Oh, NO!

I can't believe how quickly last month seemed to pass. That's what happens when you get really busy, I suppose. First came the School Holiday deluge of visitors making every work day into a struggle for survival (in a good way). Then Little Shop of Horrors opened and ran for three lovely weekends. In the midst of all that I moved for the first time in three years. Wow, do I have a superfluity of junk. But what will be the topic of my next blog? Say, it isn't writing about figuring out what to write about, is it?!

Well, current circumstances call for me to offer some sort of proof of my worth. I'm OK at meeting deadlines, generally. It seems to depend a bit on who set them, though. I connect intellectually with kids under five years of age pretty effectively, usually. I realise that last claim wouldn't carry much weight in some professions. I find it useful in my current one, though. I care about my teammates and show that by giving them variety in their schedule (when it's up to me) and by trying to take care of myself so that I can stay healthy, especially when we're short-staffed.

In other news, I have been really blessed to have found some incredibly positive friends who have increased the joy in my life at least ten-fold. Things are looking up.

(By the way, I chose these pictures because they have clocks in them and are set in NYC and Wellington -- two great cities in which I have spent some quality time.)

A New Low

I struggle to think of something that is right in my life
I looked back at old blogs for some inspiration and found the same troubled patterns
Sometimes poetry can pull me up
I maintain a tense-jawed hope that this could turn into one of those times
Off I go to search for some Billy Collins stuff

He said this (among other things):
"As I'm writing, I'm always reader conscious. I have one reader in mind, someone who is in the room with me, and who I'm talking to, and I want to make sure I don't talk too fast, or too glibly. Usually I try to create a hospitable tone at the beginning of a poem. Stepping from the title to the first lines is like stepping into a canoe. A lot of things can go wrong."

I am very much a dancer

Rationally, I know that, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Thank you, Eleanor Roosevelt, for pointing that out.
Irrationally, I find I am hypersensitive to the insults of others. Why are people so cruel? Do they not realise how others perceive their attitude?
I have loved dancing ever since I can remember, really. I know I found and played all the old, full-size record albums my parents had. Bless them for having A Chorus Line and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass! I wonder what sort of choreography I did to those. I know I got into ballet class and progressed enough to make it to pointe shoes. Tap was a blast, too. Mother and I used to practice with a record we'd speed up to challenge ourselves. I even took clogging. That was cool.
When I got to high school I spent three of my four years at a performing arts magnet. I'd have to say that the jazz (dance) teacher was one of the most inspiring teachers I have ever met: Gary Harrison. I took as many of his classes as I could afford. I also loved taking from the ballet teacher at Terpsichore: Patsy Bromley. She had danced with Gelsey Kirkland and gave us a lot of useful advice.
Fresh out of high school I thought perhaps a life in the performing arts wasn't something I needed to do. I soon discovered that it was. I did a dance audition and got a job at Walt Disney World. I spent roughly six years working at the parks -- a couple of different Disney ones and Universal Studios.
Yes, it's true that an inability to pick up choreography and style quickly enough got me cut from rehearsals for a show one year. Other than that though, I'd say a fair percentage of my time at the parks was spent as a professional dancer. I had two amazing touring opportunities with The Disney Fair and DisneyFest, both dancing. I've met some of my dearest friends dancing on ships, too.
One of my favorite performing memories is of getting to do 48 performances of Seven Brides fror Seven Brothers as Dorcas (also dancing). My brother partner and I made our crucifix lift 47 times.
Since then I have danced in the opening ceremony for the Rugby Sevens for five years, and the WorldofWearableArt awards show for four years, Guys and Dolls (as Miss Adelaide), Cats (as Jellylorum), and Cabaret (as Texas). I have choreographed and taught a few numbers that the Musical Stars kids performed last year.
I may not be good enough to get into most professional companies, of whatever style; but I am, most definitely, a dancer.

If I Could Turn Back Time

How faint the tune. I didn't say it was nice; but everybody does it! Every day I'm learning: all my life I've only been pretending. Fools who have no money spend it, get in debt, then try to end it. You bow, and taking off your hat, address him in this form, "O Cat." I have a terrible feeling I've said a dumb thing. Marry the man today and train him subsequently. And all at once I held the earth and sky. People 'round here think I'm crazy; but I don't care. It's time to create, time to grow if you feel right. You can find the joy of innocence, again. Somewhere a glory awaits unseen. Tomorrow belongs to me. I swear I'll do my wifely job; just sit at home -- become a slob! Maybe it's me, but it all seems like lifetimes ago. So what do I say to these faces that I used to know?














He's nothin' but an albatross, no great loss -- double crosser.















We're not keeping score; what's one, more or less? Now there's nobody left, doin' what they oughta. I've got pride; I'm takin' it for a ride. We had some guts and some luck. Every little thing that you write just conceivably might be a thought that you capture while coppin' a wink. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. When you pinch me try to pinch me where there's fat.
Took a whole lotta tryin', just to get up that hill.










Look out, here comes Audrey II! There's somethin' wrong with the world today; I don't know what it is. Something's wrong with our eyes. I'm gonna have some fun, that's what I'm gonna do. Oh, it's fun to hunt and shoot a gun or to catch a rabbit on the run, but you'll find it's twice as sportin', goin' courtin'! Well I'm fairly certain, at one time or other, great thinkers all feel this way. You don't have to have a professor's dome not to go for the honey when the bee's at home.

Ah, lyrics. How I love them.

Swamped

Where has the time gone? Since my last blog post I have become a school group tour guide for the A Day in Pompeii exhibition, sometimes leading as many as three hour-long tours a day. I never thought I had "a mind for history," but I have become obsessed with trying to learn all I can about the archaeological and volcanological aspects of this place from AD 79 to present.

