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sinkwriterAfter midnight. My birthday's over.
I've spent the day in a mix of moods.
When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining and the sky was a sweet blue. Puffy fluffy white clouds took their leisurely time, floating and resting and stretching. The air was breezy -- not too hot, not too cool.
A lovely day.
The house was quiet. No one else was home. I got up, had a bit of breakfast, worked out, checked my emails, delighted in kind-hearted messages from marvelous, loving friends, downloaded some songs I'd been wanting, and then ... I sang.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I sang out freely, all around the house. And it felt brilliant.
For the first time in a long while, I felt incredibly buoyant, my mood uplifted. I felt positive. I felt hopeful. I felt happy. It was magnificent!
Then I was reminded: the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
I slipped in the shower today.
Gracelessly and completely. Lost all balance -- shoooop -- and quickly landed flat on my ass.
The irony of that was not lost on me. How symbolic of this past year.
I slammed my right elbow against the edge of the tub as I came crashing down. Yes, ouch. Bottles of shampoo and sweet fragrant body wash clattered around me. A slippery bar of soap zipped past my leg.
As I looked up at the spray of warm water cascading down upon me, I could only shake my head and half laugh. This has been my past year.
Heavy swells of troubled emotion -- feeling stressed, anxiety-filled, and lost -- cresting with the occasional swirls of joy and laughter, with frothy irregular bursts of hope and creativity and marvelous music. Me in the midst of it all, riding the wave, rising up and falling down. Surfing an unpredictable tide. I love the water, but it's spitting and foaming everywhere, sucking away my joy; I'm completely disoriented, bruised and aching. I'm reaching, but I have no idea where I am, what I need, or what the hell I'm doing.
I feel this all the way to the deep recesses of my mind.
Case in point:
About a week ago, I had a bizarre dream.
***********
My mother and I walked up a familiar, busy street and into a restaurant we'd never been before. Wanted to check it out, I guess.
We sat and talked. Or rather, she did most of the talking and I tried to listen to what Mom was saying, but it was mainly chitchat and it seemed I had nothing of my own to contribute. In fact, at one point my mom got frustrated with me for my lack of conversation and yelled at me for not saying much. To which I yelled back, "I've been unemployed for almost a year, Mom! I have nothing in my life! What exactly do you think I have to talk about?"
Sure, I realized I could talk about my interests: in writing, or singing, or for specific films, books, music, or television programs. But she didn't ask about those things, and I didn't think she'd be interested. It seemed like a waste of time to her.
So she said nothing, and I said nothing, and we reached for our menus. I thought I'd better make a decision on what I wanted before the waitress came around. Mom picked up her menu and made her choice fairly quickly, but I wasn't ready.
Then I realized... since we'd been seated, no one had come to our table. Just how long had we been sitting there? It felt like hours had gone by.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited...
... but no waiter or waitress came to take our order.
In the meantime, I poured over menu after menu, in search of what I wanted, but nothing looked or sounded right. Nothing stood out to me as something I wanted to eat. I seemed to have plenty of time to choose anyway, because no one came to the table to wait on us.
Customers came and went, some (oddly) sitting down at our table, infringing upon our space, talking loudly, being obnoxious, taking our menus, getting their meals long before us, then leaving.
At one point, even my mom seemed to have left the room and I sat by myself at the table, looking over yet another menu, trying to decide what it was that I wanted. I felt lost.
At very long last, the waitress arrived to take my order, but in that moment what I thought I wanted seemed like it would take far too long to make, which would mean more agonizing waiting. And I wasn't sure I was willing to do that.
As the waitress stood over me, waiting for my answer, I felt her impatience with my indecision. After having all that time ahead of me while the waitress had been absent, now I felt hurried. I poured over the menu, waffling over the (what looked like some sort of) puffy, soufflé-like, baked banana pancake, wanting it but wondering if I should make another choice, contemplating just how long it might take to make it and if I'd be stuck waiting in that restaurant for hours, feeling unsatisfied, rushed, and confused...
As I flipped through the menu's glossy pages, hastily trying to find a second choice, all the while feeling I might really want that banana pancake instead --
I woke up.
