Windows to the Soul

I saw a very sad woman crossing the street the other day. She was facially disfigured, probably from birth, because it looked as if she had been born with little or no chin. I doubt plastic surgery could have helped her much, because it's hard to build something without the raw materials, in this case a jaw bone. But her congenital defect was not the first thing I noticed about her. She had one of the saddest pair of eyes I have ever seen. And it didn't look like fresh pain, or some recent injury to her soul. The grief I saw in her eyes looked as if it had been there all her life. I saw no bitterness or anger, although I suppose she had good reason to feel those things. No. I saw only an age-old struggle for peace.
I wondered if she had ever known a lover or a partner. If that young woman's face is one of those that only a mother can love, then surely her mother must love her fiercely.
The stranger's deep sadness unleashed a degree of compassion in me I didn't know I had. It reminded me of a similar experience I had many years ago when I was still a young woman myself. It was in the middle of winter as I walked down a city street, bundled against the cold. I noticed the figure of a girl approaching me, and a golden retriever walked closely beside her, without a leash. The dog walked so closely that he was leaning on the girl's leg. As the two friends came nearer, I could see the girl was terribly disfigured - an accident of some sort - burns which had left one whole side of her face scarred beyond recognition. Just as I passed those companions who clung so desperately to each other, a couple of adolescent males walked by. They laughed derisively and made some cruel comment which both she and I could plainly hear. Her eyes remained fixed straight ahead, gazing at some point in the distance, but they revealed a deep sorrow she had borne a long time. No doubt she had had many years of practise at avoiding people's stares, and no wonder her dog clung to her so protectively. All at once I realized that the devotion she got from her dog was probably some of the deepest affection she was going to receive her whole life. (That's not necessarily a bad thing. Dogs are the most loyal of animal companions.) Anyway, I fell apart.
I don't know why I'm writing about this at this time. It's a lovely spring day, the sun shines and I have much to be grateful for and enjoy. Maybe I'm writing this just to acknowledge other people's struggle and pain. Maybe it makes me feel better to take time to see into a stranger's soul and feel genuine compassion.
It's easy for me to feel concern for animals. I'm easily moved by the suffering of innocent creatures. But when a perfect stranger of the human kind causes me to feel empathy, I'm almost always surprised, and am momentarily ready to forgive the evil that humanity has inflicted on its own kind, as well as on this beautiful earth.
Having related these sad little stories on this little web of mine hasn't changed or improved the lives of the ladies I write about. It won't help them stop hurting. But it's changed me a little. Remembering them here has made me softer and more yielding; less judgemental. I'm grateful to those young women for stirring my soul. They have moved me to pray for those who hurt in body and spirit. I like to think that they are the kind of people who shall inherit the earth.
Amen and blessed be.
- G.P.

A New World

I'm overdosing on joy. In less than an hour I'm off to places I've never been. I'll be gone for 4 weeks and 3 days and experiencing 2 seasons - early spring and early summer - but I've still managed to pack all I need into one carry-on suitcase. This bodes well. It makes me feel like the seasoned traveller I'm not. I'm putting my money where my mouth is and keeping things minimal. I'll be less burdened by stuff. I'll feel even freer than I would have anyway.
The possible too-much-of-a-good-thing part is because I'm not used to the good fortune that has come to me in an almost in-your-face fashion. I'm still working through the huge, happy changes in my life and am having trouble processing them all. My neural networks are taking a while to download my new program. It's overwhelming and sometimes I freeze up with too much happening too fast. Imagine my confusion when I have to start working with a brand new, updated 2011 version. My default mode tends to be sad or scared. Delete delete delete.
Breathing deeply has never been more enjoyable or more necessary. It's proof that I'm awake and not dreaming. Not that I don't like a good dream now and then, either. But sometimes reality isn't such a bad thing after all. Like now.
So off I go to reinvent myself. That's fun, too. I won't be adding any little threads to my little web while I'm gone, but I'm sure there'll be lots of new information to draw upon when I get back.
That's all for now. I gotta go and start some serious deep breathing, because I've been holding my breath as I've been writing this. That's the overdose part I referred to.
Anyway, ciao for now.
- G.P.