The International Arts Festival was here in town from the last part of February until the 21st of March. I went a bit crazy attempting to see as many shows as I could.

In the past four days I have been to four movies. Oh dear. I think I am beginning to sense the blogging obstacle -- too much input and not enough output.

I caught a glimpse of the extent of my fatigue and confusion today when my lovely workmates tried to surprise me with a shared breakfast to celebrate everyone's hard work and great attitude through the short-staffed times of the past month and a half. I couldn't figure out how to react in a mature and grateful way. I immediately jumped on all the frustrating uncertainties of the situation. I quickly found a bunch of reasons to feel stressed out.

I'm afraid that I might get sick if I let down my energetic "guarded" sense of being needed (like fainting after the intense part of giving blood). Fortunately I get to sleep in for a bit tomorrow. I hope the clay pot activity I'm supposed to run on Saturday doesn't land me in the hospital. I'll try to focus on the time-and-a-half and a day in lieu I could get if I can make it in on Friday.

In the meantime I would like to reflect on one of the Arts Festival shows I enjoyed most: a physical theatre production by the Red Leap Theatre Company called The Arrival. I got quite a rude shock from someone I know who couldn't find a nice thing to say about it. Nonetheless, I thought the TEN people who created the stage magic I observed did an extraordinary job of illustrating a culture in which a person who is used to "Western" culture would be completely shocked for a while. I would have thought that nearly anybody could relate to feeling out of their element, at least temporarily, or loving and valuing a pet. Amazing storytelling, I reckon.

Perspective Inertia

I feel stuck, caught in between wanting to self-actualize (being greedy and ambitious, perhaps) and wanting to reach out to any one of the millions of people who could use my help, somehow. The easiest excuse is obvious: where would what I have to offer be of the most benefit? The answer is most likely: just start somewhere and ask/offer!

It's that old inferiority/superiority paradox. Who am I to think that I deserve opportunity? At the same time the question, "Is it unfair to deny the world the creativity and/or compassion I possess?" pops up and reminds me of this...

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

--Written/adapted by Marianne Williamson from A Return to Love and used by Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech

I love that passage! What an exciting challenge and responsibility. Of course, people are allowed to be good at more than one thing. I feel like I've run out of time for some things and don't know where to begin practicing others. So, I keep skating. As my swivel skiing teacher used to say (more or less), "You take a really long time to learn new things, but you don't compromise your technique along the way." Maybe I have "big patience" (like beautiful Tzvetanka of the Bulgarian Women's Choir at UCLA) in some areas.

I definitely feel like more of a "life's a journey, not a destination" kind of person. I guess having certain destinations in mind throughout my journey wouldn't be a bad idea, though. That way, maybe I can avoid looking back and saying,


"I always wanted to be somebody, but now I realize I should have been more specific."
-- Lily Tomlin













Another inspiring quote I love has been attributed to Goethe and traced (by a diligent researcher for the Goethe Society of North America) to John Anster in a "very free translation" of (Goethe's) Faust from 1835. The lines in question are spoken by the "Manager" in the "Prelude at the Theatre":

Then indecision brings its own delays,

And days are lost lamenting over lost days.

Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute;

What you can do, or dream you can do, begin it;

Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

I can state with certainty that I have had many exhilarating adventures on my journey, so far. I cannot state with certainty that I wouldn't have had any fun had my focus been on earning an impressive salary or finding an impressive husband instead of working in creative environments (as it has been). I can only wonder and appreciate the freedom I possess.

When I consider people in other countries (and from other cultures) whose family makes most of the "big" decisions in their life, such as who to marry (and that they will marry) or what vocation they will have, I gain a new appreciation for Dad's old advice about privileges (such as freedom) coming with responsibilities. So, I feel charged with needing to try something (anything?!); and I feel slightly less intimidated about doing that here in New Zealand than I did in New York City. After all, as the characters from Avenue Q wisely remind Princeton, "There is life outside your apartment; but you've got to open the door!"

Customer Service

"So THAT'S why you got your degree -- to play with puzzles all day and clean them up!"

And I said nothing at all in response. Here are a few things I felt like saying, though:













"Hi, there. How are you? I'd like to introduce you to a close personal friend of mine I can tell you haven't met. He's called Tact. Yes, do us all a favor and, please, get to know him. Actually, have you and I even met? Oh, that's right. We HAVEN'T. So, what in the world gave you the idea that I'd like to hear your opinion about how I choose to spend my time and earn an honest living? Wait, I know this one: your lack of respect and consideration for humanity! I don't recall showing up at your place of work and harassing you about your career. Are you even employed? I wonder why you got your degree(s), if you have any."


Fortunately, I have had "classical" training in the ways of customer service, through Disney, FAO Schwarz and other cool companies. I find the four "Fish" principles helpful in trying situations. They are: Play, Make Their Day, Be There, and Choose Your Attitude. I'd guess that 'Choose Your Attitude' is the one I think about the most. The ideas of empowerment and not having to be a victim of circumstances resonate with me.

Like George McFly, I'd love to get better at confrontations and develop the confidence to think on my feet. How great would I feel speaking up in a friendly, perhaps ambiguous, way when faced with folks like the one quoted above. In this particular situation I thought a non-defensive answer could have been, "There are certain aspects of this job that are more difficult than others -- like when we host inconsiderate visitors, for example." If pressed for more clarity I could have added that not all visitors put things back as neatly as they find them, perhaps due to carelessness or a lack of respect for others who will use the space after they have gone.

I consider myself very lucky to go many, many days without meeting people whose attitude I consider extremely unreasonable. Today I felt humbled by the patient and respectful people I encountered. I love watching what I believe to be healthy family dynamics. Sometimes lousy weather brings out the best in people -- or maybe just the best people!