Julie Unplugged

My Challenge Brings Results: Educational Advocacy and Checking Out of the Bullsh*t Jungle #Best09

I usually write my Best Blog 2009 Challenge entries in the morning, early on, but today I had to go visit my son’s school and visit his classroom. It is relevant to the topic which is why I bring it up at all.

 

Two years ago my son was diagnosed with autism after a long, unwieldy journey through kindergarten. I thought he was just very logical and on the path to being an engineer. I mean, my Dad doesn’t talk much and look how nice and orderly Samuel always was: putting everything in rows and making sure everything was the same, day after day.

I didn’t know autism could HAVE a high functioning version.

The school tried to tell me I was a bad parent and Samuel was just a disobedient, bad mollycoddled child.  Nope. It was neither of those and they should have known better and therein lies the crux of one of my biggest challenges of the past two years: getting Samuel the education he not only needs but that he is guaranteed by law to receive no matter what his disability.

 

I pulled him out of school and the fight (cough, spew) I mean advocacy began.

 

I didn't realize how much of an adversarial relationship educators could have with parents. I had dream children - until now. Don't get upset, this was me thinking two years ago. My daughters were both ridiculously smart. Both scored high on the coveted tests, were leaders in academics and the arts. How could I have botched up my son so badly?

 

Educators sneered down their noses at his Autistic Spectrum diagnosis. The Speech Therapist sat next to my son and told me, "This isn't a disability, Julie, this is a brat." When I called her boss to complain, he told me there was nothing he could do.

 

I could go on and on but that story always makes me too mad so I will stop.

 

Samuel went back to school and despite bumps and bruises, I built positive relationships with school administration and I am even an officer with the SELPA (Special Educational Local Plan Area) Community Advisory Committee. I make myself visible so that I have a voice for children, not only mine.

 

I never want what happened to Samuel happen to other children. I am giving you the Reader's Digest version here, but believe me when I say it was worse than hell.

Fast forward to now and it is like my friend, Coryn, said when I texted her the news after my classroom visit, "All your hard work has paid off!" He is currently in a General Education classroom most of the day and a Special Ed classroom for two hours a day. I want him to be mainstreamed in the Gen Ed classroom all day, but even as I wanted it, I was afraid of it. The trip to school today was to see first hand how he was doing.

He is doing just like all the other "normal" third graders. He was participating, excited and even called me a “helicopter parent”. He was appropriately bugged that I was there in the classroom. When I was in the Special Ed class, it was not a bad thing, When I was with the “normal kids” and he was a “normal kid”, my presence wasn’t appreciated.

I was so happy he didn’t want me there! He will start full time in the Main Stream class room beginning in the New Year, making the Special Ed classroom as a support, only. I may ask for some RSP help or something and some Language therapy that goes beyond playing board games. He still struggles with oral language from time to time.

So now it looks like I can actually stop being hyper-vigilant or be vigilant in a different way.

 

Wow.

It will give me the chance to work on my secondary Biggest Challenge – which is to for once-and-for-all climb out of (what I call) the Bullsh*t Jungle. I use that term with my students – especially writing students…. You know, the place where you hide from yourself and talk a lot of Bullsh*t to avoid talking (or writing) about the truth?

I was talking about it yesterday in a class I am teaching and I realized, “Holy Moly! I am describing myself when it comes to taking action in this one particular arena!”

So – my intention for NEXT Year’s Best10 is to say “I have moved out of The Bullsh*t Jungle and I have thrown away the key!”

Feels good seeing it in “print”……

And if any of you would appreciate information about educational advocacy or support in relationship to the Autistic Spectrum, please feel open to emailing me or talking with me about it.

Peace Like a Snuggle, a Collaborative Haiku, a Walk-Talk-Wildflower and More - #Best09

December 8 entry for Best of 09 Blog Challenge from the invincible Gwen Bell.

Today’s topic:  Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?

I have experienced abundant peace during this up-and-down, breakthrough and breakdown year of 2009. I was able to choose my Top 10, so that is what you get here... in no particular order. In case you don't have the time to read it all, I hope you will look at the photos and read whatever it is that compels you. I live for your comments… *laughter* so please connect with me and let me know your reflections….

