truthFULL: connected

Tucked up in bed on Sunday morning, cup of tea in hand, I found myself revisiting this.

Which led me to this:

"I am aware that my idea of "being an adult," is skewed. I am aware that I will never, probably ever, be comfortable with making plans two weeks in advance and not being tempted to break them. Or, having to answer to authority. Or remember which bills I paid on time. Or having a well balanced fridge. Lucky Charms? Modelo? Broccoli? Marinara? Almond butter? Done. I am aware that I will have to work around my "imperfections," but that it also makes me keen on improvising and that, just like Truth I rise under pressure.

I am aware that I could use some work in the laundry department. That my friends are better at sending gift baskets than I'll ever be. That I go cross eyed when you talk about numbers and that I fear my relationship with money is a long road.... but one I don't want to admit, out of fear that it will keep me from embracing it. I am aware that at the core of everything, I'm actually a performer. That I'm happiest on stage. Or in front of a camera. Or a microphone. That I'm afraid I'll be chained to a chair forever and ever while my Gypsy implodes. I'm aware that I am fearful of imploding.

That I kind of have a temper. That I'm terrible at not getting my way. (that I usually find a way to get ' my way' and that, that particular conquest drives to the edge of insanity.)

That my two things are; love and significance. That when I'm in love my need to feel "significant" lessens, to the point of extinction. That there's a reason one was taken from me. That these two things need to find a way to live beside one another, eventually. I am aware that I like to fucking GO THERE, let's get our hands dirty. Bullshit meter, on high.

That sometimes self awareness is a rabbit hole. Which makes me weirdly insecure. That I want to lift people's consciousness, but that starts with lifting my own first. Through art. Through words. Through action."

I immediately think how odd it is that she wrote about me since, you know, we don't know each other. Then, how odd that we must be so similar. And then, the truth: we are truly all connected, all going through the same things in different ways with different words at different points in our lives. We are all learning what makes us tick, what beautiful imperfections live within us and how those things affect and change the world around us. We are balancing out our relationship with ourselves with our relationships with others and crossing all of our fingers, twisting them up in hopes that it will all somehow work out to be so that we can have both kinds because, oh my god, we need both.

People often ask me why I read (and write) blogs, what's the point of reading about someone's life who you don't even know? I read blogs because somewhere across the country, there is a girl about my age, pursuing about the same things as I am, going through about the same things I am and sometimes there is nothing more divine then knowing you are not alone. I read them because my brain works in strange, deep, intense, artsy, "different" ways and sometimes I need to be reminded that there are people like me and that we all have moments of every kind and some people are brave enough to put them out for the world to see. I guess, also, because it reminds me that it's okay to put all of my moments out for the world to see.

I get thoughts from people about my blog more than I anticipate (mainly because I figure no one except the same 10 people are reading it). Lots of beautiful thoughts from friends and strangers alike, but there is a common theme to these messages where they say "they could never" blog because they aren't brave enough or interesting enough and I guess the whole point of this post is to remind you that we are all connected, we are all the same and you are absolutely brave and interesting enough to do whatever the fuck you want. Whenever you want, however you want (um, you know, provided it's not like horrific crimes or something). You are important enough already, exactly as you are, to live the life you want to be living. Whether you choose to write about it for all of the internets to see, well, that's up to you, but either way don't count yourself out when you're counting up the people who inspire you. Those people are connected to you, they are exactly like you. I am exactly like you. And imagine the glory that could come with that thinking: that none of us are better than the other, but instead, all equally beautiful, messy, growing, learning, living, deserving creatures.

truthFULL: the business of being happy

i make a mental note to call the union soon to find out if i can change my name. then i judge myself for that because if i'm not doing theatre anymore, why do i need to check in with the theatre union? then i judge myself for judging myself, quickly become distracted by something else and forget about it all until i remember again.

i analyze what each choice would mean, just as i analyzed what the first one meant, until i am exhausted and don't make any choices at all.
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"i think it would be okay to fully quit if i knew i was done with it. i don't think there's anything wrong with changing careers if you know you've gotten everything you can out of them. but i can't figure it out yet. i can't tell if it's just because i'm scared or if i'm really just done with that part of my life."

she was silent for a few minutes because she already knew the answer. we both did.

