Wave Riding

There is a frustrating fact of creativity - it goes away now and again. I’ve been blissfully occupied with recording and editing more pieces for my debut CD. On top of that, I had a voiceover project to take care of, one of my friends wanted a piece of music to use for a seminar he has given his talents to creating and I was working on a website for my music and CDs. Truly I’ve been in heaven.

Well…I can’t get into the studio again until the end of January. The voiceover project is complete. The piece for the seminar is finished. My website is up and running. I’m twiddling thumbs and feeling flat.

I remember this from when I was active in the theatre. Time was filled to the brim with rehearsals, fittings, running lines and blocking, at times learning dance moves, and then the actual performances for however long the play ran. Once that was done… nothing. There was always a letdown at the end of it; a sense of the world simply stopping and a wondering inside of “what the heck am I supposed to do now to occupy my time,” and the tiny little doubts that would tell me that maybe, just maybe, that was the last play.

So, I sit here in this place of wondering, knowing there isn’t really any reason for doubt and I begin to think about the waves on the ocean and about snorkeling. It’s such fun to ride the waves. When the wave goes away, as it inevitably will, what then? Well, every surfer knows there will always be another wave – anybody who has ever spent time on an ocean beach or even simply taken a science class knows this. One wave follows another. But in-between? Ah…this is where snorkeling comes into play.

I was taught to snorkel in Maui and the first thing I learned was, well, never to eat a full, rich meal and drive on a long winding road before putting on flippers, mask and breathing tube – though the fish were incredibly grateful for their unexpected bounty. The second thing I learned was more useful to my purposes. The best condition for snorkeling is stillness - a protected cove or a calm ocean day. Waves do not allow for much sight – everything is churned up and moving. But, when you are in clear, calm water you can see the brilliantly coloured fish and the sea turtles. It’s a world you cannot see when riding the waves – you’ve got to be floating and still.

I have completed one wave of activity and in this place of wondering and flatness I look over and see the metaphorical snorkeling equipment. Riding that wave hasn’t left me much time for anything else but music and websites. Now, I realize nothing has really stopped. There are depths of beauty to explore in this still cove of mine. And, with that realization comes the flooding in of wonderfully colourful imaginings, meditations and the opportunity to pick up my pen and write for there are still books within me just as there are still pieces of music floating around.

This flat place after the wave of activity is not so void as it seems. It’s something that is good to remember - after the movement, stillness. And, that stillness will always precede new movement because very often it is the very thing that feeds that movement. Seen this way, maybe it’s not so frustrating.

And, by the way, that new website?  http://www.kerryduvent.com/  :)

I Am That Which I Say I Am

So, I was given the gift of an amazing acting mentor/coach. This woman was not very well liked within the School of Drama at the University I was attending. She had the reputation of being a bitch. “She will rip you apart!” “She has made even the strongest of people leave the stage in tears…she’s a witch!” “Oh, Girl! You’ve got her for a teacher?! Oh, you should’ve waited until next semester when Mr. X will be teaching!” “Honey, I want to congratulate you on the part in the play you got, but I wouldn’t work with her for the world. It’s going to be awful with her directing it.”

I remember simply smiling and figuring I would take her into my experience on my own terms rather than others’ experiences. I’m glad I did. Did she get feisty? Yes. But, only when she saw someone giving less than they were capable of; when she saw them being lazy and not caring. Was she a bitch? Absolutely not. Did she ever rip me apart? No, but I knew when she was frustrated with me - when she felt I hadn’t given my best and, dang it all, I always knew that she was right when that happened.

She nurtured and cajoled and believed and pushed. I loved her and still do though I have lost track of her. She became my “official” mentor and mentored more than just acting for me. She was mentor in the real sense of the word. I was, at the time, married to an abusive man, so some of the things she would tell me or tell the class fell on ground inside that shook in awakening with her words. Words such as “You are enough. You have enough. You have enough talent, abilities, looks, time, desire and life to make what you want real.” “Don’t let anyone ever tell you, you are too sensitive. Do you not know that your sensitivity is one of your greatest strengths? As an actor, you absolutely need that level of sensitivity to master your art, to master this thing called acting. And don’t you know that it is your level of heart and level of sensitivity that makes you amazing as you are whether you continue in acting or not? No, you are not too sensitive and never allow that thought into your mind and never listen when someone tells you this.”

And, then there was this statement: “I don’t care if you have never been in a play. I don’t care if you have ever even walked on a stage. From this moment on, when someone asks you what you do, you tell them that you are an actor. Why? Because this begins a process in your mind that allows you to believe in what you are doing. It opens the door to actually becoming an actor. What you speak of becomes what you believe. What you believe becomes what you are. This is in any area of life.”

