Surrender

OK.....I surrender. What are you surrendering to, you might, understandably, ask. And, probably, you would expect a fairly simple reply, right? Ah, sorry to say, it ain't that easy. My brother shared a wonderful quote, and I'm not even sure where it came from, but does it really matter? "The creative process is a process of surrender...not control." Now, isn't that just so powerful? As a bit of a control freak, and I need to take a quick minute to explain that it's not like I want to control anyone...I just refuse to let anyone control me. Now, can it, occasionally, become more overtly controlling? Yeah,probably so, but the intent never waivers. OK? : ) So, I'm totally good with surrendering to the arteest in me, but in the past 2 days, I'm realizing that I must also surrender to the sheer angst I feel about our country. I woke up Friday morning and saw the horrific slaughter in Aurora, CO. My first reaction was to feel the pain of the parents and other loved ones who lost their special somebody. My second reaction was to strike out at the fucked up gun laws in this country. And, thirdly, I just felt an intense sadness for all of us who are caught up in this horror. I haven't spent a whole lot of time watching TV because they go way beyond the pale in their competition to come up with the most eye witnesses or who can best invade the privacy of the families and friends...or just plain speculate. I do so despise their constant, irrelevant speculations. But, I have also been reading posts and comments to the postings and this is what brings me to just surrender to it all. Yes, I believe we need to pull together and rewrite our gun laws. I'm pretty sure our forefathers didn't consider the possibility of automatic weapons and I'm pretty sure no one needs them to protect their home, children, livestock, whatever. As much as I dislike guns, I get that some people like to hunt and some feel the need of having a gun to protect whatever they feel needs protecting. I don't like it, but I surrender to it. One may argue the point that had this been a Muslim or a black man, there would have been a totally different reaction, this is true...no point in arguing it. Others say that we, as a nation, wouldn't have reacted as strongly if those killed or injured were of a different color. Personally, I think that's race baiting. The victims were black, white and all shades in between. There are those who attack the film and the violence it contains and yes, there is that, but how many violent films have been out there for a very long time? At least, Batman, is about good winning over bad. What happened is so simple that it's really difficult for us to comprehend. A very sick young man decided that his life sucked, so he dreamed up this scheme to make it count for something. And, he did just that. This is why I surrender. There will always be sick men, and women, in our world and we are totally at their mercy. Could we change it? Yes, we can make stricter gun laws, but always, where there's a will, there's a way. It can happen at anytime and any place. I surrender to the uncertainties of life. I surrender to the vast differences of who we are as a nation, world citizens and, more basically, human beings. I surrender my belief that I, or my peeps, are always right...and I hate to say "right", maybe correct is a better work, but WTF...I surrender to that. There is right and there is wrong, and I even surrender to that. We are ONE country and we can choose to pull together or we can allow ourselves to be torn apart. You may hate what I believe and I may hate what you believe, but given the latest tragedy in our country, can we not ignore the media and just surrender to the concept that we are Americans? Can we not surrender our hatred and our bias and just work it out? If we can find a way to do this, maybe it would bring something good from this tragedy. It's worth a try. Don't you think?

NYC....2

“All in all...just another brick in the wall”... This line resonates with me so much more strongly that it did back when I first saw “The Wall”, on video tape, in my son’s apartment in Savannah. We watched it with his roommates, all students at SCAD, and did all we could to insure that we were “comfortably numb” as we allowed our minds to be totally spent on the magical imagery. Flash forward, 20-some years, and here we are at Yankee Stadium with The WALL, in real life, just slam-bam right in front of us. Oh, not to forget, we’re at Yankee Stadium. Now, just breathe all that in for a quick minute, but don’t breathe too quickly if you prefer unenhanced breathing. We come in and find our seats, just behind 3rd base, look out at the stage right in the middle of outfield and just try to take in the whole scene. There’s "The Wall" and speakers and other big boxes which I have no idea about their purpose, nor do I care because, really,what does it matter? By the time the concert started, the stadium was pretty much filled, and that’s a whole bunch of peeps, y’all. From the second the concert began until the second it ended, I was in the world of Roger Waters and it was like being on an emotional roller coaster from some weird planet that resembled earth, but it was so painful, you just hoped maybe it wasn’t earth after all. The imagery was beyond amazing and it totally pulled me right into the vortex and I’m still not sure it's set me free. It begins with war and a war plane comes flying from the 3rd base bleecher seats right into the stage. You know it’s not real, where you are, but you know it’s real somewhere and you feel like one of the people who were there where it was real. And you go to the story of the bricks in the wall and you get it, you really get it, and now in 2012, quite a distance from 1987, it all makes so much more sense...and how sad is that? Throughout the show, there are images of war and photos and videos of people who are so harmed by the wars....on both sides. Do you know the video with the little girl, who is in her classroom, and her dad, who has been in Iraq, comes into the room and her face goes through so many emotions when she finally sees him? And, the little boy, who accepts the American flag at his father’s military funeral? How does this not break your heart?And, the faces of innocent Muslims who are dead simply because they are Muslims. It shows the many faces of evil, but it also shows the many faces of love. I left there so full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Not conflicted about war being wrong...I will always believe that. But, with an internal struggle of what can we do, what can we not do, and is it really worth all the effort because, essentially, we’re doomed anyway. So, having, finally, somewhat separating myself from “The Wall”, I feel I can finally share it because.....I refuse to believe there’s no hope for us. This concert shows us the evil side of who we are and, I think, Roger Waters does this in hope that we see it, believe it, and vow to make a change. Call me Pollyanna... naieve...dumb...whatever...I do believe we can do better. I will have to say that this event was an experience of a lifetime and I will never forget it and will always be grateful to my son for giving me the opportunity to be there. Just to let you know, the magic of the night didn’t end there. We took a cab back to our part of town and stopped by the corner pizza place to grab a bite to take back to the apartment. We decided to just stay there and have a little pizza and wine. While we were there, a terrific thunderstorm rolled in, and we saw the most incredible lightening dancing in between the tall buildings of NYC. I had seen this many time in movies and on TV, and here I was experiencing it in real life. All I can say is....Amen.