All the World's a Stage

If I'm somewhere nobody knows me, I'm usually the best person I can be. I'm creating myself on a blank page. It's tabula rasa, because no one has any preconceptions of me. They don't know who I am, where I've been, or what I've done. Depending on how I look at the time, I could be just about any character I choose. But no matter where I may be or how I'm dressed, I always go for politesse. It doesn't always work, because there are a lot of A-holes out there, ready to attack and bite and bring out the worst in anyone or anything they encounter. Usually, though, I like anonymity when I'm out in the public forum, so that I can present myself as a courteous, considerate person, and maybe even an interesting one to boot. And no one's the wiser because they've never met me before.

That's why I like to travel. Going someplace new where nobody knows your name is a wonderful platform for playing and performing. But it can get you into trouble, too. I wouldn't tell a perfect stranger in casual conversation, even if it's certain I'll never see them again, that I'm a neurosurgeon, just in case they happen to be a doctor or medical professional of some kind. All of a sudden all the fun goes right down the toilet, and me along with it. But inventing something I can improvise easily is lots of fun, and highly creative. And despite the usual pre-show nerves of performing on stage, playing a scripted character is even more enjoyable, and there's no danger of getting into trouble for lying, although there are other ways of screwing up.

That's why I'm feeling so good these days. I've got a couple of opportunities coming up for lots of playing and pretending, both abroad and in the theatre. Hence my pleasure in going to cafes and pubs alone. It's an easy, accessible, and affordable way to play by myself in public. I usually present myself as successful and wealthy, as long as I'm suitably appointed, of course. It's a nice default position and doesn't require over-the-top play-acting. It's mostly just attitude, my dear, and can be oh so droll. When I'm in that mode I tend not to engage in excessive conversation, especially if it's a place where I'm a regular, because then I'd be forced to embellish the truth. Talking too much to even the service staff might blow my cover as a wealthy, successful writer with a lot of free time on her hands.

Playing a role in real day-to-day life is not necessarily lying. In fact, it can be good for you, depending on what role you choose to play, because a person's path is all about choices. I like to play the sort of person I respect, admire, or even envy. But sometimes, if I'm feeling mischievous enough, I'll play someone completely unlike me, as long as it's harmless, creative fun. Harmless is the operative word here, for both me and the strangers I may meet.

In the near future I'll be able to play my favourite games on a bigger stage than my imagination. It promises to be a great summer. I hope I do well. Goddess knows I've had enough practise.

-G.P.

Master Builder

This is my favourite number.
I dreamt it one night.
- G.P.

Fortuna

Life's been good to me lately. Or maybe I've been good to life. Whatever it is, the wheel of fortune has been turning in my favour. It's not that I think life sucks or anything that. Far from it. But even a few days ago, despite good health and relative good fortune, I was still subject to the wobblies. (I have been most of my life.) Then along comes one more little bit of good news and suddenly the wobblies are gone. If I cry these days, it's because I'm overwhelmed with gratitude and joy. And it's not as if things were all that bad anyway. But like many people in the unsteady business of the arts, I fret over things like the future and my career and how-will-I-survive-when-I'm-85-if-I-live-that-long sort of stuff. Well, nothing's changed in that regard. I haven't won a lottery to rid myself of living -alone-in-old-age worries, but one more happy bit of news has changed my life for the better, at least for a little while. The wobblies are gone and I'm celebrating balance and stability liberally sprinkled with elation and thanks.

That's all for now. I feel good and I just wanted to say so out loud, or in print, or on line, or whatever else people are calling it these days. All I know for sure is I'm going to let me and this little web of mine shine shine shine.

Blessed be.

- G.P.

