So it seems that 29 is the lucky age where I get to become acutely aware of this whole “age” business — or, rather, the “stage of life” I’m in — or, rather, “should” [?] be in.
That is to say, I have been attending a shit-load of weddings and baby showers. Read more…
And thus, shall we make a Day of Rest for all of our days.
Plans for this weekend: [ n o t h i n g n e s s ]
Got home late after improv class, tired and hungry. Usually, I don’t like eating late, but I was ravenous.
To my unluck, the fridge was empty, save for the basics.
So for dinner I made a mustard, mayo, curry, worcestershire and pickle sandwhich.
But I could tell My Brain was STARVING for good fats, so I added butter and coconut oil.
I think it’s time to go to the grocery store.
Why is it that I can only stay happy three days in a row? Ah, that’s right, Memorial Day ended…
I sit down to a ginger-salmon spinach and micro-greens salad (“it’s amazing what happens when you actually cook, rather than graze,” I say to myself). As I am flipping through my journal searching for the next blank page, the notebook flaps open to a letter:
Universe is kicking me in the nads.
I take this as a direct challenge to grow balls of steel.
(Metaphorically, of course.)
THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY!
The Time: Now
The Arena: Here
The Opponent: Self, Universe
The Objective: Keep breathing, keep sane
The Method: “Oh, Snail! Climb Mt. Fuji. But slowly, slowly” –Issa
The Challenges: Work overload with heightened bomb-dropped deadline, broken heart, mixed depression with anxiety, lack of sleep, nightmares, stomach flu, radiator-less, soul-ripping therapy sessions on lifehood traumas, no food in kitchen except frozen bread, soy sauce, ghee, canned salmon.
Weapons of Choice: Meditation, work from home, kick-ass view, naps, bottomless cup o’ mint tea, fuzzy socks, hot baths, copious amounts of butter, toast, 4 layers of clothing + 0-degree REI sleeping bag, acupuncture, creative determination, gratitude, friends, call Mom.
“What?!” I said, total disbelief splattered across my face. “How in the hell are you going to explain this–?” I glided my hand across and over the sloppyness below.
God just looked at me, slightly embarrassed.
“Well…?” I provoked. “Just try and tell me how the fuck you came up this.” I was trying to be gentle. I really was. But God had gone and done it again.
“How am I going to handle this one? How the fuck did I end up being reborn?!”
“I didn’t know it was going to be so… permanent.” God said, wincing. “It was just going to be a little love experiment — break me up into pieces, all loving each, each-to-all, and then add some pretty colors & fragrances & animals & experiences & stuff, and…” Suddenly God broke off crying.
The Mouth of God flung open like a yawning cave, 10-thousand furlongs wide and full of empty eternity. Tears crashed oceans. All of existence tumbled out, Bahagavad Gita-like.
“I didn’t mean to hurt nobody! ” God sputtered through sobs. “I just wanted to- to- play!”
Now I felt like a douche.
I reached for The Shoulder of God and touched it, gently. God flinched, at first, but then relaxed into my hand. We both breathed wide-lungs. I let a beat go by.
I softened my voice to a whisper. “I know you had good intentions. And I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just… you might have thought you were playing, but now I — we — have to live this. There’s so much suffering you spilled all over the Goddam place — (sorry) — and you made quite a mess.” God looked up. I sighed. And smiled.
“Here, here, darling — let me help you clean it up.”
I am so physically, emotionally, mentally, creatively and work-ly exhausted, that I have no choice tonight but to relax.
See! The upside to stress!
Thanks to those who came out and made up a spectacular crowd for our first improv bash! We has a great time making you laugh! Hopefully photos soon.
My Improv Troupe — named “Strangely Addictive Behavior” — is doing its first performances this Thursday & Saturday. We are a Level I doing short form, mainly improv games. Come support us!
Thursday May 6, 8pm. $5
Saturday May 8, 7pm. $10
Pan Theater
2135 Broadway
Oakland, CA 94612
(415) 261-1641
The usefulness of a cup is in its emptiness. -Chinese proverb
Your head is full of bananas! But your heart? Full of gold.
Let it swing, baby, let it all swing…
Focus, self-mastery, skill, duty, honor, death before disgrace, Devotion, Shame, regret, atonement, Right Intention, integrity, Temperance, faith, balance, compassion, Forgiveness… Self-immolation, joy, Freedom… Contribution.