NYC Meanderings

(Friday, July 13) A week ago, I was in NYC with my sister and we were on a train coming back to the city after an afternoon in Yonkers visiting the set where my son is working on a film. It was being shot in an old mansion, quite spooky, as befitting the mood of the film, which is of the horror genre and based on the novel, “Innocence,” a beautifully written story by Jane Mendelsohn. It was such a joy to see him at work and have the opportunity to meet his crew. The only photos I took on the set were the director chairs with his name on one and the film director’s on the other. That was a very proud moment for this mom. After a few hours, the heat was really getting to me and we needed to find transportation back to the city. A crew member was taking the train to get to her second job, as a tailor in the wardrobe department of one of the plays on Broadway, and thanks to one of the guys on the production crew, we were able to catch a ride to the Yonkers station with her. She, very graciously, helped us maneuver the process. I had always wanted to ride a train from Grand Central Station, and this opportunity just fell into our laps, only we were going into Grand Central. Ah, sweet serendipity. We rode along the Hudson River and it was just so beautifully peaceful, I could just imagine what it would be like in the fall with all the leaves in full color and the winter, with everything covered in white snow. As we pulled into the city and saw the majestic buildings, I felt the thrill of the sheer energy of all the millions of people who live and work there. I was really excited about pulling into GCS and had all kinds of images in my mind of just how it would look. Well, imagine my surprise when we suddenly went to dark...no trees, no buildings, no people...just dark...like an underground tunnel, which, of course, is just what it was. Please pardon my lack of sophistication, but I had no idea that the trains would go underground...like where the subways are. It really took me a while to come to terms with the reality. Underground! I though we would come into the station on ground level...not under! WTF!!! It was like a parody of life...what you think is not what it is...so you turn it around in your mind until it makes some kind of sense,sort of. Once we reached our destination and we got above ground and saw the inside of Grand Central Station, I looked up at the ceiling and forgot all about the dark entry...all was well...all was beautifully and wondrously well. The ceiling!!! The windows!!!! The majesty!!! The people!!!!! The energy!!!! My heart sang with the sheer joy and amazement of being, finally, in Grand Central Station. It only took me 69 years to get there, but maybe I needed to be this old to totally appreciate it, as is should be appreciated. We saw so many things that were just mind-boggling...the crowd at Times Square was both exhilarating and terrifying for this claustrophobic ol’ Carolina Beach gal. I loved, loved, loved, the multicultural presence and wished that somehow we could send every single schoolchild to NYC for a month so they could experience and come to understand the vastness of our country. Then, maybe the fear and the prejudices would finally be put to rest. We’re just people...every single one of us. The kindness of the people who helped us get our bearings and sent us in the direction we needed to be going was unfailingly consistent. And, trust me, we needed them more times than I can even remember. Most days we just started walking and were open to whatever came our way. I had my mind set on going to a Goodwill store, so we set out for the closest one which was 30 blocks away...not a really big deal in NYC. The temp was supposed to reach 100 that day, so we figured we’d need to make several stops in the air conditioned shops along the way. No problem! It was so horribly hot, I decided to just wear my pajama bottoms because they’re the most lightweight pants I had and figured in NYC, who would notice? I topped them of with a tank top and we hit the streets. I won’t take you through the whole 30 blocks, but here’s a bit of what we saw along the way..... Gayle King!!! She’s a beautiful woman! Surely, you all know Gayle, right? Oprah's best friend! I didn’t follow her or approach her, but had Oprah been with her...well, that would have been a different story all together. Lincoln Center!!! OMG!!!! We sat on the very stairs that Anne Bancroft and Shirley McClain sat in “The Turning Point” and we went into the Metropolitan Opera Shop and there I was in my pj’s and it just felt ok...ya know? We listened to Riggelotto as we shopped. Need I say anything more? We meandered for 32 blocks and no Goodwill. But, no worries, we were just filled with the awesomeness of being in NYC. Took the subway back to our bar, had a little wine, and all was good. That night we went to see Roger Waters and “The WALL” at Yankee Stadium. I need a little more time to process that, so please hang with me for part 2 of our NYC meandering.

