Born to Be

Are you born to do something? Are you great at numbers? Can you paint? Do you make the best brownies? In other words, have you found your calling?

For a very long time, I knew my calling was acting. I knew it from a very young age. I have memories (verified by mother) of dressing in my ballet leotard, having my mother tie a red ribbon around me neck (a fascination developed by watching Wild, Wild West on Sunday evenings), and performing in our driveway. I believed that I would be kidnapped/discovered. Maybe not the healthiest desire or practical -- we lived at the end of a horseshoe shaped street in a so suburban-it-was=almost-rural area. Needless to say that I was neither discovered (Boo!) or kidnapped (Yay!).

The point is that I knew what I should and would be doing for all my days. I was confident without wavering of my life's desire.

FLASH FORWARD 25 years, I am living in New York. Pursuing my dream. Loving it! I was never quite a SATC girl (I was married, after all) but I loved living in the city. I loved the trains. I loved living the life of an actress, even a struggling one.

And on one of the most beautiful mornings in September, I was in Manhattan to be a small part in an even smaller film (No. I don't remember the name.) And two planes flew into two buildings. And everything changed. For the country. And for me.

My husband and I were separated that day with little communication. For those of you who do not know, we lost cell phone capability when the towers fell. The trains were shut down. The tunnels and bridges were closed, Quite simply, I could not get home. And he could not come get me. He was enraged at his helplessness and he was forever changed.

Soon thereafter, he started dropping the words National Guard into conversation. We had both been impressed by how the Air National Guard had secured the airports and how the city was protected from the chaos expected by so many. Finally, he told me that he wanted to join.

Join? We were artists. We were the wacky, crazy, liberal gypsies. We were not a military family. Or so I thought.

It seems that this became his calling. And almost nine years later, he is still serving. I am very proud of him. But there was a cost. We walked away from our life in the city. We moved back to Texas and started over.

In September 2001, I was in a show. That was the last time I performed as an actress. I got to Texas and I focused on supporting our new life (Not surprisingly, the military does not pay exceedingly well) and then I focused on our family. I did not focus on acting. I would like to make this part of the story sound like Annette Bening walking away from Catwoman -- but the truth is I walked away from the acting world and it did not notice. At all. Nonetheless, I walked away for some time.

And after the years past, I began to wonder if I was still capable of acting. I feared that I no longer had a calling. I came to believe that in supporting my husband's calling, I had lost mine.

But this past weekend, I was proven wrong. As I mentioned previously, I was able to be a part of a series of staged readings. So wonderful! In several plays by young playwrights. And I discovered that a calling is forever. It may gather dust but it does not leave you.

I still have a calling. I don't quite know how it will next appear in my life but I now have faith that it will arise again. And that I will be ready when it does. It is a calling, after all.

So what's your calling?

Out to Play

This is my performance weekend -- yay! yay! yay! I performed for the first time in almost nine years last night. It felt a little like flying over the rainbow. I'll be back with details on Monday and be visiting the neighborhood soon but in the mean, join me "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?

Time to Play

This past week, I actually had time to play. I felt sand between my toes, hunted for shells, and thrilled at my children's delight as the waves crashed around them. In other words, I had a vacation. Something I can't remember having in a LONG time.

Truthfully, I needed it. To clear my head and reconnect with my family. It has been a crazy summer but not without benefit. I already posted about my new writing gig over at Dr. Smith's. Also on the professional front, I will be acting. It is a small Staged Reading Series but nonetheless, I will be on a stage. After almost nine years! Yay! (Thanks to all of you who have been following my attempts to revive my ancient career with a resume that can be read in hieroglyphics!)

On a lighter note, I finished two books! It took me seven months buts I did. I wrote about them here. And I got to see a film with my kids. All in all, an incredible week.

I have done a lot of thinking -- it's amazing what the sea does for me -- and I have more to share but I just want to say I'm back to life feeling far more refreshed than I have in some time!