1.    Couchsurfing with the Wegners in Vancouver, Washington:  One of the couch surfing stops – it was by far the best fit for Samuel and I loved, loved, loved the yard and the hosts and felt taken care of and inspired all at once.  During our couch surfing adventure last Summer, I loved the sight seeing and the new people, but what I loved most were when hosts put all four of us in the same room for a good snuggle-before-sleep-time. We would recap the day (Sam especially loved this), laugh a little, dream a little and my kids would fight over  the highly coveted position of who would sleep next to Mom. What a better state of peace than to be with your family in moments of divine love, all together – the worst thing about our couch surfing adventure (worse than breaking down in the middle of the prairie) was when we came back to Bakersfield and I had to share my kids with the rest of the world.

 

 

2.   Speaking haiku as we drove through Montana, especially the signature line we laughed over: “Blue surrounds the clouds”…. We drove without IPODs or CD’s or Books-on-Audio. We drove throughout the Northwest and the Upper Mid-west with Haiku collaboration as one of our main means of entertainment. Not only were we experiencing breath taking new locations, we are creating sacred art together. What a blissed out combination!

 

3.   Walking up from Remington Hot Springs with Jessica and the continual photo session, culminating in the infamous wildflower shots. After this trip, I considered only going to the Hotsprings with women. Too often when I go with my guy friends, things get tangled up in the clothing-optional aspect of the experience. With Jessica, it was all about connection – soul and solely connection. The hike back up was the best I have ever had, too – usually I am huffing and puffing and “keeping up with the boys”. This time I was relaxing and taking photos and sharing life, one step at a time. When we got to the top of the hill, I didn’t want to leave.

 4.   Writing the sunrise – on many mornings throughout the year.  My porch is my sanctuary. It is my room, a la Virginia Woolf’s “Room of Her Own”. I don’t have any other space that is solely mine and at times, the cat and the kids over run my porch, but my desk and its view, facing East and the sunrise is one of my favorite places on the planet. I occasionally look at houses just for fun and if there isn’t an East facing porch, I can not see myself living there. Or at least I can not see myself living there in as happy and creative sense as I live here. My porch writing spot pre-dates my theater experience. Is post Samuel’s birth, Pre-Theater, so it has been a long time and is of this decade.

 5.   Connection with Cameron: one specific time when tears overcame me, out of the blue… tears of discovery and connection. People are surprised to learn our friendship is only 10 weeks old. It seems like we have known each other forever. I am grateful we stumbled upon each other (Thank you, Craig!) as we both imagine what 2009 would be like without our connection… and express our gratitude we don’t have to have it like that.

 6. Opening weekend peace, once all performances are over…. Like writing, this happened repeatedly throughout the year. The Good Life, The Vagina Monologues, A Woman Called Truth, The Winter’s Tale, King Lear, How I Learned to Drive, Beyond Therapy, As Is… all had the Sacred moments after the Sacred Moments.  

 

7.   Dana Point morning writing session and Dana Point sunsets with family. Mom and I visited Dana Point together in October – just the two of us. One morning I took off and wrote, by myself, at Doheny. I spent hours out there without realizing the time was going by. Part of that time was a phone call with David, which was probably our best communication in three years. And then, the sunsets. I told Mom it was a tradition for my children and me (it is) and insisted I introduce my brother Jim to the experience. She hesitated but her words of “I have never seen it like this” told me the significance of the moment. When we had our mini-reunion several weeks later, we revisited this with the group of family who showed up. Taking the time to watch the sunset always brings peace.

8.   Driving back from Pine Mountain Club with Julia. Julia and I had the funkiest conversation about going to the Mountain Shakespeare Festival. I had wanted to see our mutual friend Roger, she just wanted to see the show. We ended up not seeing Roger, but seeing a show whose title I can’t even remember, maybe The Foreigner? The play was entertaining but what I remember more was being at Pine Mountain Club again, the place Marlena was conceived, born and died twenty years ago… well, we were there close to twenty years since she was conceived. I wandered away from the gazebo to be with that thought and then after the show, we drove along and Julia said, “I want to stop and look at the stars real quick.” I said, “No need to make it real quick, let’s enjoy it for a while.” We sat in companionable silence and for the first time in a long time (this was shortly after returning from South Dakota) I felt peace. 