***********
This strange, vivid dream seemed to illuminate some of what my brain is trying to sort through at this time in my life: my job situation, the indecision I've been feeling about making the "right" choices, not knowing what to do or which way to go, feeling overwhelmed by the choices (or lack of them, at the moment), feeling lost, feeling stuck, feeling rushed, feeling afraid to go for what I truly want, doubting my choices, questioning myself and what I'm really willing (and able) to go for, agonizing over whether or not I can really have what I want and how long it might take, feeling pushed into making a hasty choice which may not be what I ultimately want or need, wanting certain things in my life but also turning away from them out of uncertainty, fear, and self-doubt...
It certainly isn't about a pancake.
It's about job choices and life choices. Wanting something so badly but also doubting whether I can (or should) have it. Knowing that things take time and I might have to wait a long while in order to get what I want -- that could reference any number of things, from finding the job I want, to personal satisfaction, creative inspiration, and balance in my life, and even love.
Then again, it was early morning when I had this dream. Maybe my body was hungry and simply craved a banana pancake. ;)
All joking aside, this dream does seem to speak to what I'm going through right now, all the waiting and the fitful indecision. I want to scream: I don't KNOW what I want anymore!
At this point, I feel devoid of any strong thought, inkling, or desire, one way or another, and that scares me. I know I can't stay here, on this plateau, I know I must take action, but I don't know where to go next.
Wanting certain things for myself, for my life, but agonizing over how long it's taking to achieve it. Wondering if I truly can. Keeping it always in the back of my mind, knowing I want it, but at the same time talking myself out of it.
Fear, worry, uncertainty, impatience, need, want, preference, choice... the heart of the emotional struggles I've been having about my life.
So here I am, in the late evening of my 36th birthday...
A week ago my dad asked if I was looking forward to it, and I immediately said, "No."
I think he figured it was the number that was troubling me, but honestly, that has never bothered me. I have friends whose ages run the gamut from teenager to 50-something, and they're all brilliant and wonderful. Numbers measure nothing. Age is irrelevant. It's the mind and the energy and the life and the connections that mean something to me.
No, the number 36 is no big deal.
What's troubling me is that I've spent too much time living a life I don't like anymore. Here I am, another year older, and where am I? What am I doing with my life? Why did I take these forks in the road? What brought me here? Where am I supposed to go next? What do I need to do to get there? What is most important to me?
It's as if I'm starting all over.
I'm pouring over that metaphorical menu and I can't figure out what delicious victuals will properly fill my belly. Fulfill my soul. I need that. What I do know for sure is that I don't want to settle for less.
However, the worries won't leave my head. Once I've found those items on the menu, can I even afford them? Am I willing to wait for them, or will they never come that way? Am I wasting my time, sitting there at the table? Should I just go home and make it all myself? What if I do it wrong? What if it's a total disaster? What if it all falls apart?
What if the shower waves come crashing down upon my head?
I'm swept up in the swirl of "what if's" that do me no good. I've lost my bearings, and I'm tired of treading water. I need to find a solid direction and start swimming. I need to take action.
I need that positivity and brilliant freedom from this morning. I need to protect that feeling and harness it. Let its music speak to me and guide me to exactly where I should be.
I need to sing again.
I've spent the day in a mix of moods.
When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining and the sky was a sweet blue. Puffy fluffy white clouds took their leisurely time, floating and resting and stretching. The air was breezy -- not too hot, not too cool.
A lovely day.
The house was quiet. No one else was home. I got up, had a bit of breakfast, worked out, checked my emails, delighted in kind-hearted messages from marvelous, loving friends, downloaded some songs I'd been wanting, and then ... I sang.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I sang out freely, all around the house. And it felt brilliant.
For the first time in a long while, I felt incredibly buoyant, my mood uplifted. I felt positive. I felt hopeful. I felt happy. It was magnificent!
Then I was reminded: the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
I slipped in the shower today.
Gracelessly and completely. Lost all balance -- shoooop -- and quickly landed flat on my ass.
The irony of that was not lost on me. How symbolic of this past year.
I slammed my right elbow against the edge of the tub as I came crashing down. Yes, ouch. Bottles of shampoo and sweet fragrant body wash clattered around me. A slippery bar of soap zipped past my leg.