Happy weekend, all! I hope you find time to play!
:-)

Day 301 or Inspiration Around Every Corner

Well, most of you know that I have been an actress in another version of my life and I am at a point where I would like to get back to it, at least in a limited way now that my kids are not quite so little. A few months ago, I wrote of an audition and so many of you were so very supportive as always and asked to know of more. Well, this week I had a little flurry of activity in my otherwise stale acting life. I had a call back for a leading lady role -- something new for me. I have been kind of stuck between looking too old for ingenues but too young for leading ladies. Now you might think that I would be disappointed to find that I am looking a little older but in this instance, it's a good thing. So I was all excited and worked really hard and the director seemed to like what I did and... today I found out I didn't get the part. But they did call me back for something else in another play so I guess I didn't suck the air out of the room. So a high and a low all mixed into one. I'll keep you posted on the second call-back.

I have to say. I enjoyed performing even for those few moments at the audition and I really started to get the taste back in my mouth. Just like a starving person finally eating at the king's table, I remembered what I have tried so hard to forget. That I desperately love acting and I need it in my life. It's a hard business with LOTS of rejection (reference above as exhibit A) yet I need it much like air or water or any other element.

So that leads me to the rest of my day And my multiple doses of inspiration. They say that one doesn't choose the theatre, it chooses you. Well, lest I start to doubt this, I was surrounded by reminders. First, my kids are finishing up their camp tomorrow and preparing for their weekend performance. To see some of them, well, really all of them to some degree, step out of their shells as they step onto the stage is something to behold and as heart-warming as anything I have seen.

Join that to seeing one of my younger colleagues at the camp has started his own theatre company with friends. Not an easy thing to do. Something I have thought about a lot. Thought. Not did. Just thought. Even went to school to get one of my many (some might say excessive) degrees in the thought of running my own company. But again, just thought. Not did.

Finally. I saw a show this evening that reminded me of what fun theatre can be. That it doesn't have to be all drama (pun intended -- would that be "puntended"?) and angst. It can just be a lovely little lark that the actors and audience go on together. I laughed myself silly. and so did everyone around me. And the actors sure looked like they were having fun, as well. So I was a little jealous. I admit it. Yet another high and low wrapped into one.

So what does all this mean? I'm not sure but I know somehow, some way, I need to get back my acting boots. Because they were made for walking and that's just what I'm gonna do. I think it means that I need to look at ways to make theatre happen for myself. Not an easy proposition but far better than spending a lifetime sitting jealously in the seats. We'll see. But tonight, I have ridden the roller coaster and I feel like if I can't get off, at least I could push the button.

Day 280 or What I Threw Away

When I started this blog some time ago, I promised to be honest. Honest with you and honest with myself. So I have a confession to make.

Once upon a time, I had a gift. A gift that came easily. A gift I did not respect.

Once upon a time, I could sing. Really sing. I say that with no ego. I am simply acknowledging now what I didn't then. But I threw it away.

Not like Whitney Houston. I didn't poison my body until the greatest voice of a generation was left to a gravely mess. No. First, I obviously did not have a voice of a generation. But I had a voice. My voice. And I neglected and disrespected it until it was no longer what it should be or what I now wish it to be.

Now. I miss that voice. I watch Glee and sometimes I start to cry. I see these beautiful young people who sing with such ease. Like I did. And like I can no longer.

I still have a voice. But not that voice. Not that range. Not that easy. Because at a young age, I gave up on myself and on my voice. I simply stopped trying. Stopped practicing. And voices need care. They need attention. And mine was denied that attention.

Now twenty years later, I want what I had and I have to accept that it's gone. I can get some of it back with a lot of work but my stratospheric soprano is forever gone. My easy belt is gone. It's like Joni Mitchell said, "You don't know what you've got, till it's gone".

But somewhere inside of me, there is a voice telling me that I need to sing. So I am committing to starting where I am and respecting what is still here. I can't undo two decades. I can't rewind the tape, I can't push the restart button. But I can choose to be where I am and work as hard as I can from this point.