9.      Photo session with Todd at abandoned, burned out, once farm-now-tweaker house. Todd Powers is “my photographer” and he and I love collaborating. When he told me about this location, I was all over it… this was my kind of place. An abandoned farm house, partially burned, all sorts of weird stuff inside and oh, yes. It is right by railroad tracks. I sat in a broken out window and said, “Moments like this actually make me grateful to live in Bakersfield.” The photos are fantastic, among my favorites ever and definitely my favorites of 2009. It was all in the vibe, all in the vibe. 

10.  Standing in the wings before the final entrance for “As Is” – This is a tough show and as the one who utters the first and last words, I feel a huge responsibility to do my job well. As the lead actors set up my entrance, I stand backstage and prepare, remembering people I have loved and lost. I stand in the darkness and breathe and remember, breathe and remember, breathe and remember – and I know my intentional combinations of activism and acting are among my most important contributions to the arts scene in Bakersfield. I feel peace.

Honorable mentions: After glow from “Two Hours Inside” poetry performance… wow…the time was tainted by horrid treatment of my beloved friend by another friend yet my artistic moments elevated my spirit infinitely and would have been in the top 10 had it not been for destructive energy; Almost any time at Dagny’s when a parade of friends came through to join me in writing, laughing, drawing, collaborating, people watching, photos… you name it; Zingo’s episodes; road trip along Woody Road with Emma and Tony, the Zombie High Experience.

 

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Relax: This is What I Shall Do - (Thank you, Writing Friends!)

I am coming off the downward glide, noisy, of a creative roller coaster of a week. I can still hear the wooden clackety clacking in my ears. It borders on painful yet it also feels delectable. The roar and the woosh is behind me.

 

I sit, strapped in still, waiting for my roller coaster car to move to the front of the line where a young, strong roller coaster ride technician will reach his hand out and guide me from the ride.

 

You know that feeling?

 

My writing group today was small yet mighty in that every word that flowed was a powerful yet gentle force moving from the tip of my pencil onto the page. It was a slow motion sort of hour.

 

Our first writing prompt went like this:

 

What my body would love to do today is “to let go of the stuff that coats my muscles, the energy clutter. Its been serving me on this creative roller coaster and wants me to, needs me to beg off – I need that, too. My psyche, my shoulders, my toes, the space between my eyebrows longs to be worked… as in having my body worked on a massage table, eyes closed, soft music playing, quiet-work-without-doing-anything-except-showing-up.

 

I put my pencil down for a moment. I cradle my coffee mug between my breasts and look down at my flaming red nails (they were given that color due to my role in As Is… a component of my roller coaster ride.)

 

My body hears this and reminds me, she takes me “as is,” too. Not conventional perfection but just right. I invest my moments in pencil cradling and being aware of my crossed ankles.

 

I walk away from the prompt to visually catalog the moment. My ear hears my friends’ voices on the telephone.

 

This is all my body wants me to be, today.

 

My soul heard the second phase of prompting, filled with quotes with male voices. Understand, my body loves men before I lament the absence of women’s voices in these quotes about rest. I don’t hide this love for men in anything I do or create. I feel it is ever present and obvious, like the fact my eyes are blue or the wrinkles around my eyes have deepened due to chronic laughing and smiling which I don’t deaden with botox or any similar concoction to keep me young looking.

 

My soul asks, “Where are the women’s voices in these quotes about rest?”

 

My body says “This is how you can give me some gentle rest every day”….

 

#1) Don’t hold on so tightly. When you feel it, relax and breathe.

#2) Remember what it felt like, waking up, nose to nose. Cradled, allowing support to simply happen. Allow me (says my body) to support you without needing constantly to control it. My pencil writes “That hurts, niggly bits and more.” The me who read these words aloud and the me who types them here has no idea what my body means so I will relax into this when I leave the keyboard in a few moments.)