"well.. i guess the only way to really know is to try, right?"
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sometimes i miss performing like a gust of wind has smacked me in the face, like someone has sucker-punched me in the gut, like ice cold water has just touched the tips of my toes in that way that jolts your body making it so you want it to stop and go on all at the same time.

i indulge myself in a moment of nostalgia: the way the microphone tape felt, the way the numbers are printed along the front of stages, that sound of the hands coming together with such force and might that you can actually feel the energy of the movement.

i indulge myself in a moment of fantasy: the way the clapper sounds, the senseless hours kept of saying the same lines over and over until you feel like a crazy person, being clear across the country, stuck in traffic and late to set.

ice water on toes. too much.
__

he had come out of the apartment across the way and said hello to the wriggling dog attached to the other end of the leash.

"you walk him?"


"yeah! i love this little guy. i stay with him all day."


"that's nice. like his babysitter. so, you are a dog walker?"


"no, i'm an actress. this is just supplemental."

i stepped in the elevator, startled at how naturally i had claimed the title. "i'm an actress". bold, loudly and outside of my mind.
__

"you know what i think it is? i didn't really use to like myself, you know? so i used acting as a crutch, a way to avoid myself by playing other people. but now.. well, now i think i'm awesome so it's kind of more a matter of figuring out what being an actor means now. if it's not to run from myself anymore."

"makes sense."

it was quiet again for awhile before i spoke again, finalizing this part of the conversation:

"i'm not so much in the business of show as i am in the business of being happy. my goal right now is to do whatever brings me joy. when it's time, i'll act again. it's just a matter of when it's supposed to happen."

truthFULL: tuesday's thoughts

i was en route to the movies. feeling like a six year old is a perfectly wonderful excuse to go see the latest children's movie. so, Brave it was. i was a few blocks away when a gust of wind picked up out of nowhere, wrapping up and around me before moving on. goosebumps settled on my skin from head to toe and in that moment, with the wind as it's messenger, the entire Universe quietly spoke a truth into my ears:

everything is going to be fine.


i was running along the river. feeling like it's time to go for a run is a perfectly wonderful way to make the decision to start running again. i was a good while into it when i felt the energy of another being running with me. all of the tension in my body released and a wide smile spread across my face. i felt like i was floating and with a resounding reassurance, it was as though i was being told:

everything is going to be fine.

there is magick everywhere if you pay close enough attention. there are messages being sent to you all the time. put your ears away and listen with your soul, with your being. close your eyes and see with your heart. give your mouth a rest and speak with your body, with your actions. let your brain settle and make choices from your gut. i am telling this to you, but mostly i am telling this to me:

everything is going to be fine.

truthFULL: tuesday's thoughts

class had just started when a warm-up was announced. i settled back in my seat as the actors around me headed up to the front of the room. then his voice rang out:

"everyone here to audit class can participate in the warm-up, too!"


my heart fell into my stomach as i felt myself stand up and walk over to join the circle. the warm-up was explained: a particular combination of sound and movement. it went fast, woosh woosh woosh, out, out, out. i found myself in the final few participants. what's more, i found myself laughing. enjoying it. since there were so few people left when i made my next move, everyone else could hear what i had heard all along: the meek, barely audible sound that came out of my mouth.

it was as though we were instructed to be lions, to roar with all our might, and what i came up with was the squeak of a tiny mouse.

i laughed as i sat back down, having enjoyed those few minutes of participating in an acting class. not being able to use my voice was nothing new to me and yet, in the safe/terrifying environment that is an acting class, suddenly it hit me like a punch to my gut: i wanted my voice back.
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i was speeding down a back road toward my high school. the windows were rolled down to let the wind whip into my little red car, drowning out everything except the soundtrack blaring through my speakers: Wicked. Defying Gravity, to be specific. i was nearing the run of the last show of my high school career and had so many mixed feelings about it that i chose to just sing louder and louder the more i felt. i had reached the point where i was done with the place i'd spent the last four years. actually, i'd hit it months ago, and endured the last rounds of 'best friends forever' talk with an understanding that i was already so far gone.

