Endings

I just heard some news recently. Something has now ended. Officially.

I mean, it's been over for a long time, but it's the real deal now. Yup. No going back. Finito. Sayanara. The end. Ends are hard. I'm not good with ends. I like middles and beginnings. I'm a middle and beginning type of girl. Endings? ...not so much.

I found this quote recently and like it:

“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.”      ― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

A good improv scene starts in the middle. A good book does the same. Something is already happening. The stakes are high. We are merely thrown into that world---simply or suddenly. And then there's the beginning. Never underestimate a good beginning! It sets the stage. It opens the door. It lures you in.

But endings? Don't like 'em. It's probably why I sort of live in 4 places right now. I don't like things to end. I like doors and possibilities to stay open (sometimes to my detriment.) But things do end, closing the door and any possibility of a new start. And ironically, the only thing left to do is start again. Fresh. Braver, stronger, smarter and older.

Where are you hanging on to things that are long over? Is it time to start a new scene?

Just say it

So here's a little something something.

Lately, I've been hanging on to thoughts that aren't necessarily the truth. I've been lingering in drama and difficulty. I haven't been declaring and living into what could be and maybe what already is. Aaaand it's been weighing me down.

So today, I was walking down the street from missing my yoga class for being two minutes late (2 minutes!! ---come on studio!) and so instead having just had a lovely, heart opening phone conversation with my dear friend Patrick, when I had an epiphany: DECLARE IT, and it will be! Say what you want to be.

In improv scenes, you declare your truth and the scene follows. You will live into what you say out loud. I know this. I teach this. I think I just forgot it or didn't recognize it missing in my own life. (Darned improv philosophy always sneaking up on me!) So I said it: out loud, right there on Carmen Avenue with the cold lakefront wind blowing straight onto my face. I declared a truth, the truth I wanted, the truth that very easily could be the actual truth. (Who's to say it's not!?) And then I smiled. I felt better. Those things are now true. I said them and now I will live them. It's that easy. I feel lighter.

Say what you need to say today. Declare your truth. Then your life and the universe will support it. For realz.

Little Patio of Horrors

My mom has a hanging plant on her back patio that is a creeper. It is always looking for something to climb and creep on. I sit at the table out there and work on my laptop quite a bit under the plant. Sometimes the plant starts to climb on me. I feel it moving closer, until a piece of it is in my hair. Eventually, another piece rubs against my arm, or my ear. It's creepy! I move. But it follows. For reals! I feel like Audrey in "Little Shop of Horrors!" It's like the plant is alive or something, for cry-i!

This plant is clearly seeking connection. It needs it. I get it. We humans also seek connection. I need connection. You need connection. We all scream for ice cream. We seek connection through touch, eye contact, breath, shared interests. We are always seeking connection. It's how we are productive and happy. Like the plant, we thrive on connection and need connection to thrive.

The skills of improv teach us to be present, connect, breathe together, to live a shared, undefined, constantly evolving moment together, discovering the path only as our foot lands on it ---to connect! That's cool...and scary. And it takes bravery --- kinda like sitting under this plant!

So keep seeking opportunities. Keep being open to what is being presented to you in this moment. Keep being willing to be affected and informed and moved. Keep reaching out.

...and if you don't hear from me for a while, check my mom's patio. I'm probably "connecting", i.e. being held hostage by a plant.

FEED ME!