 

#3) Presence

 

#4) Silence

 

#5) Water

 

#6) Breathe

 

#7) I go back to where are the women’s voices on rest? That intrigues me: their absence. My muscles flare. I breathe into them.

 

My phone line disconnected, apparently distracted by the level of deep, standing still movement in my pencil and in my body. I missed most of the next prompt, wandering back to hear…

 

“Today my body is requesting” and I write:

 

to be with the grief that wants to be moved. to make a fire and put grief at its center, not to get rid of it but to honor its teaching. to feel the grief-fire consume me: my skin on my finger tips, sizzling; my shoulders and neck, surrendering. Grief to heaven, returning to earth. Saying, “grief is love, that’s what it is”… firey fingers touching my face, adding to the destruction the construction of my newselfalwaysbeingbornbecausemyoldselfletsgosurrendersintodeathandnolife.

 

I release my shoulders for what feels like the 528^th time today.

 

I find the irony … amusing? contrarian? confounding?.. of disconnections, repeated. I grasp my pencil more lightly and remember to be with the grief in all its flavors, textures and colors.

 

The final prompt arrives:

 

What do I want to do differently today?

 

I want to release, be supported rather than support.

 

I want to sleep, I want to focus. Is this a multiple choice, I ask my gut? I want to be specific with everything.

 

Hank opens Emma’s door. My ears hear the chitter chatter of television. My face stays relaxed, pencil: relaxed. Mantra, relaxed. Leaves, wet, fallen from the tree: relaxed. Bowl of soup, relaxed. Absence of adjectives and worry about word eloquence: relaxed. Wonder? Engaged relaxed.

 

This is my assignment. Engage-relax. Breathe. Relax.

 

I cover myself in a veil of relax. Lavender colored and scented. Relax. Different. Relax. Ready. Relax.

 

So, this is what I shall do, today. For the rest of the day.

 

This essay is included in Julie's ezine, the Daily Passion Activator, includes an Essay and a Poem every week day - inspiration delivered directly into your email box - Why not Subscribe today? It's free.

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Relax.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ta-Da! Best09 Blog Challenge unveils my best blog find of the year.....

Today’s Best Blog 09 Question asks - What is your favorite blog find this year?

 

I thought this one over and while I have found many great blogs this year, the one I return to most consistently and constantly refer people to see and to use is “ReadWritePoem.Org” They describe themselves like this:

 

Read Write Poem is an online gathering place for those who love poetry — and for those who suspect that, with a little nurturing, they could grow to love poetry. Whether you are new to writing poetry or have been writing for years, you are welcome here.

 

‘This morning I logged on and found an essay/prompt as valuable as any I have ever read. I am linking here so you can see the quality that exits here.

 

“Tis the Season to Write Poetry”

 

It is almost like hanging out with my theater friends, except our brand of creativity it poetry and we meet virtually. I find myself looking forward to posting my “Get Your Poem On” work each Thursday and seeing what everyone else came up with that week. I live for comments on my blog posts of poetry. I appreciate being a conscious commenter on the poetry of other folks.

 

There are forums and groups and different ways for people to engage with the art, craft and community of poetry and poetry writing.

 

I visit at least once daily… and my poetry continues to improve.

 

Another little slice of heaven through the blogoshere.

 

 

Recycling Art and Living in Love with Creative Every Day

Phew! It has been a week of woooshing! Creativity. Sort of a downhill slope – a steep one, mind you, on the wildest most bad-ass Creativity Roller Coaster you could ever imagine.

 

The whole experience sort of followed the RECYCLE theme found on Creative Every Day because it was like so much of me – past, present and future – was stacked into this sort of precarious roller coaster and I was in a rickety car which the universe was nudging forward and at the top… whispered a final breath of “go!” and away I went…

 

It was such a blur I need to take a moment to review what I wrote and my photos to see….” What was up?” Let's start with the calmer parts of the roller coaster:

 

Well – I recycled a Poem – the first thing I did was to work on a poetry prompt about taking an old poem and revising it from my friends at ReadWritePoem. I liked both versions though for me, the second, more spare version had more oomph, possibly because it allowed the reader to put herself more into it rather than me telling everything, she gets to put more of herself into the words.