she had advised us to watch our voices, not scream or sing too much outside of the show. after all, 'joseph & the amazing technicolor dreamcoat' is no easy beast to tame. i played the female lead, the Narrator of the show, and sang almost the entire three hours. any sane person would have absolutely watched their voice. instead, i belted my lungs out every time i got in my car and driving to the show was no exception.
__

we sat on the couch, my knees tucked under me as i told him about the class and the lack of sound from my mouth:

"it's almost like.. i spent these past few years... gutting myself, ripping it all up and out of me and then slowly putting it back together, you know? and now, like, i'm there, right? i've got it all together-- well, no, i mean, no one ever totally has it all together but, like, i'm there.."

i was rambling. naturally, finding my words was proving to be difficult. he stayed with me, his eyes following mine as i danced them up to the ceiling, over to the wall, floating around, searching for what i was trying to say.

"it's like i've worked on everything up to here," i set the side of my hand against the line of my collar bone, "and now i've reached this place and i get to work on this next thing."
__

she walked over to me with a big smile on her face, "you do know that i drove by you on the way here and totally heard you singing 'defying gravity', right?"

i smiled and started laughing. of course i'd been caught. she laughed, too.
"be careful, okay? can't have you losing that voice."
"i will be, i promise."
__


it was a couple of days later, as i drove to the beach, with the radio blaring and the windows down, when i felt the truth rush into the car with the wind: it isn't something that can be lost. simple as that.

and with the ease of a single breath, i opened my mouth and sang as loud and as full as i could, letting the sound fill up the car and ring in my ears.

there's something to be said for being introspective. for being a person who can sit still and be alone with their own thoughts, with themselves. the kind of person who lets their truths drip out slowly, one by one, until it's all revealed. and yet, there is something undeniably grand about hollering as loud as you can. barreling into a room, full speed ahead. laughing from the place in your gut that you don't venture into very often.

and bravely, loudly, wildly, freely singing at the top of your lungs.

truthFULL: thursday's thoughts

my hair is wet. it's been brushed up into a ponytail but still, it's wet. i'm five, maybe six years old and sitting on the edge of a hotel room bed. my skin is tan from the sun and i'm impatient, ready to go wherever we're going next. i'm certain i'd rather be back on the beach.

the air conditioner in the room is on. it's the kind we don't have at home, the one that is situation right below the window with buttons to press. the combination of wet hair and the cold air cools me down until i'm relaxed. calm.

later, when we get back from dinner, i will find a book hidden in my bed. a magical fairy follows us around and leaves a new book every night of our vacation. the humming of the air conditioner plays it's melody as i begin to read and the comfort of all of this settles in around me.
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my hair is wet. it's long enough now that it hits the middle of my back, dripping water onto my pillows. i'm more than five, more than six, but those versions are still somewhere within me and they are loud. my skin is tan from the sun and i'm impatient, ready to know what's next. i'm certain i'd rather be back on the beach.

the air conditioner in the room is on. it's the kind we don't have at home, the one that fits into a window with buttons to press. the combination of wet hair and the cold air cools me down until i'm relaxed. calm.

i shift my computer to the other side and discover a book hidden in my bed. this was no book fairy as i'd tossed it there earlier, but magick still follows me around. maybe even more so now. the humming of the air conditioner plays it's melody as i begin to read and the comfort of all of this settles in around me.
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who says you can't go home? you're already there. it's all within you.
you are four, you are five, you are six and laughing. you are fourteen and sobbing, sixteen and yelling. you are twenty-two and brave, nineteen and drunk, eight and trying. you are the color of your childhood home, the bricks of your first apartment, the speakers of your first car.

turn on the air conditioner, listen to that album you played incessantly, doodle his name all over your notebook, bake the cookies your aunt always brought to holidays, catch the scent of your mother's perfume, put your hand on your heart line and let the beating tell you you're exactly where you're supposed to be, that home is within, and no one can take that from you.

truthFULL: musical theatre

i picked up the phone on the third ring and we chatted briefly, it had been awhile:

"what's new, honey?"

"well, actually, things are starting to pick up."

"oh! tell me, tell me."

"i think i might get to watch this dog in this gorgeous apartment every day."