As I looked up at the spray of warm water cascading down upon me, I could only shake my head and half laugh. This has been my past year.
Heavy swells of troubled emotion -- feeling stressed, anxiety-filled, and lost -- cresting with the occasional swirls of joy and laughter, with frothy irregular bursts of hope and creativity and marvelous music. Me in the midst of it all, riding the wave, rising up and falling down. Surfing an unpredictable tide. I love the water, but it's spitting and foaming everywhere, sucking away my joy; I'm completely disoriented, bruised and aching. I'm reaching, but I have no idea where I am, what I need, or what the hell I'm doing.
I feel this all the way to the deep recesses of my mind.
Case in point:
About a week ago, I had a bizarre dream.
***********
My mother and I walked up a familiar, busy street and into a restaurant we'd never been before. Wanted to check it out, I guess.
We sat and talked. Or rather, she did most of the talking and I tried to listen to what Mom was saying, but it was mainly chitchat and it seemed I had nothing of my own to contribute. In fact, at one point my mom got frustrated with me for my lack of conversation and yelled at me for not saying much. To which I yelled back, "I've been unemployed for almost a year, Mom! I have nothing in my life! What exactly do you think I have to talk about?"
Sure, I realized I could talk about my interests: in writing, or singing, or for specific films, books, music, or television programs. But she didn't ask about those things, and I didn't think she'd be interested. It seemed like a waste of time to her.
So she said nothing, and I said nothing, and we reached for our menus. I thought I'd better make a decision on what I wanted before the waitress came around. Mom picked up her menu and made her choice fairly quickly, but I wasn't ready.
Then I realized... since we'd been seated, no one had come to our table. Just how long had we been sitting there? It felt like hours had gone by.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited...
... but no waiter or waitress came to take our order.
In the meantime, I poured over menu after menu, in search of what I wanted, but nothing looked or sounded right. Nothing stood out to me as something I wanted to eat. I seemed to have plenty of time to choose anyway, because no one came to the table to wait on us.
Customers came and went, some (oddly) sitting down at our table, infringing upon our space, talking loudly, being obnoxious, taking our menus, getting their meals long before us, then leaving.
At one point, even my mom seemed to have left the room and I sat by myself at the table, looking over yet another menu, trying to decide what it was that I wanted. I felt lost.
At very long last, the waitress arrived to take my order, but in that moment what I thought I wanted seemed like it would take far too long to make, which would mean more agonizing waiting. And I wasn't sure I was willing to do that.
As the waitress stood over me, waiting for my answer, I felt her impatience with my indecision. After having all that time ahead of me while the waitress had been absent, now I felt hurried. I poured over the menu, waffling over the (what looked like some sort of) puffy, soufflé-like, baked banana pancake, wanting it but wondering if I should make another choice, contemplating just how long it might take to make it and if I'd be stuck waiting in that restaurant for hours, feeling unsatisfied, rushed, and confused...
As I flipped through the menu's glossy pages, hastily trying to find a second choice, all the while feeling I might really want that banana pancake instead --
I woke up.
***********
This strange, vivid dream seemed to illuminate some of what my brain is trying to sort through at this time in my life: my job situation, the indecision I've been feeling about making the "right" choices, not knowing what to do or which way to go, feeling overwhelmed by the choices (or lack of them, at the moment), feeling lost, feeling stuck, feeling rushed, feeling afraid to go for what I truly want, doubting my choices, questioning myself and what I'm really willing (and able) to go for, agonizing over whether or not I can really have what I want and how long it might take, feeling pushed into making a hasty choice which may not be what I ultimately want or need, wanting certain things in my life but also turning away from them out of uncertainty, fear, and self-doubt...
It certainly isn't about a pancake.
It's about job choices and life choices. Wanting something so badly but also doubting whether I can (or should) have it. Knowing that things take time and I might have to wait a long while in order to get what I want -- that could reference any number of things, from finding the job I want, to personal satisfaction, creative inspiration, and balance in my life, and even love.
Then again, it was early morning when I had this dream. Maybe my body was hungry and simply craved a banana pancake. ;)
All joking aside, this dream does seem to speak to what I'm going through right now, all the waiting and the fitful indecision. I want to scream: I don't KNOW what I want anymore!