 

Second, I recycled an experience which became a poem… and possibly more. Again, thanks to a post at ReadWritePoem, I was told to write of a pomegranate. So I did my usual thing, inspected the life of a pomegranate from up close and personal, dug around my memory for images and emotion and then – out popped a recycled poem. It felt great to write, though I am still curious if there will be any ramifications for me.

 

Most of the roller-coaster ride, though, came from my life in the theater world – and all that happens with Tech Week and bringing a production to life.

 

This week was decidedly different, though, because we lost our lead actor and the Director replaced him leaving this enormous vacuum in the position of Director so guess who got to step in and offer some assistance as a Director? Yes. Oh my goodness, once again, I recycled my experience as a Director and grabbed the show by its heels and spun it around.

 

Oh, yes, and acting in a show and helping to Direct a show isn’t bad enough, so I said I could do the barest minimums of Stage Management, too.

 

Can you hear the roller coaster clickety clack? It is roaring in my ears, even in the reliving.

 

I realize now attempting to relive it in words, here, will be too much.

 

I will summarize it in the comment my friend and castmate and fellow rider on this particular roller coaster ride left on my facebook page:

 

It was a tough week..but as usual 'theater magic" happened...and we shall call her..."Julie".

 

  
 
 
  

I started this week worried about the production and more than a bit of a mess and I kept saying YES to all sorts of crazy things. “Hey I can do that, hey I can do that!” and it must have been Tuesday I was beside myself because cast members were late and we had work to do and I didn’t see them as committed to this very important project as I thought they should be.

 

So, I did as I thought the show called for me to do, I lectured and cajoled and after the ringing in everyone’s ears stopped, I helped them discover they have abilities they didn’t know they had through the simplest of theater exercises. Our community was born and by the time we opened on Friday night, we were all living in a place of love for each other and for our production.

 

 

When all was said and done, it felt like the last time I road Space Mountain at Disneyland and they were doing some sort of laser show experience inside and it was the most phenomenal ride I have ever been on – EVER.

 

This was followed almost immediately by “First Kisses” read through at the home of Andy and Dawn Tyack, which was sort of like gathering with eighteen other people on a nice, soft quilt and sharing our love stories over a bowl of popcorn.

 

We’ll save that blog for next time….

 

 

#Best 09 Blog Challenge: Kicked off in January with Best Nights Out

2009 has been a breakthrough years in many ways, starting from the very beginning. I couldn’t narrow it down completely, so I am going to claim two nights in January, 2009 as my best nights out. 

 

The first was a New Years Eve party, something of a tradition for many of my friends but me? I had never been. In fact, I hadn’t been out for New Year’s Eve for…. twenty years. Seriously. So, this simple and crowded festive party was significant for me.

 

I didn’t know what to expect and was strangely nervous about things. I mean, what if there was a bunch of kissing at the stroke of midnight? (There wasn’t). I found all my high-school-girl nervousness came flooding back to me.

 

Then, there was my first birthday party in another outrageous number. I remember in 1986 there was a small get together for me, but since then there had not been a party, not a cake, nothing like that – so this year, I suppose moved by the New Year’s Eve party, I hosted my own birthday party along with my friend, Jennie.

 

It was crowded with many of my closest friends and I had each person there make a quilt square on it so I could “wrap myself in the love” all year long. I enjoyed the heck out of myself. As a party favor, I wrote each person a haiku – complete with a ceremony of sorts for party goers.

 

That was exhausting. It was a fabulous idea but tiring execution.

 

Those two nights out were what set up the rest of the year for breakthrough.

 

I am grateful I didn’t let another New Year nor another Birthday go by without noticing.

 

Speechless on Opening Night for "As Is" at Bakersfield Community Theater

I made it through my closing monologue without completely losing it. Came close, but made it.

The panels for the AIDS quilt flanking the stage as I spoke my words did something, evoked something in me. I was speaking for these beautiful people - all of whom had too few years here.

