Tuesday, May 27, 2008

The Day That Rocked.

When J.K. Rowling wrote about Time Turners in the HP books, I think she tapped into something much more powerful than the idea of some external thing that slows down time for you. I think, (and stay with me here) that we have the ability to slow down time for things that are that important to us. Hermionie slowed down time for her education. Yesterday, for one of the first times in a very Very long time, I found myself being able to slow down time for being.


Sometimes, you're lucky enough to have days that stick out in your memory as so far from your normal routien that it almost feels like someone else's life. Then you get sad because you want that to Be YOUR life, but then you realize, hey, wait a minute, that was my life...and vow to make it happen more and more.


I didn't feel like I was in Chicago yesterday. I felt like I was sitting in a field on some distant planet somewhere (and some of the infrared pictures certianly helped that!) where time just sort of s l o w e d d o w n . . .


When's the last time I went on a honest to goodness picnic? Like, a serious blanketandsandwitchesandwineinplasticcupsandkickyourshoesoff picnic? It was back when there'd be juice in those plastic cups, I can tell you THAT, at least. And it was probably in my own back yard during summer vacation, where I didn't have to worry about anything Anyway.


One of the hardest things for me to do (in the world, I think) is to stop. Because honestly, I don't know what what to do when I stop. Yes yes I see you shaking your head "Just do Nothing!" Right. Nothing. Good idea. ::sarcastic head tilt and hand gesture:: It's really hard to do nothing. I know how sharks feel, you know. If they stop swimming they'll drown (seriously!). I know, I know, I'm not a shark. But sometimes I get worried that if I stop, even for a moment, that I won't be able to start up again.


The good thing is, that theory was proven wrong. Turns out, stopping, especially with good friends around, is highly theraputic and a lot easier to "deal with" than I thought. There were a few moments at the start of The Stopping where my brain started firing off "Ack! You should be at the gym!" or "Eep! Don't eat that!" or "Say something! Ah! EnterTAIN!!" But I was able to turn those things off by playing with the pretty cameras that were spread out on the blanket.


After The Day That Rocked was coming to an end for me, I went back to the aerial space to practice a bit and to have a quiet place to go through my lines for an audition that I have later today.


I found the song "Transatlantisism" on my music player and plugged it into the speakers. It was song I had discovered and listened to obsessively on my way to and from the Huge Christmas Gig. I choreographed acts in my head to that song over and over...I was so happy during that show...the process...even the drive getting there...I felt so lucky during that time.


I started the song, put my script down, and started dancing (as best as I could with a still BeCarefulWithMe-knee) with the trapeze. (Did I tell you that 3 months ToTheDay after surgery, I tried a knee hang for the first time? Cool, right?) I got on it and moved to the song. Tried to do some of the choreography that I'd come up with 5 months ago and couldn't do most of it but at least I remembered.


I felt all of those old feelings that I first had when I was listening to it in the car all those months back...I moved and sat and hung and drapped myself over the bar, ropes, being careful with my knee but just trying to do it. Feeling supported by the warm-fuzzies of the day, of friends who will lay around with you on a blanket and not need you to entertain them.


I started to cry. And more tears came. When the song was over I went and put it on repeat. I felt The Stopping again. I turned it up and cried my eyes out. I cried and cried for being able to start to be back...I cried for the time lost...I cried for being lonely...I cried for being so greatful...I cried for the fears I mostly had put to rest by friends the night before...I cried for the Little Training Space that despite the rats and bad neighborhood, was the first place I feel like I actually trained in...I cried for how I isolate myself...I cried for how excited I am about the next few months...I cried because I know it's all going to work out...I cried because I'm frustrated with my body...I cried because on warm summery nights I miss being at home surrounded by a lot of people...I cried because I had 2 wonderful friends that I really just met in October lay on the ground looking up at the sky for hours, talking to me like we've known each other forever...I cried because I'm so unsure...I cried because I still feel left out sometimes...I cried because I was so happy...I cried because people understand...I cried because I Stopped and didn't know what else to do.



2 comments:

Jackie said...

And I cried when I read it because I love you so much and can't explain it and you will never know.....
Forever,
Auntie

Josh Hawkins said...

Oh, great writing.

And for the day, I love how we're all on the same wavelength also. Just amazing. It was a pleasure, an honor, to share one of the best days of my life with you, and without you, it wouldn't have been one of the best days of my life. Thank you.

I can't remember the last I felt like this, I don't know if I've ever felt like this. Yeah, we're going to have more of these if I have any say.