... and then i realized she probably thought i was going to say something about acting.

it's strange that despite my incredible love for voice over, with almost daily auditions and one of the best agencies in the business, i still don't consider myself to be pursuing acting. honestly, i'm not sure i ever will if theatre isn't involved; the word 'acting' was synonymous to 'theatre' for so very long. musical theatre, to be correct. sometimes i laugh at the thought of a future me with a recurring role on a tv show, sitting on set, talking on the phone and explaining that 'i'm not really acting anymore'.

for now, i've learned to say that i'm not currently pursuing musical theatre at this moment, that i've found things i love more right now. 'at this moment' and 'right now' being key phrases because i truly don't know if i'll ever return to it. all i know is right this second.

i will, however, tell you that when i hear news of another friend achieving the broadway dream, getting cast in a show, or when i see friends' facebook photos of life on tour or in glamorous places, or even just hearing the opening credits of an episode of 'smash' with the orchestra warming up, it's like hearing someone say the name of your ex. that sort of pulling feeling, the tugging on your heart. not because you're not over him but because you loved him and he was such a large part of your life for so long. that feeling. but then again, for me, musical theatre might be that ex who you run into a few times, who still hangs with some of your friends. the one you eventually get back together with, not because he is the love of your life but because he is comfortable, because you know him so well. the relationship where maybe you're not totally who you truly are but it's nice to have someone to go to weddings with. something easy. and it that's the case - well, i don't want it.

we shall see.

truthFULL: phone calls

i'm listening to them on the phone; it's loud enough that i can hear both sides of the conversation. it's the fourth conversation in a row and i catch myself smiling at the way the story has changed from the first call to this one - little details and words swapped out, exaggerations made. i know there are at least a handful more in the very near future.

a relative has died.

my great uncle, the last of my grandpa's many siblings, passed away. over the phone, the tones in their voices smooth and soften and round in a way that people tend to do when they deliver and discuss certain kinds of news. they have a comforting musical quality to them akin to that of a classical piece whose melody you know perfectly and yet, you can't quite seem to recall the title.

earlier in the afternoon, another death happened. a dog, Yankee, in a shelter where i met him approximately once. for him, tears instantly fell down my face. my heart broke. the way i'm built, i fall to pieces over a pup instead of my great uncle. maybe it's because the former was abused, abandoned, thrown out with the trash. maybe because he didn't have the beautiful life every living creature deserves. maybe it's because i know the latter lived a full life. maybe because everyone knew it was coming. either way, i have to fight off the urge to think something is wrong with me and just accept it's who i am.

all in all, it's not been the best day. as i pause in the middle of writing this, my darling pup crawls into my lap. as much as i wish he were a lap dog, it's a pretty rare treat. i look down at his small body curled up and my heart bursts with love and i think - okay, tomorrow. tomorrow is going to be so excellent. and we sit, henry in my lap, my mom's voice floating through the line to whichever relative she's talking to now.

tomorrow will be excellent.

TruthFULL: sick

When she texted me to let me know that one of the little guys I babysit was sick,

that's when I should have said no.

But you know what I did instead? I said sure, absolutely, I'll even come early.

Internet: DO NOT LET ME DO THIS NEXT TIME.

This has been my view since Wednesday. I've been horizontal in my bed, my mom's bed, my sister's bed, the couch.. anywhere I can transition to sleep in a matter of seconds.

For a non-stop mover and shaker, this is literal torture.

So, naturally, I'm trying to find every single silver lining!

So, let's see.. here's what's great about being sick:

1. It has been nice to relax. Not something I'm great at.

2. Only eating soup is an instant diet.

3. Grand opportunity to be grateful for insurance.

4. Being reminded how much I'm loved. 

(My girlfriends brought liquids, trashy magazines and snacks.)

5. My favorite human brought me the giant tea seen above 

& proceeded to get in my bed and cuddle with me. 

Forget jewelry & flowers, tea wins my heart.

6. I realized I've been checked on from literally around the world.

7. My momma did my laundry for me!

8. And, you know, has been taking care of me for the past two days.

9. Although this little guy has declared himself officially on guard.

Hasn't left my side and seems to have no clue why we can't play.

(Also, food seems to still be okay to steal despite sickness.)

