Where I left off…

I would say that I am going to throw up tonight while I am on stage in front of 400+ people, but then it wouldn’t be improv.

For the most part I stew think about all the opportunities I missed, and how many times I held myself back because of what other people said or did to me.  My sense of self value was dependent on how others perceived me.  It still is.  I struggle with that always. 

 

Last week I saw my husband on stage, he was playing bagpipes (of course).  It was a high school production of Brigadoon, and they were paying him very well for his musical talents.  I was (am) very proud of the fact that he has such a great gift for the stage, and that it is lucrative for him (us).

 

As I sat in the audience I remembered my own feeble attempt at theater when I was a senior in high school and tears streamed down my face releasing a deep seeded hurt of the past that had welled up copious amounts of regret like a tidal wave and washed over me. 

 

I wanted so badly to be in the play (I can’t remember what it was titled for the life of me).  I remember auditioning for the lead female part, as well as a supporting part.  I knew I did well.  I knew it. 

 

However, by a fluke thought, I decided to grab my notebook out from under the director’s pile of notes and books.  She (who was also my teacher) thought that I was snooping through her audition notes trying to find out if I landed a role.  Of course she didn’t believe me when I tried to explain, and proceeded to yell at me in front of the entire auditioning cast.  I ended up doing make up for the girl who did get the lead part. 

 

I felt cheated. And a part of me, a subconsciously and consciously decided that theater people were priggish and I wouldn’t have anything to do with them ever again.  I had performance experience in the past, and truly enjoyed it, but that moment in time tarnished my dream, and so I went a completely different direction…until I met my second husband.

 

He is a musician and an actor.  He pursued the dream, got a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts and studied theater.  A majority of his friends and acquaintances are performers of one degree or another.  I found myself faced with my prejudice against theater on a daily basis.  Needless to say it hasn’t been easy.

 

Interestingly enough, we met almost 10 years ago at an audition…my first one since that fateful day in 1989.   So much has changed since then.  I still struggle with my self worth.

 

At times I long to go back to that theater in high school and forget about my notebook…lose it.  I certainly don’t have that notebook now.  Maybe I would have pursued my heart rather than practicality. Unfortunately, I am too scattered in my interests, and have never really felt driven to pursue anything specific.  In my minds eye I am a dancer, a singer, an actress, a D.J., a radio show host, a spy, a government agent, an author…but in real life I have never felt inclined to grab the brass ring.

 

However, today as I rode the bus to my practical job and listened to my favorite music on my iPod gadget, I realized that I like what I like, and maybe that is good enough.  I guess I don’t have to change the world.  I don’t have to make a grand contribution or have a driving goal, or a talent that carries me to greatness.

 

Maybe three human beings is a good enough contribution. Maybe just enjoying my music (even though I can’t sing worth a dime), goofing off on stage (even though I’ll never be a real actress), and dancing in my living room with my kids (though I probably will never dance professionally) is as good as it will get, and maybe that is just fine.   

 

I don’t get those moments of lucidity often, and tomorrow I may angst over my lost childhood, jumbled teenage years, and frivolous flighty selfish twenties. I would like to hold on to this thought of contentment for a little while longer before all of that settles in again.  At that is more than just fine. 

God does not condone divorce for the simple fact that having to deal with an ex spouse and a current spouse could be cause enough to commit murder.

Banana bread cake with cream cheese frosting, topped with bananas, strawberries, and raw sugar ~ lovingly created by the husband