Comedia Dell'arte/Honey Don't

Yesterday, the day that started so gloomy turned out fine - had to kick start it with the cozy fire and cooking squash. Sheer force of will - that fire just didn't want to start as if it were saying, "What the hell? It's August!" It died several times despite copious amounts of copy paper, newspaper, fatwood (do you know what that is? - it's little sticks of kindling from the deep South from trees that are naturally impregnated with oil - it just combusts - thinking they must not allow camping in fatwood forests!), pine cones, etc.  But start it did, finally, and it cheered me. Shay, who had left early at six, came home to a warm and inviting house, his job cancelled due to the rain.

He and I are settling into a nice way of being with each other. Just the right amount of talking and doing for each other without being suffocating. Recently, I introduced him to someone as "my Honey-do", and he grumbled and said, "Honey is fine. Lose the 'do'!" He is a very manly twenty-one year old who doesn't take shit from anyone - including me! Yesterday, he decided it was time for me to tackle the upstairs hall where there are long, bookshelves overflowing with stuff. With my approval, he carted down all the books for me to sort through, with the thought that I'll get rid of 9/10ths of them. Between he and I, we are making this house into a Zen home.

Today I'm thinking about how we have to see the happiness that's right in front of us with the people who populate our lives - the sometimes improbable cast of characters that we're sharing the stage with. And if we were omnipotent directors, pulling all the strings, we may not have cast our play with the troupe that's before us. So imagine that you're a director that's been called in after the casting's been decided - these people before you are what you have to work with. The mother you have, your siblings who infuriate, the father who  sucks happiness out of any room he walks into, the friends who are off-again, on-again, your children who fill you with pride but who don't see you as a person, coworkers, bosses, neighbors, even the animals. The cast.

So here you are in the middle of all this - trying to cobble together something good with what you have to work with. Time is wasting and there isn't any Lawrence Olivier in the wings who will swoop in and be the star of your show, eclipsing the dysfunction. What you've got is what you have to work with. Thinking there are two ways to go. You either throw up your hands and declare the situation impossible, have incessant complaints with the actors you've been sent, decide it's an impossible situation - that not even Mike Nichols could create a masterpiece with such a weird cast of characters - or - you could take a deep breath and decide to make something a la Comedia dell'Arte - something weird and absurd and touching and quirky and magical. Something worthy.

And what makes it all possible, I think, is perspective and determination. As the director and architect of your life, you have to have humor and distance enough to shape events in the most human ways - use that zoom out lens to experience the moment in a broader context, hover over the stage like an angel caregiver, maybe putting two antagonists in a situation that require they each surrender a bit to each other to gain greater understanding, maybe matchmaking two lovers who are a perfect match but who haven't yet discovered that fact. Yes, tinkering and orchestrating, maybe even manipulating but in the most well-intentioned way. Seeing the possibilities and nudging them into being.

And you don't get to be a bystander. You're not only the director but the star in your own play. For the magic to happen you have to come down from the director's chair, disrobe and stand naked in front of your co-actors.They will be stunned into silence, look to you for an explanation, be repelled but attracted. That moment is your opportunity to create something new. To say, "Let's try something different."  

Challenge today is thinking about what it means to be a leader (a director). If you find you are just one of the confused actors milling about the stage, looking for direction, sure the cast assembled is a motley crew of misfits, then your life will never make any sense, never take artistic form. If on the other hand, you find your own core, what you stand for, what you love - I'm thinking it will translate into a life magnum opus, that by being authentic, your "play" (your vision) will help to bring about the very best for everyone in your troupe.

These days, I'm taking a look around at the raw materials of my life, sometimes shaking my head bemusedly at the hand I've been dealt and then trying to figure out how I can architect something truly unique and wonderful from what's been given me - not pie in the sky or "if I only had...." - but the stuff and people who are right in front of me, flaws and all. Weird as it may be.

Peace.

Sarah