Now what?

How does one, who loves to write, go from January to the end of June without writing? How does one who went deep into her being to find the courage to create a blog suddenly just quit? How does one who feels so passionately about so many issues just simply quit writing...I mean, all together, quit writing...not just a blog but everything...every single thing...email responses...facebook comments...journals....daily updates, etc.? Friends ask me, are you not doing your blog anymore? I say...not now, I'm just taking a break. I ask myself...why are you not writing something...anything??? I don't know how to answer...even myself. Yes, I'm a procrastinator and yes, I get occupied with way too many things which, essentially, makes it very difficult for me to focus on any one particular issue. But, what kind of excuse is that? That's been the story of my life for, well...my whole life. I'm in the middle of clearing out stuff and some of the stuff is really, really difficult to let go. Like my books. I could fill a medium sized library with books and parting with them is like parting with an essential part of me. But, I realize that, if I am to go forward and connect with the me that seems to need a break from stuff...the me who needs to create a space which allows me to simply breathe, I need to let go. So, I'm in the process of letting go and this is, essentially, a grieving process. The key seems to be that as I grieve, I also feel an opening, a light, so to speak, which bring promise of a clearer tomorrow...maybe, if I'm lucky, many clearer tomorrows. In a little over a week, I turn 69, an interesting age, to be sure, but as I approach 70, the one thing I know, for sure, is that I want to be less encumbered with stuff. Maybe it's the George Carlin in me, but mostly, I think it's just my need to be free and that's a little hard to do when I'm buried in stuff. So, back to my slackness in writing my blog, etc., I have this deep feeling that I need to simply admit that I'm going through a depressive period of my life. It's been ongoing for quite a while and I thought if I just ignored it and kept on keeping on it would magically go away. Silly me! Anyway, as I go though this process of letting go I feel a strong need to let go of my pretenses and my claims that all is well. All is NOT well! Life is a struggle for me right now and as much as it shames me, it's just the simple truth. And, I wonder why I feel shame, how ridiculous is that? I guess it's my fear of letting people down..people who seem to think I have it all together. I'm so sorry to tell you...I don't. It seems right to share this because there are so many of us in the same place. So, in clearing out my stuff, I'm hoping it's part of the process of clearing out me. I'm so ready to get beyond where I am and rekindle the energy to do what I want to do. Getting back to my blog is a crucial part of the process. I need to get back in touch with my meandering spirit. Thank you for listening. I wish you peace, love, and a bit of chocolate to soothe your soul.

Happy New Year!

I'm thinking that sending a "Happy New Year" greeting is good through the whole month of January and maybe even into the first week of February, but no longer, because then you have Valentine's Day, right? And, once you reach a certain age, say...65ish, you seem to go right from Valentine's Day to the July 4th celebration and shortly thereafter here comes Thanksgiving and Christmas, which lasts for maybe 3 hours.... and then it's another year. So, very quickly, before it turns into mid-May (30 minutes away), I want to wish you a very Happy New Year and hope that 2012 will be better than we ever thought it might be. Also, I hope it doesn't go by so quickly that we lose sight of our todays.

When I was a young girl, my grandmother, Munna, we called her, used to tell us that the older you got, the quicker time goes by. I never argued the point and, pretty much, chalked it up to the delusions of old people. After all, time was time, right? Be it 24 hours or 7 months or 25 years, it was still time and it was the same for everyone. I loved and revered this woman, but on this particular subject, I thought I needed to give her a little lead way...because of her age, don'cha know?

Well, now I get. Oh boy, do I ever get it. I wake up and get on Google to make sure the world is still functioning and in full motion and then onto my mailbox to be sure the President didn't need anything from me, in particular, other than $$$, of course. Then onto facebook, the true pulse of the world, just to see if anyone had posted anything that required my comments...after all, it's all our facebook tittering and dithering that keeps us alive, right?