Verbal Equinox

I'm writing this because it's the first full day of spring. I've mentioned before how I feel about the first day of any period of time - a new year, a new season, a new phase in life, or any other way we designate and parcel out the passage of our days. The vernal equinox is particularly significant to me, because spring is without a doubt my favourite season. I love it from beginning to end, especially the earliest stages of spring, when most people think it's dreary and dull, and are missing the tiny, subtle signs that new life is emerging after months in the dark. It's such an exciting time, and so full of promise. So naturally I want to make sure that this day sets the tone for the entire season.
In order for this day to represent what I want for this spring, and indeed, the rest of my life, I must be creative and productive. So that's why I'm writing this little blurb. I really don't have that much to say, despite the long absence from my little web. I've been busy, very busy, and, I'm grateful to say, in a creative way. But my brief, intense foray into another non-paying gig as an actress is over, and I'm back here to muse awhile.
Where to begin? There's so much happening in the world right now that it makes my head reel and my heart ache. The force of Mother Nature has revealed her most powerful, destructive self in Japan. The gargantuan earthquake and disastrous tsunami have been followed by the all too human threat of nuclear fallout. What hubris is it that makes man (and I do mean "man" in a radical feminist kind of way) to build nuclear power plants on a volatile string of small, geologically unstable islands and think that somehow, some way, Mother Earth won't show us who's really boss around here? And then there's Libya and all that. Aargh!
The Chinese curse - may you live in interesting times - has never seemed to me more appropriate. Lots of violence and war, and lots of natural disasters. I don't know if it's because we're more connected via all those small, hand-held computer thingies that there seems to be more of this "interesting" stuff going on these days, or if the number and size of the revolts that are happening, both natural and man-made, are really increasing. But it sure gets me to thinking about that ridiculous 2012 Mayan end-of-the-world conspiracy theory. (I think it's bunk, and the sort of stuff that's believed by ignorant, paranoid people.) Nevertheless, I can't help going to that place in my mind, simply because of what seems to be the greater frequency and degree of disasters. But enough of that. It's the first day of spring and and I'm making this my verbal equinox by musing here.
Yesterday, at 7:21 pm, the vernal equinox arrived in my part of the world and I toasted my favourite season along with a bunch of interesting, experienced, and beautiful crones; wise-women all. It was a splendid way to herald the arrival of spring. Now I'm spending the day creating a personal template for the whole season. It feels good. I haven't solved any problems or changed anything, but I've expressed myself. And that's what this little web of mine is for.
So, dear reader and faithful follower (that still sounds weird to me, but I like it!) I shall sign off now because I didn't have anything to say when I began, and have even less to say now. I wish you - and especially all those good and innocent people who suffer for whatever reason on this awesome, unfathomable, and unconquerable earth of ours - a gentle, light and gracious spring, full of hope, healing and promise.
Blessed be.
- G.P.

Spring Tonic

I'm making a pathway to springtime in my mind. Everyday I wake up and move my thoughts to brighter, warmer days. Miracles happen every day, every minute, all around the world and right next door. Spring is one of those miracles - spring on the earth and spring in our hearts - in great masses of people rising up, or family and friends saying fond farewells to loved ones. You can't have spring without winter, or life without death, whether it's death of a regime or an individual. Something new, and maybe better, will come from it. So I'm doing my best to make sure that all the big and little deaths and passages in my life lead to a brighter, deeper awareness.
I think I'm going to like the spring of 2011 more than ever, and that's a lot because spring is my favourite season. I've lost and learned more than usual this winter, so this spring promises to be a good one. There are lots of seeds slumbering beneath the snow. I put them there. The way I live my life germinates them. I can hardly wait to watch them grow.
I guess you wonderful people who pass by this way every once in a while have noticed I've got cabin fever. At least I live in a nice cabin. But I'm looking forward to opening the windows, and most of all, stepping outside. I'm a writer and actor and cherish my imagination, so in the meantime I'll find a way to do that with what's available to me right now and where I am, metaphorically speaking. I know I can. That's what I'm doing when I write these words. It's fun. It makes me feel better. Looking at pretty pictures of springtime subjects makes me feel better, too. I hope it does the same for you.
Blessed be,
-G.P.