Monday night, I made up a missed Second City class with Grandpa Improv, my teacher from last term. During the class, he quoted Del Close. The line goes something like, "If you don't know what to do, fall; then figure out what to do on the way down." Then Thursday, in my regular class, Mama Improv said the same thing. (Though she added that Del possibly meant literally what she believes should be followed more figuratively.) Anyway, last night, JPL and I went to a show at iO. They were running quotes about Del on their big screen, and I shared this story with her. A few minutes later, a guy in the row behind us tapped me on the shoulder. It was my old friend, the Prince. I stood up to face him, and we all had a nice chat. If any of you have been to iO, you know that it's like five really long rows upstairs. Close to show time, I was the only one standing up. So after visiting a bit longer, I started to feel kind of in the way, or at least like all eyes were on me. So I said, "Ok, I feel a little awkward. I think I'll go sit now." If any of you have been to iO, you also may remember that the chairs upstairs are really tippy--as in, if you put any weight on the back of the seat, it folds up with a snap. So I headed back toward my chair, and I did something stupid. As I lowered myself down, I placed my hand on the back of the seat, planning to lean on it as I sat. So... my hand hits the seat, which immediately folds up, sending my arm shooting toward the floor as my ribs land sharply on the front of the seat. And this all made a really loud noise, so if they weren't before, everyone was definitely looking at me. It was fantastically embarassing, pretty funny, and quite painful. I laughed that "Oh, I feel stupid (and I'm alright)" laugh, and I got up. My sister mused that if I was feeling awkward before, I had surely topped myself.
And so, it turns out that I followed Del's advice. In a moment of uncertainty, I fell to the ground in a fantastic moment of failure, and I got up smiling. (I'm not sure I learned anything on the way down, though I bet I got a few laughs.) Of course this morning, I got up, felt my ribs, and did not smile. In fact, I groaned, as I have a pretty awesome bruise going... And my whole body may be leaning a little to the right...
It was kind of perfect, though... because we can't always choose the times we make an ass of ourselves, so it's really nice when it's at least a little poetic.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
One order of yoga, coming right up...
I consider myself a very patient person. I'm incredibly understanding and tolerant. And I'm very patient in conversation.
But this stomach of mine. It's not patient. It tugs at me, like a child pulling on its mother's shirt. Nagging at me to exterminate the butterflies.
I have a life, you know. I am perfectly capable of going about it. But then something reminds me, and my gut is fluttering once more.
Maybe it's the tremendous amount of trust I've placed on that shelf. Waiting for answer A or B is easier than waiting for the unknown. I may be patient with people, but I'm not patient with mystery. And I'm not good with 'off limits.' I'm nosy. And jealous. Though that's all easy enough to wrangle. But my imagination is worse than my stomach.
And then there's time. She's been both so good to me and such the little bitch lately. So these butterflies are flapping, and I've got more piling up each day on different shelves of my life.
Nobody's asked that much of me. In fact, I was right there, agreeing all the way. I just didn't expect my stomach to be so much like my animal. Roaring and pacing and interrupting... and difficult to tame.
Something will unclench me one day soon. I just wonder when. And I wonder what.
But this stomach of mine. It's not patient. It tugs at me, like a child pulling on its mother's shirt. Nagging at me to exterminate the butterflies.
I have a life, you know. I am perfectly capable of going about it. But then something reminds me, and my gut is fluttering once more.
Maybe it's the tremendous amount of trust I've placed on that shelf. Waiting for answer A or B is easier than waiting for the unknown. I may be patient with people, but I'm not patient with mystery. And I'm not good with 'off limits.' I'm nosy. And jealous. Though that's all easy enough to wrangle. But my imagination is worse than my stomach.
And then there's time. She's been both so good to me and such the little bitch lately. So these butterflies are flapping, and I've got more piling up each day on different shelves of my life.
Nobody's asked that much of me. In fact, I was right there, agreeing all the way. I just didn't expect my stomach to be so much like my animal. Roaring and pacing and interrupting... and difficult to tame.
Something will unclench me one day soon. I just wonder when. And I wonder what.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Pinky Swear...
Sometimes, there's a bride on "Say Yes to the Dress" who finds this seemingly perfect gown. Everyone cries, and the sales lady thinks she's made bank. But the bride stands there looking in the mirror, and something isn't right. The sales lady senses something fishy and talks the bride into confiding that there's maybe another dress on her mind that she saw the week before. The sales lady always comments that it would have just been better for the bride to be honest upfront so that the sales lady could base the appointment on all of the information.
I'm starting to think most people are like that bride. We're almost totally open but holding one card to our chests, just for ourselves, just in case. Someone asks us how we are, and we give a general, "good." I don't often hear people say, "I'm good, other than being a little worried about paying my rent, and I had an argument with a friend today." I know growing up, my friends thought I led this little miss perfect life because I was private and didn't complain about much. I wasn't being dishonest; I just wasn't airing the dirty laundry. We talk to our friends and family, and we're honest...ish. Right?
There's that whole truth setting us free theory, so why do we hold back? To spare feelings, to sound more 'together,' to save face, to keep secrets private, to sugar coat, to protect someone else, to uphold those 'good lies?' There are so many reasons, and our relationships function just fine despite that card we hold.