So, then I do a few, and let me emphasize...few...chores to justify my existence on this planet. I fix a little breakfast and clean up the kitchen which may take anywhere from 3 to 25 minutes, depending on the crumbs my Dave has left behind and if there's any possibility that someone may come into our home for some strange reason. Guess that's sort of like the clean underwear mentality, right?

Then, maybe I take a shower and maybe I don't, but whatever, I find my way back to the computer, for an hour or so, to follow through with the activities that seem more important than anything else. Well, then I'm feeling a little sleepy so I take a little nap and when I wake up, the house seems darker than it should be and I look at my clock and it's 5:00...so, how the hell did that happen? And so it goes...wine time and then dinner time and back to the computer and maybe TV, depending on what's on, and, finally... closing out the night with reading a book until my sleeping pill takes effect.

Oh yes...yes..yes...I get what my Munna was talking about and she was so very wise. I feel better knowing that she experienced this phenomenon and shared it with me. Now, the really big question...do I share this insight with my grandchildren? I'm thinking yeah..probably should...maybe they'll think I'm a bit looney for a few decades, but someday they'll get it and remember that I prepared them. Score one for Grandma, right?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

.

Stephanie's Birthday

I went down to Ft. Fisher to see my friend, Stephanie, this afternoon. She would have been 60 today. She missed this special birthday by less than a month, which really is a shame because, somehow, sixty seems a much more appropriate age to die than fifty-nine. Fifty-nine just speaks of unfinished business...the business of life, you know? Sixty is acceptable. Sad,...but acceptable.

It was afternoon before I even realized what this day was, and that has less to do with my thoughts of Steph and more to do with the fact that I’ve turned into one of these old ladies who never know what the actual date is. But, that’s another story.

So, I went on Steph’s facebook page and sent a message because I needed to do something to acknowledge the specialness of her birthday. But, somehow that just didn’t really reasonate within my heart, and I had this nagging feeling that I needed to get myself to Ft. Fisher. I tried pushing it back because I had so much to do and was horribly behind in everything I was supposed to be doing. But, as the afternoom went on, the feeling just got stonger and finally, I listened to my source, followed the directions, put on my flip flops and headed out the door. Didn’t even make it to the bottom of the steps, when source tells me to go back and get my camera...I didn’t even question it...just went back and got it.

Got to Ft. Fisher, not hoping to connect with Steph, just knowing that I would. Like before, it didn’t take long. I got there, slid out of my flipflops and walked towards the beach. Just as I reached the ocean’s edge, here comes a beautiful pod of pelicans, and they weren’t quite in their “V” formation, but, obviously working towards it.

Close your eyes and picture the pelicans zooming in over the ocean...think of the “V” formation...the lines are formed but they’ve just not quite come together in true “V” formation. Imagine the pelicans on the top of the almost “V” formation, and then imaging the ones on the bottom, flying up to meet the top crew.

Got it? OK...now the lead pelican, of the bottom crew, starts flying in a downward direction and for half a second her crew follows, but she takes an even deeper dip towards the beach and her crew doesn’t follow, but moves towards the upper crew, which, I would guess, is their goal.

This wayward pelican flew right where I was standing and didn’t go any further inland, she just flew right over me and then rejoined her crew...and resumed the lead position. She didn’t come close...didn’t lose any altitude, but she flew right over me...on the beach.

Well, of course, it was Steph. I knew it the minute I saw the pelicans. I knew it because I had seen her riding the pelicans the day her spirit left this planet. But, this time, I didn’t think so much that she was riding the pelican...she was the pelican.

Is this hard to believe? Not really. I just finished a book that spoke of the messages that people, who have died, leave for those of us who are still here. In one incident, the very young person, who had passed, left a message via a movie which happened to be in a DVD case that happened to fall off the shelf just when her special friend was in the video store. The writer made it seem very real and, I’m thinking, if someone who has gone to the other side can send a message in this form, why would I not believe that my friend couldn’t, or wouldn’t, send a message via a pelican at her favorite beach.

Dave wrote a wonderful story of a man whose deepest wish was to be a pelican for a day and eventually he happened upon a peilican who has a similar wish..only to be a human for a day. So, long story short, they find a way to make that happen. My feeling is that Stephanie is a pelican right now, or at least she was when I was there.

Her message was the same as before........all is well. I’m fine...I’m free.

So, I waalked the beach for a while, kinda looking for shark’s teeth, but not serious looking...I knew that wasn’t why I was there. I told Steph how much we loved her and missed her. She knew.

I left the beach and drove down to the end of the island to watch the sunset. It was incredibly beautiful and the vitality of the colors were just amzing... but what else would I expect...after all, it was Steph’s sunset.

We may lose the physical presence of a special person, but we never lose the love. This, I do believe.