That’s it! I’ve figured out what one of the major problems is with this world. Too many people have stopped believing in fairies. By this I mean the more general belief in a magical world that is not dictated by our rules of science. We have lost the sense of wonder that comes when you see the twinkling of fireflies on a warm summer night. Yes, I know that there is a scientific explanation for those fireflies (something to do with mating); but isn’t there power in imagining the fireflies are gatherings of stars fallen from the sky? Our world suffers as people focus only on science and logic, and forget fairy dust and starshine.
Now, I’m not saying that we should all live in a fantasy land or ignore the valuable scientific understanding of the universe. I am arguing that welcoming a sense of wonder, and the possibility of events occurring beyond explanations, allows us to feel another important thing–and that is hope. This does not mean we have to believe in a specific god or a specific religion, but it does mean that we should try to believe in possibilities. Once we let those possibilities go, the world becomes routine and mundane. Who really wants to live in a world like that?
So, all fairies and pixies, unicorns and rainbows, ghosts and goblins, star dust and music you are welcome in my home. All of you who want to join me in world full of potential . . . you are very welcome.
I admit, sometimes I choose to disappear. I stop writing; I avoid Facebook (or at least I avoid public appearances on Facebook); I only respond to necessary e-mails; and I censor my calls. I usually do that when I am feeling most out of control with my own emotions. I don’t want to dump those emotions on other people, and I don’t really know how to reach out for help. So I hole up in my inner self and disappear.
BUT, there is a big difference between choosing to disappear to regroup, and being made to disappear. Currently I am facing the latter, and it is making me angry. In a way, though, anger is good because it has made me choose to reappear. I refuse to be made to feel inferior anymore. I know that I am talented. I know that I know my stuff. I know that I have a lot to share. If I’m not welcome, then so be it. I’m going to find my own path. I still don’t know what that path is, but I’m sick of this. So, hello world. I refuse to disappear anymore!!! I’m here to stay.
I’ve been writing every day. Sometimes several times a day (possibly boring all those who are following my blogs). I have three blogs. Well . . . one of them has been blatantly ignored lately, but that is related to this post. I’ve revised a book, and am working on submitting it. I actually decided to submit to an agent, and I’ve done that. I have tons of stories in the making, and a couple of nonfiction/memoire projects as well. And, I’m completely blocked. I don’t know where to begin. I feel overwhelmed by my circumstances, worrying about where we will end up, what kind of work can I find, why has my career stalled, and if I’m completely crazy to want to change everything now. And so I’m stuck. I can’t seem to put anything on paper. I can’t focus on anything. I look for paid work, and I freeze. I don’t know what to do, who I am, or where I am going. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and go to sleep. But, “to sleep perchance to dream” . . . we know where that leads me.
It is time for a virtual primal scream. Aaaaaaauuuuuuuggggghhhhhh!
If dreams are supposed to reflect your reality or lead you to your future, I’m in for a hell of a ride. I can’t even explain last nights anti-rest fest. It was a complicated barrage of images that made me feel fearful, angry, sad, hopeless, and ready to fight and tell the word to f%&! off. I have to admit, it is hard to stay focused on fulfillment and happiness when your sleeping mind constantly barrages you with images of failure and frustration. It’s not the best way to start the day . . . and the worst part is the feeling that I am going completely insane.
People are always telling me to envision what I want and then it will manifest itself. Well, I guess that works if you are clear on the details of what you want. I’ve envisioned my heart out for certain jobs, but that hasn’t work. That makes sense in some ways, because if you are picturing a really specific job, there is bound to be someone else out there picturing it too. Imagine energy competing in the sky over head, battles of color and passion competing for one little vision, eventually one of them has to win and the other fades back or is consumed. That is not how I want to live my life. I also think that my envisioning hasn’t been strong enough because of my own doubts about what I want to do with my life. So I realized this morning that I have to change my approach. I am going to focus on the concepts of happiness and fulfillment. While I’m not sure what will make me feel those things, if I focus on them, maybe the details will fall into place. Repeat after me: Happiness and fulfillment. Happiness and fulfillment. HAPPINESS AND FULFILLMENT!!!!
The typical high school show or movie shows the school divided into groups, which supposedly reflects the typical situation in American high schools. Of course, I’ve heard many recent high school grads say that their high school wasn’t like that; they claim their was no division. Even at my last high school reunion, someone I was talking to claimed their were no cliques and that everyone was treated equally. I didn’t reply, but in my head I thought, you would say that because you were one of the popular ones. I was on the fringe of many groups throughout high school, but I don’t know if I really belonged to any of them.
But this blog is not about high school, except that I think that the role a person plays in that hormone-filled microcosm of society doesn’t really change much as we become an adults. Sure we mature, become more confident, make friends from other groups and convince ourselves that it doesn’t matter what other people think of us; but deep down inside we still are the people we were back then. I feel like I’m in high school right now, trying to find a place in a group. I sit at a table in the cafeteria, and the cool kids go to another table. I hang out on the fringe of conversations, not feeling all that welcome to join in. I am shy. I am becoming the me I always was. I fight against it, but I don’t know that there is anything I can do to stop it. High school is with me now, and always will be.
Yesterday I wallowed. As you can see by my past couple of posts, I have been having a harder time lately with staying positive. I am doubting everything right now, despite making moves in some kind of direction (re-editing my book, I submitted to an agent, and writing daily). But yesterday I got hit with another non-interview and I found myself stuck in the deep oozing muck that brings me down and makes me feel like I have nowhere to go but under. Every move I make takes me deeper into the mud pit. (And for those of you who know anything about OST, the mud pits here are no joke)
But today I am going to take a step out of the pit and put myself back on solid ground. Last night I talked to the Production Manager, and felt a little better about what I am doing here. Now I will try to take that tiny step further and walk away from the muck. I know I won’t come up with all the answers right away, but I also cannot continue to force myself into a world that does not want me, just because I have spent my life in that world. I have to forge something new for myself, or the mud will only get deeper, thicker, and harder to move through. I don’t quite know what this means, but I have to stand tall and fight for myself. And I know I can.
Okay, I’m not talking about the kind of flashbacks that happen to Vets or others suffering from PSD. I’m talking about the kind that remind you of who you were at a different time in your life. Wen I was at Smith, my Work Study job was doing lighting/electrics for the Theatre Department. Then I did an internship at Stagewest in electrics. I love light, and I direct with light in mind. Today I helped clean lights at OST, and I fixed a few. It felt good to be doing that again. I don’t want to be an electrician or anything, but I was proud of myself when I did that job back in the day. It was outside of my comfort zone, and I did it and did it well. Then I fell back into old habits of hiding behind my intellect rather than taking risks for work. I’m going to take some new risks from now on. I have to. I don’t want to go backwards, but I needed that little reminder . . . that I am capable of a lot of different things. Flashbacks really do feel good sometimes.