10. Gives me a lot of time to write blog posts for you to read, you lucky person.

Enjoy your weekend!

TruthFULL: Live the Questions.

Every day I try to ask myself a question for how I want to live each day.

Often I'll let the question be: "What do I - just me and not anyone else - want to do today?"

Sometimes it's less surface level: "How can I give today?"

On Monday, I decided to ask myself "How can I be more Loving today?"

And all day long, I practiced: when I found myself being snarky or witty, instead of opening up my heart, I corrected myself and said what I really meant. When I found myself stressing over the slower-than-snails pace the people in front of me were keeping, I let my heart view the situation instead.

I continued this on Tuesday and was feeling really great except there was still something off. By the time I got to her that evening, I was perplexed.

"I really like my life, you know? I'm happy, I feel great, I love that I'm the type of person that juices kale in the mornings and goes to the gym and meditates. I like that I'm the person I've always wanted to be."

She nodded because she gets it.

"But.. it's like there's still something just not right. Like there's still something that stops me from truly getting to where I want to be and what I want."

She smiled because she lets me sort it out on my own.

"I mean, maybe.. do you think.. it's because I sort of still walk around with my guard up? As though I've got a giant shield in front of me, you know, just in case?"

She burst out laughing because, well, of course.

So, yesterday, on Wednesday, when I woke up, I decided my question would be:

"How can I let down my guard today and let the world in a little more?"

I turned it into an adventure: what would happen?! How would it feel? Could I even do it?

All day, I visualized dropping the giant shield, breaking it, setting it off to the side, whatever.

When people said hello to me, I smiled or said hi back and kept walking. Instead of, you know, silently cursing them in my head or rolling my eyes. When the delivery men came to install my new stove, I chatted with them, helped in whatever way I could and learned a bit about them. Instead of being panic stricken, convinced I'd end up as a Lifetime channel movie-of-the-week. When my roommate's friends arrived today for a visit, I talked to them and enjoyed their presence instead of immediately being quiet or removing myself from their time together.

And then the coolest things began to happen: I reconnected with an old friend. I got an opportunity I've been wishing for. My favorite vegan food truck, The Cinnamon Snail, surprised me by filling a bag with a bunch of free treats, since it was the end of their day. I was given a free ticket to see a Broadway show I've been wanting to see. My birthday plans magically came together in an easy way. Everything felt light and easy and free and fun.

The shield tried to revive itself all day. It fought this new idea like it was in a war. But every time I felt myself closing off again, I just gently put it back down and kept trying. The best part is never once did I get frustrated with myself. Never once did I freak out and get mad at myself. I just kept trying.

Rilke had it right, friends. Live those questions.

What question are you living by today? What question can be an overall compass for your day? If you pick one, embrace it, keep it in your mind and then watch as answers start pouring in.

Some of the unexpected treats that came along today.

If a free 'smores vegan donut isn't proof that good things are flowing,

then I do not know what is.

TruthFULL: Raise Your Voice

And then, there will be the weeks where you have auditions almost every day. Four out of five, with appointments to boot. You'll sign in, see names on the list that make your heart dance a little. You'll be seated next to the actor from that show, you know, that show. Another guy will cruise in through the door and when you recognize who it is, you will have to physically stand up and move around to keep from flushing red and losing all hope of concentration. You will find this hysterical as you remind yourself to read the words on the paper in your hand at least one more time.

You'll go in with the copy they've given you and will do your best in that moment. Later, you'll describe the audition to one of your best friends, making fun of how terrible you were.

It will absolutely be that very audition that will turn into a callback, your first in this part of the business. You will learn what the terms "on hold" and "first refusal" mean.

You will find yourself having the most fun you've ever had and you will be brave in a way you forgot you were able to be: spouting out suggestions nonchalantly, taking risks, staying calm as though you do this every day. Talking to yourself in your head, rapidly reminding yourself to breathe, stay focused, you've got this.

These are the kinds of days, the kinds of situations that will keep you barreling forward during the other times, days, weeks, months, chunks of time where you are starting to wonder what, exactly, you are doing with your life. These moments will knit themselves together into a blanket that wraps around you, causing the warmth in your heart to let the tiny voice become just a little louder:

"keep going, keep going".