But I find myself thinking today how valuable it can be to let that all go sometimes. Set it all down on the ground, and take a step forward... I'm talking sit down at a table, pick a personal topic, agree to lay it all out, do just that--say whatever you're thinking, and still want to stand up and hug the other person at the end.
How many people can you have a completely honest conversation with? I consider anyone incredibly lucky to have that with at least one person. I know I have that in my life currently, and I don't think I ever want to be without it. It's... a great feeling.
I'm starting to think most people are like that bride. We're almost totally open but holding one card to our chests, just for ourselves, just in case. Someone asks us how we are, and we give a general, "good." I don't often hear people say, "I'm good, other than being a little worried about paying my rent, and I had an argument with a friend today." I know growing up, my friends thought I led this little miss perfect life because I was private and didn't complain about much. I wasn't being dishonest; I just wasn't airing the dirty laundry. We talk to our friends and family, and we're honest...ish. Right?
There's that whole truth setting us free theory, so why do we hold back? To spare feelings, to sound more 'together,' to save face, to keep secrets private, to sugar coat, to protect someone else, to uphold those 'good lies?' There are so many reasons, and our relationships function just fine despite that card we hold.
But I find myself thinking today how valuable it can be to let that all go sometimes. Set it all down on the ground, and take a step forward... I'm talking sit down at a table, pick a personal topic, agree to lay it all out, do just that--say whatever you're thinking, and still want to stand up and hug the other person at the end.
How many people can you have a completely honest conversation with? I consider anyone incredibly lucky to have that with at least one person. I know I have that in my life currently, and I don't think I ever want to be without it. It's... a great feeling.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Life is like sorting laundry...
I often sing to myself while I'm sorting my laundry. "Light, dark, dark, light..."
And then I pick up the black and white hounds tooth skirt, and there's my brain all over the bed.
Don't you all worry now. I'm alright. I'm beyond the illusion that life is black and white. We all find and live in new shades of gray every day. But I've been thinking about last week's episode of Dexter. No spoilers here, and if you don't watch the show, it doesn't matter either. He's just been contemplating the darkness and light in people a lot. And I've found myself doing the same thing. I think human instinct begs us to pick ourselves up out of the darkness and run toward the light. But what if you have to embrace your dark side, cast a few shadows, on your way to the brighter path? It can be so clear which way you need to run, but that doesn't mean the path is white. I guess I'm really talking about the whole means to an end thing, aren't I? I guess I am. And suddenly, this feels much less interesting. But that doesn't make it less true, does it? I guess not. But now I've lost interest...
Do you think this whole black and white thing would be less of an issue if we didn't set up norms? Do you think we've made it harder for ourselves? If we're not kind people who pair up and procreate by a certain time period, then, for some, we're not doing it right. So what if the shadows are just different, not dark? What if white is archaic? Or maybe, we bash the norms so that we have an excuse for running them over. Maybe we accept shades of gray because we know we're incapable of living another way. Maybe we've set things up so that our failures are the failures of the system instead of ourselves. Maybe...
Something to end on:
I'm reminding myself more and more lately how precious life is. I tend to tread carefully because of that, attempting to avoid wrong turns. But I think I'm starting to trust my sense of direction and show life how much I care by just embracing it really hard... in one of those hugs you never want to end. The ones where you breath in. And sigh out. And there's life.
Oh, and:
On a somewhat unrelated note, sometimes music and silence speak volumes. I know it's an old saying or something, but in case it doesn't come up again for a while, I just wanted to tuck that thought in here. And now, I shall tuck me in, too.
And then I pick up the black and white hounds tooth skirt, and there's my brain all over the bed.
Don't you all worry now. I'm alright. I'm beyond the illusion that life is black and white. We all find and live in new shades of gray every day. But I've been thinking about last week's episode of Dexter. No spoilers here, and if you don't watch the show, it doesn't matter either. He's just been contemplating the darkness and light in people a lot. And I've found myself doing the same thing. I think human instinct begs us to pick ourselves up out of the darkness and run toward the light. But what if you have to embrace your dark side, cast a few shadows, on your way to the brighter path? It can be so clear which way you need to run, but that doesn't mean the path is white. I guess I'm really talking about the whole means to an end thing, aren't I? I guess I am. And suddenly, this feels much less interesting. But that doesn't make it less true, does it? I guess not. But now I've lost interest...
Do you think this whole black and white thing would be less of an issue if we didn't set up norms? Do you think we've made it harder for ourselves? If we're not kind people who pair up and procreate by a certain time period, then, for some, we're not doing it right. So what if the shadows are just different, not dark? What if white is archaic? Or maybe, we bash the norms so that we have an excuse for running them over. Maybe we accept shades of gray because we know we're incapable of living another way. Maybe we've set things up so that our failures are the failures of the system instead of ourselves. Maybe...
Something to end on:
I'm reminding myself more and more lately how precious life is. I tend to tread carefully because of that, attempting to avoid wrong turns. But I think I'm starting to trust my sense of direction and show life how much I care by just embracing it really hard... in one of those hugs you never want to end. The ones where you breath in. And sigh out. And there's life.
Oh, and:
On a somewhat unrelated note, sometimes music and silence speak volumes. I know it's an old saying or something, but in case it doesn't come up again for a while, I just wanted to tuck that thought in here. And now, I shall tuck me in, too.
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