The quilts will be at BCT for the next two shows only. If you are in Bakersfield, I hope you will consider attending. Bakersfield Community Theater is at 2400 S. Chester Avenue. Call 831-8114 for reservations.

The Road to Joy Is.....(#Writing/#Art #Journal Prompt Exploration)

 

I had a simple writing and art journal prompt yesterday from one of the Yahoogroups I belong to BlissJournaling. The prompt? “Joy” – which always seems to lead me into singing “Ode to Joy.” I pulled out my watercolor moleskine and attempted to mix a purple from two different hues and instead, got a sort of brown, not so pretty color which I meant to paint into a Road of Sorts.

 

The phrase “Ode to Joy” was replaced by “Road to Joy” and off my mind, heart, and paintbrush went, skipping, hopping and occasionally stumbling or needing to rest, to catch my breath.

 

Here is a photo of my journal pages:

 

The Road to Joy is dappled with mud, not daisies as a lesser soul might suspect.

 

The Road to Joy is dirty, with twists and turns and rocks and craters and lies and disapproval

 

The Road to Joy is fed by forgiveness and light, packages tied up in hope and trust and movement

 

The Road is big and tall and complete, even and especially in moments of active, intentional stillness.

 

The Road to Joy is paved with stones of grace, of passion, of loss and discovery and tears and brokenness that becomes whole and breaks again.

 

The Road to Joy passes by your door and my door and his and hers and theirs as well.

 

The Road to Joy is in conversation, it is in argument, it is in laughter and winks and open hands and arms and tapping toes.

 

I followed my adventure yesterday with a search on Google, first to find lyrics for Ode to Joy which lead me to YouTube where I caught an interview of Leonard Bernstein, talking about Beethoven and Ode to Joy.

 

From Leonard Bernstein – “Speaks directly to so many people…the universality of brotherhood and love.” He goes on to say “Beethoven is accessible without being ordinary,” sort of like “The Road to Joy.”

 

Here is a thought and an assignment:

 

Watch the video in two phases. First, listen to what Leonard Benstein has to say about Beethoven the man and then use the music as a free writing accompaniment to these prompts and questions:

 

 

 

The Road to Joy Is?

 

The Road to Joy is….

 

The. Road. To. Joy. Is…

 

Bernstein said, “Beethoven was a creature of grace and innocence and trust – hope and future and immortality.” Sort of like me. Sort of like you.

 

Here is a YouTube video sans commentary - a great, passionately played version... loving it. Press PLAY and then, write:

 

 

 

Your road to joy is…..

 

 

I have included some bonus quotes to inspire you below as well. Please leave a comment and let me know what you discovered along your Road of Joy…

 

Have a splendid weekend….. 

 

 

The Road to Joy

 

Mother Teresa says:

 

“Joy is prayer

 Joy is strength

 Joy is love

Joy is a net of love by

which you can catch souls. “   

 

Anne Lamott says:

 

“Joy is the best makeup.”

 

Sister Mary Rose McGeady

 

“There is no greater joy nor greater reward than

to make a fundamental difference in someone's life.”

 

Audre Lorde says:

 

“The sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic, or intellectual, forms a bridge between the sharers which can be the basis for understanding much of what is not shared between them, and lessens the threat of their difference.”

 

Kahlil Gibran says:

 “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?”

Melba Colgrove says:

“Joy is the feeling of grinning inside.”

 

Blog Challenge Day 4: A Book Junkie's Delight - My choices? Poetry and Solitude #Best09

Today’s Best of 2009 Blog Challenge is on one of my favorite topics: BOOKS! I am a bona fide book junkie and word lover, so this was both difficult and easy to choose which books to share with the world.

Here goes:

I couldn’t narrow my book of the year to one book – and since Poetry collections weren’t listed in today’s prompt, I feel as if I am allowed the privilege of an extra title on my list of “Really, you must read this book!” Neither of my books was published in 2009. Both were culled from past years (2001 and 1973, respectively).

