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Archive for April, 2008
Wednesday, April 23rd, 2008
I’ve been experiencing a profound restlessness of late, and not the usual Michelle-boring-garden-variety “whatever should I do with my life?” kind of restlessness. It’s been a physical restlessness, that no matter how tired I am from my day, no matter how sleepy I get at night, I can’t seem to rest. I get home from long days at work and I can’t sit, can’t burrow into my fantastically comfortable couch to watch guilty pleasure TV. I don’t allow myself to do this often, so I’m wondering why my body isn’t letting me do it at *all*. I come home, do whatever I need to do for the evening (chores, cook, rearrange my sock drawer, etc.) and then I try to settle in and I literally can’t.
I’d say I have that new invented “restless leg syndrome” disease, except for it’s in my whole body. So I get up and do pathetically geeky things- like, set out the clothes for the next day (gym clothes, check, real clothes, check, what day is tomorrow? Spin or yoga? check) or even get the coffee maker as ready as possible for my morning ritual (one packet of Splenda, cinnamon, favorite travel mug, check) until I run out of things to do. Then it’s off to nighttime trimming of roses out in my yard to put on the table. Check.
And then it’s still only 10:12 PM, and I know no matter how tired I am, I’m hours away from sleep. Cue digging out best possible bad fantasy novels, diving between warm flannel sheets, and then reading for, literally, hours.
Maybe it’s because I’m exercising too little, or more likely, too much. Maybe it’s because, let’s be honest, it feels like a hundred years since I’ve, umm, *known* someone, in the biblical sense. Maybe it’s because my stress level at work is at a whole new, Grade A, fuel-injected 241 horsepower high. Maybe it’s a combination of things. But I’m running out of fantasy novels, and heading toward full-scale actual exhaustion.
But… it’s that time of night again. At least the roses are beautiful.
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Tuesday, April 22nd, 2008
I’ve had a strangely long and emotional day. I didn’t sleep last night- truly, tossed and turned and looked at the clock most of the hours of the night- because of the fear of today. Today was, at work, a very charged day, for a number of reasons, and I spent most of last night talking myself out of giving in to fear. Fear of anger, fear of disappointing people, fear of retribution, fear of unfair but still painful attacks. And yet… most of what I met with today was grace. And I was humbled, and moved by that grace. There are a lot of people in the world who are comfortable with being and acting from a low, ugly place; but there are also a lot of people who, faced with rejection or loss, see through it all and respond with an open heart. This doesn’t happen often in my line of work, but it happened today, and I am grateful.
At one point today, I quite literally flung myself on the floor of my office, in front of my staff, arms to the sky, and thanked the gods. At another point today, I danced alone in my jammies to Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” with- no joke- a big glass of red wine in my hand. It’s been one of those days.
But this idea of giving in to fear is something that has been haunting me lately. It seems there is so much to fear, if I choose to operate from that place. There is everything from: when I answer this call, will it be someone who is unkind? to, will I ever be lucky enough to have children? And sometimes it threatens to pull me under. Last night, when my staff was in hour 10 of what would be a 13-hour day, one of them had the insight to say, “I don’t want to make a decision on this based on fear, or on finances, or on anything other than what we truly believe in.” And so we made a courageous decision, and today, when I expected the house of cards to fall down… well, it turns out it was made of stronger stuff.
The aftermath is not done. Tomorrow might be even tougher than today. But I’m grateful to be in this work, and grateful that I’ve managed to surround myself with people who can be strong, even when I can’t. And it inspires me to recommit, to these people, to my work, and to my life, even when things feel so fuzzy and strange. I’m still in desperate need of a couple of weeks in Hawaii, but for now, I’m here, and I’m in.
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Saturday, April 19th, 2008
Just a few of my favorite things…
Barnaby’s smile:
Sweet Hildy’s unconditional love:
Barnaby “making eggs” in the bath:
Barnaby putting up with Aunt Michelle’s adoration:
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Tuesday, April 15th, 2008
Three breezy days in a city where things actually happen. The company of people from all over the state who are smart, seasoned, and yet who also see this as a learning experience. The finding out that the five of us were chosen from forty, that maybe we are just a little bit special. The finding out that my organization won another grant… and finding out face-to-face with the program officer, who is as excited to tell me as I am to hear it.
The shifting of feeling dismissed to feeling valued. The ability to serve, in a way that matters most. The ability to be a part of a process that brings arts education to children.
