Not the Bluebird of Happiness

And the karma just keeps cabbage-rolling along. (ref. October 24) I've been very busy lately, which is why I haven't written a blurb for quite some time now. However, I haven't been busy enough to stay out of trouble. Mind you, it hasn't been all bad. I took an actor's scene study class and played a woman I would consider a real loser had I met her in real life. It was fun. Unfortunately, for the five weeks I was getting to know my character, she started to bleed into my real life and I found myself feeling bitter over things long passed. That's a normal part of the actor's craft - drawing on personal experience to flesh out a character. It's also the sort of stuff that makes art and most forms of self-expression therapeutic. That's good, too, of course - Aristotilean catharsis and all that - the purging of negative emotions, etc. Most of the time I like that. After all, I'm an actress. I like drama, preferably on stage. But when I'm not working on a gig, which is almost all the time, I compensate by creating heavy scenes in my personal life. And that really sucks.
I'm a real drama queen. The heavier the scene, the more weighty the crown I bear. That's why I wish I were a working actress for at least some of the time, rather than almost never. Maybe that way I could put all that drama to good use. Instead, the bitter, angry character I played around with for a few weeks infected me. I was grinding my teeth in my sleep much more than usual - thank goddess I wear a mouth guard at night or I wouldn't have any enamel left - and walked around hunching my shoulders, clenching my fists and craving a lot of stuff that is bad for my health. The worst part was that I stopped thinking independently for a while. I stopped paying attention. Like, you know, it was all about how I was feeling. I kept making one thoughtless mistake after another. I should have been taking those risks in a safe environment like scene class, not delicate territory like my relationships. My impulsive words and actions got me into trouble with one friend and complicated a usually easy-going relationship with another. Aargh! I was obviously not paying attention to the advice and warning I got from my totem for the fall season - the Vulture. (see October 24 entry) As much as I respect those carrion- eating birds for their necessary place in the fine balance of nature, I want my totem to fly away now. So I've resolved to stop making road-kill out of my personal life.
These thoughts were rolling around in my head this morning as I went for a brisk, chilly walk in my neighbourhood. Nothing like a blast of Arctic air to wipe out the smell of decay. While walking and brooding I had decided to send my Vulture flying south. I was ready to start afresh. I figured with all the karma that's been biting me in the butt lately, surely my debt had been paid. No sooner had I determined I was debt-free when I felt a plop on my pate. It was bird shit. Thank goddess I was wearing a hat.
Prone as I am to signs and omens, I've decided to interpret that messy little incident as good luck. At least that's what my Mum used to tell me. Yeah. I'm going to stick with that. And another good thing - I'm glad that bird wasn't a vulture.
- G.P.