice and men mean nothing to God.  I look at my friends and how they have taken big and bold steps and are terribly happy.  Some have picked up and moved to far away lands doing things they have never done before, others have gotten married, others are having children, others are continuing their education.  All these big steps help lay out to me that if I desire to do what I want to do and be who I hope to be, then I must allow God to spring some surprises on me without complaining about how I would have to rearrange too much to do whatever he is asking.  God never makes me do things.  He always just provides me with opportunities.  I feel as though I have let too many slide past me because I had to help someone do this or be here for that or maintain my commitment here.

So, as it is with all workouts, I have just become aware of my problem (despite obvious signs and dear friends saying it plainly to me) and now I am beginning to do the exercises...and they hurt.  Sometimes I feel as though I'm letting people down.  I will almost call it off, but then I think of God's desires for me and press on only to find out that the people I thought I would be hurting are my biggest allies in the matter.

So as I acquiesce to all the things I never thought possible, the impossible is starting to take shape.  As muscles tear, they heal and allow me to bend a little further.  It will take time, but God continues to form me.  

Here's to the adventures that await me.  The pain that will be born from them.  The growth that will be apart of them.  The joy that is inherent in them.

A journey can only be judged a success or failure at its end.  My journey is not over yet.

Of Music and the Soul

"Because I dearly love music."  That was a statement I made to my Grandmother over dinner tonight.  It was in response to a statement that she liked to listen to music on the record player sometimes.  I wanted her to know that if she wanted to listen to music, it was ok with me anytime.  After which I felt compelled to explain myself.  My explanation was plainly and suddenly, "Because I dearly love music."

It occurs to me the desperate importance of music.  It educates, inspires, challenges, breaks, heals, comforts, over joys, teaches, depresses, molds, and shapes.  It is truly the expression of our very souls, a revelation of the light and the dark within us.  There are many different genres of music and each has its very particular and very important place in not only society, but in something much bigger.

We have been a musical race since time began.  Several books in the Bible are even thought to have originally been songs sung to express a story.  How interesting it would be to hear Job sung, what nuances do we miss now that we are only able to read it?  Without music I begin to literally die inside.  It has to come out in one form or another.  Whether that is listening to it, playing something on my guitar or harmonica or baritone, or just singing or whistling.  

When everything else seems wrong or dark, I can change the whole world just by putting on a John Denver record, or turning on Canuckteach Crooners swing radio station.  I am moved and my very essence is changed.  When I am angry or sad a song can either purge these feelings from me, let me steep in them, or change them from darkness to light.  A sad song can make a sunny day feel cold.  Or it may make it feel even warmer due to the blessings that I feel.  In the midst of an angry group of people on a train several posts ago I explained how music calmed me and put me at peace and shut out the poison around me. 

I do not believe we always realize the important role music plays in our very existence.  Is it possible to exist without music?  Well, as for me, I believe I would exist, survive, but I would not live.  My soul would be poisoned and withered, and dead.

Anyway, the point being turn on the radio, cd player, or record player.  Put a tape in that you haven't listened to in a while.  Go for a walk and plug in your ipod and let the music wash over you, complete you, heal you.  

I can't help but think someone is going to read this (even though I'm pretty sure only one person reads this, hey hatewaslegend!) and say, "Jesus should heal you and complete your soul".  True and yet it is God who says to sing praises and hymns and songs of worship.  Music is from God and is therefore a part of God.  Think of it like this, when you listen to music, you are feeling a bit of God in a very real and direct manner.  Sometimes it is the lyrics, but mostly is it just the chords, the triads, the harmony, the rhythm, the rests, and the beat.  Allow God to bless us and how will that change the world?  Bring God's blessing to others and how will that change the world?  I know people have changed me by bringing me such a blessing (Thanks hatewaslegend!).  

Just some food for thought, "Because I dearly love music."

There is a lot that happens in our lives, and I'm told that all of these moments and events shape us and make us who we are.  They build character and teach us about ourselves or about the human race in general.  I have found this to be true, but it simply does not make living life any easier.  I find that I am given hope only to have it destroyed.  The repetition of this brings me low, to a point where I don't dare to hope.  Then I remind myself that, "These three remain:  faith, hope, and love..."  Yet I fear to hope only to be let down again.  Maybe if I don't hope for something, the thing I hope for will happen.  It's weird and confusing, but there it is.  There are some possibilities for my future, I have recently been given reason to hope, but I am scared to hope.  Scared because I don't want my hope or confidence or whatever to destroy my chances. Living where I am I have been given much more than I've had for the past two years.  I find that I grow very comfortable, but I am very aware that I need to start pulling my weight.  It'll happen, I grow impatient, but as my mother always says, "God is seldom early, but He is never late."  Ack, it is hard to hear sometimes when I am anxious, but true.  I also must remind myself that I cannot say, "God, here are my plans, now bless them."  Rather I must make a conscious effort to say, "God, your will be done in my life according to your great wisdom."  Very difficult for me to do regularly, and even harder when I do not see a clear path.  Everything will work out, no worries, I'm just unloading.  "We're all lost in the woods, even the Captain.  The only difference is he likes it there."  "No, the only difference is that's the only place I can see a clear path."