I am speaking of Cries of the Spirit, Edited by Marilyn Sewell. (Close second is her collection titled Claiming the Source Within: A Sourcebook of Women’s Poetry. The only reason I singled out Cries is that I read it first.) These collections include 300 poems each, all written by women poets from a variety of time periods with a variety of styles of writing, all related to spirituality. I was introduced to some new poets through this collection (for example, Denise Levertov, how could I not know her – and now I have added some of her single collections to my book shelf) and Marge Piercy. Favorites like Mary Oliver and Anne Sexton are well represented.

When my daughter’s English class had a Summer  assignment to read and analyze a poem, these are the books I offered to her friends. “You will find the just right poem on these pages.”

The other title is Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton.

Reading Sarton is like sitting down with a trusted friend over  a cup of coffee as the afternoon turns to night and after laughing for what feels like the thousandth time you look out the window and notice it is pitch black and your stomach is growling because you missed your normal dinner hours ago, unnoticed in the delicious conversation.

She gave me permission to be myself. This is a common theme in the books I enjoy but what I especially loved is she  spoke to me from a generation ago: she wrote when I was just eleven years old yet she felt completely contemporary to me.  When I read her, I wished I could get to know her face-to-face. I just know I would fall in deep friendship with her – or I could hope, anyway.

I also love the collection of letters from a lifetime from her to Juliette Huxley. Beautifully written letters. I could select quotes just from Sarton and fill a lengthy book. 

I have been in the throes of theater since Mid-Summer and as of Sunday night will be on a much needed break. My plan is to climb into bed with several books, my notebook and pens, candles and maybe tea and more tea and a cookie or two, provided by my patient love. I ordered one of Sarton’s other books (Plant Dreaming Deep) to be one of my companions.

I think that says a lot.

I look forward to finding other books from the Best of 2009 Blog Challenge participants. I wonder if any one else will include poetry? 

Creating a Circle of Community

 

 

We stood in a circle, holding hands. People brought together with the intention of bringing a story to life, on-stage. We had less than twenty four hours to go until we unveil our work for an audience.

 

It had been a stressful previous seventy-two hours. We had lost our lead actor and replaced him with our Director, who then turned the remaining Directorial duties to me. There isn’t much focus or attention played on what happens in a collaborative project when people leave or when the wire is shortened, or feels like it is shortened, drastically.

 

I have seen, over and over again, a show being made or broken by connection by intimacy by trust between and among the actors. Tuesday night I was angry and beyond words disappointed with some of the actors who had yet to show me anything near to the best I expected from them.

 

I ranted and raved and repeated several scenes over and over and over again. My friend, John, was watching rehearsal and said, “You are so efficient with this process. I can’t believe how efficient you have been tonight.”

 

I am goal directed, John. I wanted to see progress.

 

We gathered in a circle. We shared an energy exercise.

 

They came, mostly on time, and as we started our first run through on Wednesday night I watched as their shakiness became more steady and the work they had done started showing in the choices they were making.

 

“We want to suck the air out of the spaces in this show. We just need to fine tune it, fine tune your work and make the show a lot, lot better.”

 

I have ways of directing that are unusual and that work.

 

We start rehearsal in a circle. We end rehearsal in a circle. Sometimes, like last night, we separate for our breaks in a circle. We hold hands in our circle, making sure every person who is there is touched by someone else before they leave the theater.

 

Last night before our second run of the show – yes, we ran it twice as we are running it tonight twice as well – we did an improve exercise to help the actors tune into possible different choices for some of the still not just-right moments in the play.

 

The pulse in the room shifted in those moments. I had them return to the circle “meditatively” and allowed them to translate that however they saw fit. What I saw was this: a certain sacredness descended on the production that was waiting for us to show up and invite sacredness in.

 

When our second run was over, we shared a compliment circle and pizza, provided for all by those in the cast who could pitch in. No one was left out: everyone got complimented – from each cast mate to each cast mate. All of a sudden, there was a deluge of compliments which I actually had to facilitate a more casual end so that I could leave rehearsal and get home.

 

Everything changed last night.

 

Our mixed up bunch of people became a community of people, of artists, all of whom love and support one another. It was the way it should be when we are working this intently together, interdependent on each other

 

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