Scrambled Eggs opens in NYC!

I have worked on this play alone, with a dramaturg, and with my writing partner, for many years.  Often I would say to myself, "Why are you still working on this?  It's a waste of time."  But something compelled me to go back to it and to keep re-working it and refining it.  And the joy of the writing always motivated me to keep at it.  And the desire to entertain and also be of service also inspired me.

I never really thought that someday it would open in a theater in New York, with an excellent cast and director and that people would come and see it.  I never really imagined that there would be an audience for this play and that people in New York, one of the toughest cities in the world to succeed in theater, would actually laugh and really enjoy it.

This entire experience has been (so far, at least) a labor of love, community, creativity and joy.  There have been difficult times, creative arguments, some scary moments, lots of stress, but overall, so far it's been a dream come true and everyone from the assistant stage manager to the director is enthralled with this production.  I think the fact that our director has set a tone of generosity and respect for everyone, has given us all a freedom to be part of the creative process, enjoy every moment, to stay in the now, to take each day as it comes.

I decided to look at one of my Pema Chodron's books this morning and opened to this passage:

"We never know

When we think that something is going to bring us pleasure, we don't know what's really going to happen.  When we think something is going to give us misery, we don't know.  Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all.  We try to do what we think is going to help. But we don't know.  We never know if we're going to fall flat or sit up tall.  When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story.  It may be just the beginning of a great adventure.  

I read somewhere about a family who had only one son.  They were very poor.  This son was extremely precious to them, and the only thing that mattered to his family was that he bring them some financial support and prestige.  Then he was thrown from a horse and crippled.  It seemed like the end of their lives.  Two weeks after that, the army came into the village and took away all the healthy, strong men to fight in the war, and this young man was allowed to stay behind and take care of his family.  

Life is like that.  We don't know anything.  We call something bad, we call it good.  But really we just don't know.  

Learning to live with not knowing has been a challenge for me, but I'm definitely getting better at it.  Like so many things in life, it is a practice and you just continue working on it, not until you get it right or perfectly, but until it becomes second nature.  And I don't know if that ever really happens, because even someone as enlightened as Pema Chodron says she struggles with day to day challenges.

Just being alive is a gift though.  It's almost May, the trees are filled with gorgeous blossoms.  And I look forward to tomorrow night, to being back in the theater with my wonderful creative family.

Row row row your boat

I was just resting, getting ready for a small party tonight at our loft, trying to get rid of a mild headache.  It suddenly felt like I was floating on a lovely stream and the words "row row row your boat" came to my mind.  I could feel the warmth of a summer day, even though it's twenty-nine degrees outside and snowing lightly.  This time of year is always a challenge for me and maybe that's one of the reasons I like living in NY.  There's three months of weather that I don't particularly enjoy, that require a very serious practice of staying in the moment and not succumbing to complete winter despair.  Well, actually, I usually do succumb to it, but then I bounce back eventually and by May I am positively giddy with pride that I didn't beat anyone up or have a nervous breakdown.  

Actually, if I did beat someone up or have a nervous breakdown, it would make this blog far more interesting, so perhaps I'll try that this winter.  I mean, rowing your boat down the stream is pretty dull, when you think about it.  I need a baseball bat and some boxing gloves, and maybe I'll just start cursing at strangers on the street.  

I'll keep you posted.