So that's my confession. My life's shortcomings are not simply a refection of a bad deal in the career card game. I like to think that. It's almost comforting. But if I am going to being fully honest and authentic, if I am going to look back at this year and feel that I lived up to the title of 38 and Growing, I have to acknowledge that I was not always a true participant in my career. In my life. I embraced an image of myself that celebrated my insecurity and rejected my strengths. Why I did that requires more hours on a therapist's couch and more blog entries than we have time for here. Let's just accept the fact that I took a really wrong turn at one point.

So now as I close in on the big 39, I am trying a course correction. So I don't look back at the next twenty years with regret. So I can say that I saw my gifts and I did not throw them away.
That I did not pave over paradise.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see 'em
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Hey farmer farmer
Put away the D.D.T. now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Late last night
I heard my screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

I said don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Day 207 or Sliding Doors

I often engage in the self-indulgent and often self-destructive game of "What if?" What if (insert life-changing event here) had (or had not) happened? It often runs along the lines of my acting or lack of acting career. Seeing a classmate on a best dressed list for the Oscars was the latest (unhealthy) stimulus. So around and around I spin. A merry-go-round of unresolved dreams and "why not me, God?"s. Trust me friends, not a ride you want to hop on -- rather nauseating actually.

But the thing is, I don't play this game fairly. I envision an alternate life where I get everything that I want without giving up anything in this life that I love. But that's not how it works. Over this last seven months I have really started to examine this. Over the years, I have heard the phrase, "life is about the journey, not the destination". But what does that mean? Really?

For me, I think that it is this. Every single step we take is a constant course correction. We often focus on the big decisions and think that is why we end up where we do or do not want to be. But I think that the reality is that our lives are created by millions, if not billions, of decisions. Some large but most small. Choosing each word we say. Choosing what television show we watch. Choosing to make a right coming out of the parking lot rather than a left. Everyday decisions that shape who we are and where we are going.

This can be good or bad news. It means that no life is set on an irrevocable path. But it also means that life cannot be lived as I was living it -- half asleep at the wheel. Life must be conscious. Awake. Aware.

As I settle in for the night, "Julie & Julia" is playing on the television. Where would I be had I not seen the film? If I had not started this little blog? I know one thing, for sure. I would not have met some of the loveliest people of my life. Thank you my friends.

So now, much like the young lover staring at two doors wondering if his fate was a lady or a tiger, I look ahead and wonder which way? And how? Any clues? I always hated that story because the author never told us what happened after he opened the door. But maybe, that's the point. Because it's about the journey, NOT the destination.

Day 171 or Getting Back on the Horse

Last night, I did something unusual. Except that it didn't used to be unusual. It used to be a very common, almost daily experience.

I walked into a theater. And I auditioned. For a play. With an accent!

And I auditioned at a theater that once was like a second home. A theater where I did ten plays, three children's' plays, taught classes, worked in the box office, house managed... heck if you name it, I did it. And I loved it. I loved this theater. But that was a long time ago. Three cities, one graduate school, and two kids ago. In other words, a lifetime (or two).

As I walked back into the theater, I saw all the current actors of the time. The young girls hugging all their compatriots. The young men slapping each other on the back. And I realized the meaning of the phrase, "You can't go home again".

It's not that I wasn't welcomed. The few that still knew me were gracious. It's just that life moves on. I think that sometimes when we leave someone or something, we expect it to remain the same and in a constant state of anticipation of our return. But that's not what happens. And last night, I walked right smack into that reality.

So I had to meet this audition where I am today and meet this theater where it is today. And the theater is in a great place. It has grown immensely since I left. But have I? It's not an easy question to answer.

Here's what I am feeling. I have grown as a woman. And it is from this personage that I draw my art. And I have shared my art through my teaching. So the well is still deep. But my skills are rusty. It's as if the well has a very rusty crank. It's bringing the water up but it's a lot slower than it used to be. So that's something to work on. And in 2010, I am committing to getting the old tool kit out and start rubbing off some of that rust.

Can't say what will come of the audition. Can't say what part this (or any theater) will play in my life today or in the future. But I'm ready to re-join the rodeo and last night I got back on the horse. My legs might be a little chapped but I can still ride. And for now, that almost as good as winning grand prize.