loss

Give it away now.

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Ever since this post and the circumstances surrounding it I have been or have made an earnest effort to be less attached to material things. I’ve found myself giving away earrings I once thought I could never part with or losing some other “treasured item” but being okay with it, sort of like the baby who gets their pacifier taken away, after a few days they’re fine.

Alas, I think my tolerance for letting go is wavering. After conceivably the worse weekend I ever spent in a hotel (there were children, there was screaming, there were ungodly bodily secretions), I lost two of my favorite bracelets. Grounded me would be okay with letting them go, accepting that these items had had their time in my life and it was now time for them to move on to the next owner. The thing is, I’m not grounded me, and I can’t get those two fucking bracelets out of my mind.

So I ask my self:

Q: Is it about the bracelets?

A: Not likely.  It’s really about how tossed I feel with this impending move, my son’s general unhappiness and the difficulties he’s having in school, and the feeling that I have zero control over anything that is happening in my life right now. The least I can do is hold on to the things I love, huh Universe? Are you even fucking listening at this point?!

But I digress …

I am not going to return to the hotel in a desperate search for my two favorite bracelets that were so fucking awesome and made noise when I clapped and it seemed like I had musical instruments with me everywhere I went and fuuuuuck!!!!

Re-digressing …

The reason I’m not going back is because I, at my foundation believe that I am going to live and more beautifully simple and musical jewelry will come into my life. It’s just that I need to live with the uncertainty of when and how this new jewelry will show up.

Q: Am I even  talking about jewelry at this point?

A: Not likely.

I just want this transition not to feel so fucking crazy or at the very least once again enjoy and be willing to do the things that I know help me feel better. So when my new jewelry shows up I’m ready to handle the abundance of its beauty and musicality, but be willing to let it go … all the way … if I need to.

– Selah

Rosie.

Count it all joy.

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2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. –  James 1:2-6 The Bible (NIV)

I am not a bible-y person.  I am not at all religious in fact.  I can be buddhist-y or christian-y or hindu-y depending on how I’m moved on any given day.  Over the last few weeks people in my life (friends/co-workers) have been moving through some pretty tough life situations. As I heard about each one I felt a deep sadness.  While they are not my personal situations and some don’t directly effect me, there is a spirit of compassion that I am fortunate enough to have that allows me to see the interconnectedness of all human beings in existence. It is that compassion, that “gift of sight”, that saddles my spirit with sadness during the calamity of others and fills me with joy during their triumphs. Despite the emotional roller coaster is sometimes produces,  I’m grateful for it.

At the cradle of my at times esoteric beliefs is this:  There IS  something … a force, a body, a spirit … that guides us through life and for the most part seeks to protect us from our silly selves.  This force is kind, never cruel or judgmental. It speaks to us through music, art, people, situations, and every now and then it whispers sweet nothings into our spirit.  Last night while I was trying to comprehend the loss a long time co-worker and friend of mine and his family was enduring the words “Count it all joy …” were whispered into my spirit.  This morning they were still there, so I did what any curious 21st century adult would do; I consulted Google.

Imagine my surprise when I found out it was biblical.  Imagine my delight when the words that followed were ones of comfort and encouragement that reassured me that despite what we may be going through it will not only be okay … but if we choose to … we will thrive! They were just the words needed at the appropriate time.  That’s how it works … and it is indeed all good 🙂.

If any of my folk happen to come by this reading, know that I am there with you in spirit always, and in the flesh if you need me. As bad as it feels right now, there is joy on the other side.  My experience bears this out.

❤

Rosie.

Stardust Melody

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“Baby?”

“Yes, Nana?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time yo grandpa played clarinet with Glen Miller.”

“Only about a thousand times.”

“Glenn Miller said that your grandpa …”

“…blew that clarinet like nobody he’d ever heard before. One minute it’s Glenn Miller, the next Count Bassie, Louis Armstrong. Nana, are you okay?”

