It sort of feels like I’ve crawled under a rock for the past two weeks, but the truth is, I was on a rock - well an island that was made mostly of rock, off the coast of Maine. What a fantastic week it was. I left the computer home, didn’t get cell reception and decided it was time to become one with nature. I saw snakes, seals and dolphins. I took hikes, read, caught up with friends, drank, slept, didn’t sleep, played games and thought little about from whence I came. Getting back at the moment when Saturday became Sunday (that would be my poetic way of saying midnight) I thought I would slowly become one again with the city, take a day to relax back into the big city life thing, only things don’t often go as planned. And right now lots of mushy goodness is happening way too fast for me to slowly merge back in with my former self. And while I know this is a good thing, sometimes I forget to handle it as such.
I started to talk with my therapist about this yesterday. As an aside, I find it odd and rather fascinating that it’s cool to go to therapy, like it’s totally the in thing to do. If you don’t have a therapist, then you have a problem. Okay, not always, but it’s so interesting how therapy is this thing lots of people are proud of. Maybe it’s because you’re admitting that you’re working on yourself, and you acknowledge that you have faults, and that you’re a bigger person than someone who doesn’t admit that they’re not perfect. Or maybe you’re not a bigger person, and maybe someone who doesn’t go to therapy still knows they have faults too, but maybe they know how to handle them without help. Even if you’re not in therapy now, if you’ve ever been, then you know that it’s emotionally beneficial to work on yourself with the help of an objective, total stranger.
Whatever.
So yesterday I tell my therapist about all these great things going on, like:
1. I get to see the completed copy of my book, before its officially “final”, sometime this week - and it’s going to look soooo good (at least that’s my projection/prediction). Did I mention that Betty Dodson wrote my foreword?
2. My first movie is in its final approval stages, and it is F-U-N!!!
3. I’m making a guest appearance this Saturday night in an off Broadway show called My First Time (it’s at the New World Stages on W. 50th St.). It’s name basically says it all, and after the show I’ll be on stage dishing the dirt about my first time. Sadly, it’s not all that funny, but I’ll try to find a way to spice it up. If you wanna see me, but pretend you don’t know I’m there cause it’s sort of a surprise, then you can buy tickets, and what not, at the My First Time website. If you don’t want to see me, or can’t make it on Saturday night, you can still see the show without me.
4. I’m about to become a sexpert for a soon-to-be-launched show on Cherry TV.
And, in talking to my therapist, I realized that while I need to enjoy all these moments, I find myself clinging to the anxiety, and not the joy, of having the experience. It’s the space I’m used to going to. The dread, the negativity, the scarcity of it all. Of getting it all done. So I’m going to start yoga, and even find my own form of meditation, so that I can really enjoy the ride, and not just live through it. That would be such a shame. This is, after all, my life. My dream. My time.
Posted by jamye