TruthFULL: Home Again

I woke for the third time at 8:48 am. My body plays a funny game where it picks one number and wakes me at the same exact time daily. Even when I change my sleeping habits, it still selects one number. Aside from the last few weeks, for the past year it's almost always been 10:16. Recently, 8:48.

My first thought was clear: I want to go home.

So badly and so quickly, in fact, that I delayed my morning meditation, usually done directly after teeth brushing and just before opening the curtains. This can wait, I thought, let's just go.
 __

When it comes to dealing with myself lately, I've become all flight.
With anyone else? Fight. I will stand toe to toe with you, going back and forth. I will wrap my arms around you until you finally settle. I will sit, silently, patiently, until you are done, just so you know I am there. I will fight for you.

But when the person I have come nose to nose with is me, I'm on the move. There's something about chasing down every one of your demons that is exhausting and for the moment, I don't want to face any more.

"Can't it be enough?" I always ask her, "Can't it be enough that I've knocked down almost every wall I had? Isn't, like, 98% more than most people will ever get to? Don't I get to keep something to hold onto?"

"Sure, if that's what you want." She is annoyingly right all of the time.
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We sat outside on the front porch and listened to the young family a few houses down. We both had reading material; her radio filtering out from inside; his leash wrapped around my wrist and his panting mixing with the music. The sunshine actually felt like a blanket.

"Why are you home, Kerry?"

"I'm allowed to come home if I want to." That was all. Nothing else.
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Later on the phone, with three thousand miles between us, I admitted that I wasn't sure if I was running or not.

Her voice came through the line, crackling a little but heartfelt all the same, "Look, when you go to New Jersey, yes, you're running to something comforting and safe. Going to LA for six weeks isn't the same thing. Or if you are running, maybe it's because you should be. Or maybe you'll go and hate it and end up back in New York. If you try something for a month, you don't have to keep doing it."

She knows things.
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The problem with being flight is that it's just as exhausting as facing those demons. And, just like the issues you're avoiding, you could travel across the world and you will still bump into yourself. It's inevitable. As my mind moves back and forth between trying to figure out why I live where I do, accepting that I will never again live where I grew up and (yet again) deciding about going to LA for awhile, I know that none of those things are really the answer.

The answer comes in the strength that is standing still, eye to eye with yourself and not turning to run. After that, it doesn't matter where you are or where you go. You're already home.

TruthFULL: Free Bird

There are some days when I have absolutely nothing planned. No meetings, no work, no babysitting, no social activities. Big ol' pile of nothin. Yesterday was one of those days.

In the morning, I ran over to a friend's place to see her before she leaves town again. Mostly because I love her a lot but also a little because it made me feel better about the day. This way, I would definitely have something to report. Look at me, so fancy with my plans. As I got home, my phone lit up with a text from one of my favorite humans. The generality of his message and the fact that it was early in LA told me he was bored, looking for someone to talk to.  I immediately fessed up:

"My day is too empty today, makes me uneasy."

His reply came quickly, "Me too".

I was totally taken aback and then laughed at myself. This man is someone I regard to be one of the most successful people I know. He is living his dream, making damn good money at it and has a full life outside of work. In many ways, I admire him and look to him as a role model for my career. (Don't tell him any of this, k? Great, thanks.) Here was this person who has achieved so much, with a whole day of nothing planned. I thought over the past few days of his texts and realized this was probably the case for many days now.

Lightbulb: What we do, as artists, comes with the inevitable downtime. Long stretches of time between gigs. Days on end where you have a lot of time for the internet and no use for your craft. The kind of days where your employed friends make jokes about how lucky you are to be able to sleep in or do whatever you want. The kind of jokes that sort of burn. This is as big a part of our career as the time we are actually working. Perhaps even more so.

Second lightbulb: These are the days where the art you make is conceived. The days you spend wandering Manhattan alone will later turn into a short story that will eventually become a full length feature film. The lonely hours you find yourself trapped in will be birthed into the hit song you write. The times you look at your calendar only to see absolutely nothing scheduled will become the joke you tell that sparks the interest of the agent who gets you your first big break. This is the part of your life you will draw on for inspiration in your acting class, your improv group, the piece you are choreographing.