At this point, I feel devoid of any strong thought, inkling, or desire, one way or another, and that scares me. I know I can't stay here, on this plateau, I know I must take action, but I don't know where to go next.
Wanting certain things for myself, for my life, but agonizing over how long it's taking to achieve it. Wondering if I truly can. Keeping it always in the back of my mind, knowing I want it, but at the same time talking myself out of it.
Fear, worry, uncertainty, impatience, need, want, preference, choice... the heart of the emotional struggles I've been having about my life.
So here I am, in the late evening of my 36th birthday...
A week ago my dad asked if I was looking forward to it, and I immediately said, "No."
I think he figured it was the number that was troubling me, but honestly, that has never bothered me. I have friends whose ages run the gamut from teenager to 50-something, and they're all brilliant and wonderful. Numbers measure nothing. Age is irrelevant. It's the mind and the energy and the life and the connections that mean something to me.
No, the number 36 is no big deal.
What's troubling me is that I've spent too much time living a life I don't like anymore. Here I am, another year older, and where am I? What am I doing with my life? Why did I take these forks in the road? What brought me here? Where am I supposed to go next? What do I need to do to get there? What is most important to me?
It's as if I'm starting all over.
I'm pouring over that metaphorical menu and I can't figure out what delicious victuals will properly fill my belly. Fulfill my soul. I need that. What I do know for sure is that I don't want to settle for less.
However, the worries won't leave my head. Once I've found those items on the menu, can I even afford them? Am I willing to wait for them, or will they never come that way? Am I wasting my time, sitting there at the table? Should I just go home and make it all myself? What if I do it wrong? What if it's a total disaster? What if it all falls apart?
What if the shower waves come crashing down upon my head?
I'm swept up in the swirl of "what if's" that do me no good. I've lost my bearings, and I'm tired of treading water. I need to find a solid direction and start swimming. I need to take action.
I need that positivity and brilliant freedom from this morning. I need to protect that feeling and harness it. Let its music speak to me and guide me to exactly where I should be.
I need to sing again.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 01:23 am (UTC)Haha. I'm inclined to go with the brave notion than insanely stupid.
I'm glad to hear you weren't seriously hurt by your fall. Well, other than your morale for the day, of course.
If necessary, I will start sending you weekly (I would say daily, but my life's about to get hectic) reminders to sing. The fact that you see how much good it does a person makes us kindered spirits, and that means we have to look out for each other.
Also, I am completely flattered that I inspire you. That's one thing I've decided I want from my future - to be inspiring. I look at actors and actresses (especially in theatre) and I see that they have a passion for what they do, and that encourages me to strive for that level of fulfillment in my life. If I ever become successful, it will be because I did for someone what the actresses I met in New York in March did for me. (Oh, and you'll be interested to hear that I plan on taking part on numerous concerts, etc. between now and Christmas, most of which I will surely post footage from. I plan on being fabulous this upcoming year.)
P.S. Oooo, I also love being a bad influence on people, especially in regards to fandom. *grins* I love Captain Jack on DW. He's a much different character on Torchwood, but, especially in the first season, with his non-stop flirting with both Rose and the Christopher Eccleston's Doctor (who seemed to like him much more than David's Doctor does) and his title of "Captain of the Innuendo Squad", he's one of my favourite characters, quirks-wise. Also, umm, yes, the bit in "Parting of the Ways" where Jack kisses Rose, then the Doctor is simply fantastic.
I'm very interested to read your reactions as you watch the season (hint, hint), since I know that I, personally, spent most of it adjusting to David Tennant. The Ninth Doctor grew on me within a few minutes, but I didn't really like the Tenth until... well, probably "Doomsday", an episode which will probably shatter your heart. Also, in season two, there is a littttttle bit of Donna Noble. Right at the end. When nothing really matters because those characters you love have broken hearts, now.
♥
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:08 pm (UTC)If necessary, I will start sending you weekly (I would say daily, but my life's about to get hectic) reminders to sing.
Oh my gosh, yes, daily would be too much. You're about to become crazy busy! Don't let my stuff become an added pressure in your life. That would be terrible.
