I felt like I’d agreed to get married but with every step down the aisle my body was begging me to run!
In retrospect it was perhaps not nearly so dramatic, but there was no denying the feeling in my body. I’d gone down to San Diego for a meeting with my G3 colleagues. It had been a highly productive, really fun gathering and we’d agreed we should meet like this regularly.
So I pulled out my calendar to mark the date.
We found a date in April where we were all free and marked it down. It was a Wednesday. Wednesday evening is my writing class and I felt a tinge of discomfort as I drew a line thru this day…. Then we went on to May and were looking at another Wednesday. I could feel my belly tightening. “No.” I was thinking, “No. I can’t give up another day.”
I spoke up and we easily selected another day. But then it went on. Slashing the pen thru a day in June and onto July. Marching our way thru the year. And with each dark line thru a calendar day I could feel my panic expanding, a growing desire to shout out, “Stop. Please, can we stop here.”
I could see it in the markings on the pages, too. The ink lines (not even pencil!) were shrinking in size, scooting further and further to the side, until by October I was making a tiny note up in the corner of that day, physically unable to mark anything more significant.
I looked up at my two friends, panic in my eyes, asking myself what was going on?
I will be so eternally grateful for their kindness, understanding and support as I stepped back from the brink to figure out what I was feeling.
I must admit I was grateful for the long drive home and the opportunity to explore this maelstrom of emotion with my dear friend. Once I started, I couldn’t stop the river of frustration, anger, even grief that I’d felt as I sat there and committed to day after day of these meetings (absolutely no judgment on the value of that work). And yet, I could not, would not, do the same for my own work.
With every line in May, June, July, it was a slice to my heart, a betrayal even: That I would not make that same bold statement to my own dream. Enough with the 15 minutes!
Nearly in tears on the 405 (my friend offered repeatedly to drive), I let the emotions roll thru; wondering out loud what I was still so fucking scared of. Why couldn’t I just do it already? And in this venting, I became aware, perhaps truly for the first time, how very important my performance piece was to me. I was full to bursting with the need to birth it.
One of my favorite sayings is Anais Nin’s: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
Up to this point I recognize I was gestating, waiting for the ‘thing’ to coalesce, take form; But I can tell you, just like birth contractions, this experience was the kick in the pants from the Universe telling me that it was indeed time to DO IT.
In the end, as we eased into Long Beach, a calm settled. There was no need to answer the questions about the fear or the delay. For whatever reasons, I hadn’t been ready to do it any sooner. Now, it was simply time to commit: Pick a date, choose a theater and get on with the process of birthing this baby.
Hallelujah!
******
As part of this missive I am also sending out a prayer to the Universe, to guide me and support me in the manifesting of this vision:
SKINS I HAVE WORN (coming Fall 2015)
It is the story of women’s journeys – told thru words and dance: stories of love and obsession, sex and violence, forgiveness and rebirth.
It is my story. It is our story.
I am seeking a theater space and some beautiful souls who will join me on this path. Initially:
- A co-producer
- A choreographer
- music consultant
To all of us out there seeking clarity, look no further than the body.