More Time on the Train

There are things in this world that cause me to shift my focus.  I think that part of what makes me me is the fact that I usually make the choice for that shift to be for the positive.  Over the years I have found myself in some disappointing, difficult, and not altogether proud moments.  In a couple of weeks I will be moving in with my Grandmother.  Why?  Two fold.  Partially because I would like to spend some time with my Grandma while I can, but also because I have no where else to go.  No job (though a handful of prospects), no home, nothing else to shoot for other than getting a job.  I’m at a stage in life where I can’t move anywhere else until I have a job.  I would really like the opportunity to teach, to do theatre, to grow myself and my resume in that direction.  I’m not sure that I will be given that opportunity, but perhaps.  It will take time to tell but it could certainly still happen.  There is a large part of me that is anxious about what my future holds, but there is another part of me that is excited, terribly excited, to see where things will go.  I’m desperate for the opportunity to teach, to show my ability and my prowess in a real situation.  A situation where people can’t say, “Oh, but you’re just a substitute, that’s different” or, “You were just a student and that makes a difference”.  The biggest frustration for me is the knowledge that if I were given the chance, oh what a difference I could make.  For some reason though, I am having an awful time getting people to give me the chance.  Other people fall into situations, and I have fallen into my fair share, but it seems sometimes that I can work and work for a chance but am never given the opportunity for whatever reason.  In the past I’ve had some very erroneous ideas about how jobs work and what jobs I was qualified for.  I have a much better understanding of the market I’m in now (though not a total understanding I must admit) and feel very confident, no not confident, very energized about what I can do and about what I will learn to do.  My whole life has been on lesson after another, perhaps the greatest of which was to recognize a lesson from life when it presents itself and to pay attention.  In a very unsure stage in my life I find the definites and hold on to them.  God is a definite, my love for theatre, and my passion for teaching are also definites.  I am so thankful for these assurances.  I do sometimes doubt my chances of getting a job in what I want, my ability to get into a doctoral program not to mention whether I will be able to handle the work or not.  Long hours of studying and reading and writing.  No matter what though, I know where I need to end up and that is in the classroom teaching theatre.  I know it may not happen now or next year, but someday, whether its in high school or college, I know that’s where I need to be.  That’s where I was made to be.

Cuppa Joe

So, I love coffee.  I didn't always.  I actually used to despise coffee.  Then one day I moved near some old friends.  One of these friends loved coffee dearly and he would make coffee every time I came to visit.  He would answer the door when I knocked and say, "No pressure, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I made some coffee!"  He might as well have been offering me a million dollars in his eyes.  I couldn't say no.  So the first couple of visits I chocked down the coffee, then before I knew it, when he offered me coffee I was every bit as excited about it as he was!  Now I love it just for the taste, I don't need it, I just really want it.

I say I don't need it, but there are some days when I really do just need a cup of coffee.  Regular and black.  This past Sunday was one of those days.  I woke up to go to church and I was dead on my feet.  I just didn't sleep well the night before.  I decided not to make any at home since there would be plenty at church and it would only be a bit.  I ended up falling asleep several times that morning before church.  I finally drug myself out the door and into the car.  I stumble (literally) into the church and my pastor starts bombarding me with questions that I just don't care about at this stage in the day, all I can think about is getting to the kitchen.  I finally get away from him (since he was interpreting my lack of focus as dislike for what he was saying) and make it into the church kitchen.  The glorious pot stands before me, I swear a halo appears around it, I approach, and just before I grab the handle one of the ladies of the church utters the most horrible words I have ever heard, "It's decaf, we're out of regular." 

I can't tell you how much I just wanted to cry.  Seriously.  I felt stupid, but I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.  So, I poured myself an cup of decaf hoping to glean any residual caffein from the black muck that now stood in my styrofoam container.  One taste and I knew it was a fruitless endeavor.  And once again I felt the overwhelming desire to cry.  I didn't, but nor did I accomplish much in teaching Sunday school, and church was an enormous struggle to stay awake.

I got home and had a small lunch and went to sleep.  I awoke feeling even worse.  I just didn't want to move, but I had to, I had a rehearsal for an in class scene in less than an hour.  Then it hit me...I had instant coffee in my fridge.  Not my preferred coffee, but it would do.  I struggled to make the coffee.  But the first sip and I knew everything was going to be alright.  

I got up this morning and did my normal routine.  Filled the coffee pot with water, scooped out the coffee, pushed the on button and prepared my cereal.  I sat down and ate a couple spoon fulls of cereal then took a sip of coffee.  I felt like crying again.  It was so good.  So much better than the instant.  I just sat and relished it a while.  When I finally got back to my cereal it was soggy.  But I was ok with it, I had my coffee and life was good.

Fail

Ever feel like you fail at everything you do even though you don't really?  Why is it we as humans tend to focus on the negative in life?  We can have ten successes in a day and one failure can ruin everything, even if it's minimal.  Then, after that first failure we begin to note and expand every other failure in our lives.  What is wrong with us?  Or is it just me and I should be asking what's wrong with me?  Anyway, I'm out.  Rock on.