But if you are so inclined, no schedule necessary, whenever the thought happens to pop into your head, a reminder would be very cool. I'd certainly be amused and grateful for the nudge.
:)
The fact that you see how much good it does a person makes us kindered spirits, and that means we have to look out for each other.
*nodding vigorously* Agreed, agreed!
I like how you word that. It's a lovely and supportive and comforting thought, for sure. :)
And don't forget, that goes both ways. Let me know if you need some encouragement as you make your way through this year. Or some good song lyrics. Or a duet partner. You know, if I actually lived in Canada and could hop on over for a visit. *GRIN*
I think you'll be a marvelous influence on people, with your great passion for music and performance and doing it well. And I think it's so cool that you found inspiration from the actors and actresses you met in NY. Isn't it amazing how that happens? Sometimes just seeing a show and the level of what people can accomplish inspires me to pieces.
I plan on being fabulous this upcoming year.
heeheeheeeeee
Sweetie, you are fabulous ALWAYS.
But big yay for the taking part in many concerts -- break a leg, D! WHOO! Can't wait to hear all about them.
*cutting here because I'm about to ramble on about DW and TW, so it needs its own post, LOL* Stay tuned for Part II of my reply!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 06:02 pm (UTC)Consider it done. :) (You wouldn't happen to have an e-mail address I could use to get creative with my reminders, would you? I understand if you don't want to give it to me, of course.)
And don't forget, that goes both ways. Let me know if you need some encouragement as you make your way through this year. Or some good song lyrics. Or a duet partner.
I'll keep you in the loop with my slumming, because there's sure to be much of it. (Though hopefully less than other years, when I wanted to be a scientist and was failing science.)
And I think it's so cool that you found inspiration from the actors and actresses you met in NY. Isn't it amazing how that happens? Sometimes just seeing a show and the level of what people can accomplish inspires me to pieces.
Gack. I still remember how I felt the night I saw Wicked. I was, quite literally, hysterical by the end of the show. Crying and laughing and telling Elaine she was the best teacher ever and then, oh, and then we got to the stage door. When these people I'd just saw give amazing performances came out and signed my Playbill and let us get pictures with them, I was compeletely flabberghasted. I babbled and said ridiculously dorky things and practically bounced with adrenaline. What really sealed the deal for me was chatting with Stephanie J. Block, who, not too long earlier, had been green and singing and everything else. She was so honestly nice and happy to be complemented on her performance that I couldn't help but envy her. To make people that happy? To sing songs you adore that fit your voice like a glove eight times a week, then happily great the crowd waiting outside for you? I could do that, if I tried hard enough. I was determined. I still am.
Sorry to get rambling there, but I get started talking sometimes and I just can't stop. *blushes*
♥ You make a wonderful commenting partner, for the record.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:12 pm (UTC);)
Please, carry on...
I love Captain Jack on DW. He's a much different character on Torchwood, but, especially in the first season, with his non-stop flirting with both Rose and the Christopher Eccleston's Doctor (who seemed to like him much more than David's Doctor does)...
Because I purchased the second season of DW this week, I downloaded the final two episodes of the first season in order to get a segueway into the David Tennant series. But I found I did enjoy Christopher Eccleston's take on the Doctor (from what little I saw of him).
At the very least, he made me want to go back and see the entire first season, so that I could see what else he put into the character and what he and Rose went through that season, what brought them to the fascinating "Parting of the Ways" episode. And I really want to see the introduction of Captain Jack and how he fits into everything. I liked his behavior; it amused me. At one point, I found myself laughing, and muttering, very amused: "Geez, Jack. For you, it's anyone with a pulse!" hahahahaa The guy seems to flirt with everybody. That cracked me up.
Where does the Torchwood series start, in relation to the DW series? Does it pick up from where DW season 1 ends, where the Doctor left him, or later down the road, or ...? Why is he a much different character on Torchwood? Is it just that they added more to him and the development of his character in his own series, or did they decide to take him in a different direction, make him more serious or something, or ...?
His title is "Captain of the Innuendo Squad"? *laughs hard* How appropriate (from what I've seen). Hilarious.
I'm very interested to read your reactions as you watch the season (hint, hint)...