“What you mean am I ‘ok’?  I’m fine.  I’m trynna tell you somethin’ and you keep …”

“You need to eat.”

“Go in the top drawer over there and fetch me out that box of pictures.”

“Nana, you have to eat.  I’ve been here two days and you haven’t eaten more than a cup of ice cream.”

“I like ice cream.”

“Can you please just eat this applesauce? Please?!”

“I’ll eat every mouthful if you go over there and get my box of pictures out that drawer.”

She goes to get the pictures for her grandmother

“Here.”

The old woman fumbled through the box of photographs and pulls out the one she’s been looking for.

“There he is!”

photo courtesy of http://waheedpix.tumblr.com/

“That’s grandpa?”

“Yeah! He was just a youngin’ here.  Handsome.  This couldn’ta been too much more before I met him. I sure loved him in that uniform.”

“I …”

“You look jus like ‘im. ‘Specially when he was young.”

The two stare at the photograph, lost in their own thoughts.  Her grandmother begins to sing.

“ ‘Sometimes I wonder why I spend such lonely nights …

“I got the pictures. Now we eat. That was the deal.”

“ ‘The melody haunts my reverie. And I am once again with you.’ ”

“Nana.”

“Come on sing wit me Baby.  I know you know the words. ‘When our love was new–”

“ ‘Each kiss an inspiration.’ ”

They both sing.

“  ‘But that was long ago, now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song
Beside a garden wall
When stars are bright!
And you are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
A paradise where roses bloom’ ”

Now there is only one voice.

“ ‘Though I dream in’ … come on Nana this is the best … Nana?”

Silence.

“No. No. No No No No No. No. Nana wake up please. Please wake up.”

Silence.

“Baby. Finish the song.”

“I can’t. Don’t leave me, not now, I need you.”

“I ain’t neva goin’ nowhere. I’m gone always be here.  Now finish it.”

Silence.

“ ‘Though I dream in vain
in my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The melody of love’s refrain’ “

They are together. Now one life.

Rosie.

Gorgeous 🙂

The Show Must Go On … or not.

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This is the first time since 2007 that I do not find myself in the throws of a production during my son’s and my birthdays (February 10 and 15 respectively). It feels wrong, and it’s not like I’m here of my own doing, so I also feel as if I’ve been robbed. I realize this sounds a little selfish/self centered, but it’s the way I feel right now.

Life happened and one of my actors opted out of a show that we’d all been working on since October, the Thursday before it was due to open. I have journeyed through an array of pleasant feelings including but not limited to: shock, rage, hurt, disgust, anger, disillusion, sadness, and lonelines. Each phone call, email, or question about the show  flings me back into a bottomless pit of despair (ain’t I the drama Queen 😉 ). I’m realizing somewhere between setting my script on fire (okay I didn’t but I wanted to) and a phone call about a pile of abandoned sand remaining from our premature strike (damn high concepts!), that I was grieving.

It sucks.  It sucks to have something that you work so hard on just NOT happen. It seems to be a pattern in my life right now as another project I’ve worked on now looks like it may or may not happen.  I’m waiting on grad school responses.  My son and I are fighting for his education. I’m at a stalemate in my romantic life.  Nothing feels certain, and I’d better get used to it, because nothing is certain.

“Life turns on a dime.” “The only thing that is certain is that everything changes.” Slogans I’ve either heard or read along the way that don’t leave me with the warm and fuzzies, but which truths can’t be denied. My discomfort is from my non-acceptance of the cards that are dealt. What has helped is focusing on what’s in front of me like waking up, brushing my teeth, bathing, eating a meal. Every now and then a flash of light or a moment of clarity provides me with things to have gratitude for, like the process.  The work I’ve done on each of my failed/in limbo projects have helped broaden my perspective and grow me as a human being. Then the gratitude ebbs and I’m left with my feelings, except now the likelihood of me picking up that lighter is just a little lower.

I hope this makes sense.  I hope this helps someone.

Rosie.