Everything you're waiting for is actually beginning right now.

Words and truths are comforting but action, at least for me, always feels better in the moment. So, what do I do when an all too free time hits?

1. Stop feeling sorry for myself. As soon as I start climbing on to the self-pity train, I jump off of it as fast as I can. I remind myself that I'm damn lucky to be alive, healthy, intelligent and pursing my dreams.

2. Bust out my certainty staples. I've found that if I have certain things that I do every day, I feel much more balanced. These have become the things that fill the void for certainty in my world that currently has none. For me, this means: going to the gym, meditating twice a day, finding time to write and making a fresh juice. I can rely on these things when my world feels shaky.

3. Get a change of scenery. I love my apartment but girl has got to get outside to shake the I-have-nothing-to-do blues. In addition to changing my locale, I'm also forced to get some fresh air. Fresh air = fresh perspective.

4. Do the things I actually need to do. You know those 547 emails in your inbox that can be cleaned out? Receipts that need organizing? Tedious errands that need running? Texts that, oh I don't know, should be answered? Do all of those things. Hell, do ONE of those things. You can not imagine how good it will make you feel.

5. Think/Write/Figure out what it is I want. Make action plans. Imagine what I would be doing if I could be doing anything right then and then do it if possible or create steps to get myself there. Paint the perfect picture of my perfect life so I'm always moving toward new goals.

6. Relax. Attempt to relax. Attempt to relax for at least 5 minutes. Or, okay, at least 3.

7. Make phone calls. I kind of hate being on the phone. My best phone usage in suburbia was when I was driving but it sure is hard to call friends from underground in the subway. However, while I hate the phone, I sure do love my friends. Hours of free time means I can make a few calls without worrying I will lose my entire day. I can have two hour long conversations and still have enough time to do other things.

8. Listen to myself. This is a fun game called "shut up and hear yourself" and comes via sitting alone quietly. I especially enjoy the version "what do I want to do now?" where I think of what I want to do and then go do it.

9. Practice that art form I love so much. You know how all you need is that one meeting/audition/etc that will change your life and/or give you a job? If you use the free time you have to practice, you're ready for the job. If you're like me and sulking on your couch about how you have no friends/job/life/etc, you will not be. When I pick up my guitar and sing, I feel ready to sign my record deal.

10. Fucking revel in it. When I hit my most mopey place, I remind myself that I won't ever have this time again. Not only will new jobs come but obviously I will then be famous and almost never alone again. Plus, I'll be married with kids and dogs and houses and I will pine for days gone by when I had so much free time. I'll wonder what the hell was wrong with me that I didn't enjoy it. So, to please my future self, I revel in the glory that is right now.

I honor this truth: I am exactly where I am meant to be right now. Even if it is my couch.

Oh, and my yesterday full of nothing? Turned out to be a pretty damn good day after all.

Here Comes The Sun:

This is for trying new things.
For pushing into that feeling that doesn't ever feel so great.
For greatness.
This is for patience when you've run out.
For running out.
For running.
This is for the way it feels to let yourself feel.
For feeling nothing.
For feeling everything.
This is for time that is fleeting.
For fleeting thoughts.
For freeing thoughts.
This is for being free.
This is for you
and the way you look at me
that gives you away.
It is not an elephant in the room,
but God Himself there with us.
The company is welcomed.
The company is laughing.
This is for me
and the way that I don't recognize myself
and all the ways that I finally do.
This is for front porches and front stoops and front yards
who keep the stories
I keep in the back of my brain.
This is for going back.
For going forward.
For swing-sets and sunsets and set-ups and upsets.
For letting it settle.
For never settling.
This is for meeting you at 2
and meeting you at 20
and meeting me at 25.
This is for meeting halfway between our houses.
For all the houses you had.
For finally being home.
This is because love will fill you up
until it spills up and out,
until you have no choice but to share it.
This is for sharing the words unsaid to anybody else.
For the things that go unsaid.
For the things that don't need to be.
This is because I know you are on the path you should be.
Your feet would not be on this ground if it wasn't for you.
This is for you.
This is for you.
Take it.