*GRIN* Is that your subtle way of saying I should write about it on my LJ?
;)
*considers the possibility*
Perhaps I shall! That might be fun. And I'd love to hear your thoughts in return.
I think I'll have to check out that ihearttvshows site you listed, so I can watch the first season, well, first, and work my way through the series in appropriate linear fashion. That way my comments won't be all over the place. (Unlike how I've been watching DW thus far. Episodes here and there, all over the place, as sporadic episodes aired on BBC America, Sci-Fi channel, or PBS. I really would like to watch it start to finish now. It will probably be less confusing.)
... since I know that I, personally, spent most of it adjusting to David Tennant.
I probably won't have the exact same adjustment period as you, because when I first saw DW, it was with David Tennant as the Doctor. I imagine when I go back and watch the first season at long last, it's Christopher that I'll probably have to adjust to, as I've become so used to David's take on the character.
But I did watch "Parting of the Ways" and the episode before it (I want to say it was called "Bad Wolf"... hey, I'm still learning these titles! LOL), and I liked what I saw of Eccleston's Doctor, so I think I'll likely find something I enjoy in both actors. I look forward to comparing and contrasting their styles.
I can't wait to see it all! :D
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 06:38 pm (UTC)In my opinion Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper have much more chemistry that she does with David Tennant. With 9 and Rose, they are very much best friends. It's implied there could be something more, but that's all: implication. With 10 and Rose, their chemistry seems too sexual to be that of a Time Lord and his companion, especially compared to what I've seen of other companions and their interaction with the Doctor.
Jack's entrance into Doctor Who is brilliant. He's suave and kniving and flirts with not just everyone, but everything. He's from the 51st century, where, apparently, this is perfectly normal.
Where does the Torchwood series start, in relation to the DW series?
Well, it's the next time the audience sees Jack. What's happened is, after the Doctor abandons him, Jack transports himself to 19th century Cardiff. As you'll learn if you get to the second season of Torchwood, Jack hung around Wales for quite some time, doing not much else but not dying, and then he began to do freelance work for Torchwood: Cardiff (or, Torchwood Three). After some time, he becomes head of the operation and compiles the team we see in Torchwood, including Ianto Jones, a former employee of Torchwood: London, displaced due to the events of the Doctor Who season two finale. So I guess TW technically takes place there. TW S1 and DW S3 run sort of parallel to each other, with Jack joining back up with the Doctor and Martha Jones for the last three episodes of S3, post-TW S1. Then he goes back to TW, half of his team dies, and he leaves the other half to be exterminated while he joins back up with the Doctor, Donna, Rose, Martha, Sarah Jane, et cetera, to save the universes.
And there's your brief history of Jack Harkness (which isn't actually his name, but that's how we know him), minus a lot of sex and flirting.
Why is he a much different character on Torchwood? Is it just that they added more to him and the development of his character in his own series, or did they decide to take him in a different direction, make him more serious or something, or ...?
He's much less fun on TW (save for a few episodes when Martha comes to visit and they joke around a lot). When the character was first introduced, he was pretty plastic. And pretty pretty. That was his role: to flirt with things, annoy the Doctor a bit, and look dashing doing it. But after the great response he got, they created this spinoff series for him, which meant that he would have to be a fully-fleshed out character. Sure, he still flirts with things around the Hub, but John Barrowman isn't a good enoug actor to pull of a brooding team leader, so it just comes out wrong.
By the time I started watcing DW, I'd already made it through the first season of TW and was completely in love with the characters (especially Owen, who is a bit like Bones' Jack Hodgins, with a little bit more of a sex drive; I hope you like him if/when you get to the show), so I had no idea that I would positively LOVE Jack on DW. If it had been the other way around, I'm not sure I would've stuck with TW as devotedly as I have.
Rest assured that if you made posts about your DW-watching expiriences, I would be around to comment on them (possibly incoherently if I happened to be very excited).
While some of Doctor Who is perfectly acceptable out-of-order, I think that, in order to get properly attached to the Doctor and his companions, it's best to watch in order.
If you're interested, I could make you a Tenth Doctor userpic. Just let me know what you want and I'll cobble together a few possibilities for you. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 06:43 pm (UTC)