Another hotel room, with crisp white sheets and free internet, where I don’t mind that the view from my windows is of the dumpsters.
And the wondering, if I could go back to living half a life on the road: would it feel any more or less like home? And the realization: maybe I need to stop wondering, and need to start focusing on the life I do have.
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Sunday, April 13th, 2008
A desolate pool surrounded by empty chairs and a nodding, creaky “WARNING” sign that no one has thought to properly bolt down in years. A still, unseasonably hot afternoon, after hours in the car. A quiet walk to a small, dark hotel room with mismatched everything including a tired white duvet paired with a long brown velour body pillow.
The sadness of friends gone back to foreign lands, and a birthday party missed for a little one. The depression of looking in the mirror and seeing the same body, no matter how many torturous hours in the gym. The exhaustion of trying so hard to have fun the night before, when emptiness was the real order of business.
The cavernous maw of the week ahead, the stings of the week before, and an unsettled uncertain hope that guides what I do. Another evening of pouring over work at the bar of an unfamiliar restaurant in an unfamiliar town. Another weekend shaped around the work that spilled over from the last week.
The dread of a life long hoped for, and the yearning for something altogether different, again. The battle against loneliness, against anxiety.
And the going to bed, only to get up, to do what is expected, whatever is next. And the knowledge that, sometime soon, I’m going to snap.
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Thursday, April 10th, 2008
I’ve had a roller-coaster of a week, and even though tomorrow is Friday, I don’t feel like the crazy is going to end anytime soon.
One night this week, I had to speak in front a body of planning commissioners. This is not unusual, but I knew that I had both supporters and detractors in the group, and it came at the end of an already-stressful ten-hour day. But I prepared like crazy for it, as I always must do, and came with prepared notes. I stepped in front of them and introduced myself, and started talking, without looking at my notes. And then that thing happened- that thing, when I’m really prepared, when I’m speaking about something about which I’m an authority, when I care about the topic, and my notes dropped to the table in front of me and I told the story I was there to tell. And the naysayers, who were shifting in their seats and looking anywhere but at me, became meaningless, and those who were curious or already engaged were completely with me, nodding, laughing, shaking their heads. It was a short speech, but it was one of those fleeting moments of connecting to my audience that drove me to be a performer in the first place.
Also, I got to end my talk by saying, “Our elected officials in both Sacramento and D.C. have asked me to be an arts liaison for all of them, to keep them informed on local arts legislation, issues, events, and support for the arts in this region. I’d like to make the same offer to you: look to me as your resources for research, trends, or information on policies or programs that can support the creative community here in your city.” It was also my way of saying: our elected officials are fantastic arts supporters, better than many of our local politicos, and they are PAYING ATTENTION, so you ought to as well. But I couldn’t say that outright.
So that felt fantastic. And then today, I was working on a lengthy grant report, as well as reading a bunch of other grants for a panel next week… when the ugly, small, but loud group of naysayers- those who believe that they know better than I how to do my job, and who love to shoot slings and arrows but never to my face- found a way to get past my defenses and lob a cold water balloon directly at my heart. It really put me through the loop for about an hour. It’s amazing that the more support we get, the more people who get behind us, and the more success we create, the angrier some people get. It’s exhausting, and stupid, and in my worst moments, it makes me want to run away and fold clothes in some little boutique in a coastal town, hours or miles away.
But then I remind myself that all we can do is perform, and perform well. That that kind of bullshit is going to happen if I’m going to actually do anything in this community. And that if I work with integrity and transparency, the naysayers won’t have a leg to stand on. But it still, frankly, sucks ass, and sometimes having to pick myself up, again and again, starts to really wear on me.
And now, it’s late on Thursday, and I’m slowly working through the 80- yes, 80- grants I have to read and score before Monday. I’m sitting on a three-day, state-wide grants panel next week, and I’m really excited about it… but I’m also feeling utterly overwhelmed. I only have 15 grants left to read, but the stack of them is next to me on the couch, taunting me with their thickness as my brain threatens to slowly ooze out of my ears.
I’m still yearning for that vacation- where I go somewhere entirely “other” and do nothing but see how deeply I can dig my toes into warm sand- but for whatever reason I’m reluctant to schedule it just yet. I can barely see what next week looks like, so I just don’t feel ready to make any major plans. Soon, though. Soon.
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