I do not act anymore and I do not know if I will again. It’s not something I’m thinking about. But, all of her words have stayed with me. So, in these days of mine, I am allowing more of my emotions and joy to show. I am allowing myself to believe in my enoughness (it’s a word now! :o) :p ). And, I am saying what and who I am whether I am in actuality there at the moment for who I say I am, I become.

Jade Wind

When I realized that my other main blog "From One Who Almost Forgot" was branching out into more than the focal point originally intended, I knew that it was time to begin another blog. "...Almost Forgot" is a bit like eavesdropping on my meditations; on my dialogue and questions to and regarding That Which Is - the Divine.  And, well, I wish to keep it that way.  So, Jade Wind will be a place for these related thoughts that didn't quite have a home on "...Almost Forgot."

Jade Wind.  Jade is a stone long considered one of wealth and luck and beauty.  It symbolizes treasure in many places of the world (the Maoris of New Zealand, for example).  Jade is also a nickname of mine.  I won't go into the details of where that nickname came from, at least not yet, but it is a nickname that reminds me of my spirit.  Wind is something I have always felt kin to.  In fact, my last name means "of the Wind."  Wind is also ever changing, ever powerful and always free.  So...Jade Wind - a wind that brings luck, beauty, treasure and encouragement.  A wind that changes our dreams into reality. 

I'll begin by copying the thoughts from "...Almost Forgot" that belong here over from there. They will appear below this post as they were written on earlier dates.  They will also stay as posts on "...Almost Forgot."

I hope you find these thoughts, feelings and words useful to you.  May they encourage your own dreams - whatever they are.  May they open the windows of your own wonderful spirit to ride on these winds of change and passion for living.  And also, please feel free to check out or continue reading/following "From One Who Almost Forgot" as I will continue writing there as well.

http://fromonewhoalmostforgot.blogspot.com/

Photo:  Afternoon sky on the Washington State coast.  Cropped and coloured using Photoshop CS

Coffee Shop Dreaming

I am sitting in a coffee shop warming myself by the fire they so thoughtfully make available to us on a cold winter’s day. Above my head is a speaker that is providing all different types of music. What strikes me about this is that each song is from a completely different genre - Rock, Jazz, Classical, Country, Folk, World, and Alternative. Each piece has its own beauty and gift. I have to wonder about the musicians. What brought them to this place where they create in their own style this level of music in which you can hear their mastery? It’s an important question for me as I am in the middle of working on my own first CD and it applies also to the books I am writing.

I think many would tell me that it’s the hours of practice and study and training. You hear so many stories of the musicians who spend 6 hours a day in practice and several more studying theory and technique. However, I’m not sure that’s the truth. I spent a year studying music (voice) in college and watched many of these phenomenally talented musicians doing that very thing – they lived in the music hall, had no life outside of the practice rooms and classrooms. But, you hear nothing from them now. Some have completely disappeared, and most now teach rather than perform in the way they once dreamed of.

Many of the musicians you actually hear and love have been told at least once, if not more often, that they didn’t have what it takes to be successful. They could practice until their fingers fell off or they lost their voice completely and would never be anyone in the music world and yet they are.

So, what’s the key? I think there are a couple of keys. One is found in the phrase “they once dreamed of.” What happened to that dream? In letting go of the dream, reality changed for them and we hear someone else instead of them. What we think on and what we dream of with our entire being ends up happening. One key at least, then, is never stop dreaming of those moments in which you are doing what you really love and being wonderfully successful at it.

Another key is in allowing that still small voice inside of you room to become loud enough to drown out those who would say “you can’t” or “you won’t.” There is a moment inside of us that chooses to listen or not listen. At some point, if we wish live who we really are, we must choose to no longer listen to those who would say “you can’t.” What I love is that the choice is always yours. There may have been a time, or many times, when you listened to the “you can’t” voices but you can always, ALWAYS make a different choice at any time. It’s one of the most beautiful things about being human.

Learn to listen to that part of you that simply aches with longing to do one thing or another – whatever that is. That is the voice. It’s soft at first, especially if we have buried it deeply, but it will grow louder as we nourish the sound of that dream - that knowing - until that still, small voice becomes delighted laughter and expression. Awaken to the moment of realization that “this is mine to do in this life,” and simply choose it – every moment of every day. Trust and believe that in this way we can best express our connection to That Which Is and our connection to ourselves – when we connect to one, we connect to the other. There is a point where we either walk away from what we dream of or we take a breath, stretch our hands out to the sides, close our eyes and step off. Though training and effort might be needed, no amount of training can make up for that moment.

Top Photo:  Campfire on the WA State Penisula - Collins Campground

Bottom Photo: by Patrick Corrigan - My hands playing the first time I was in the Opus4 recording studios

Frozen

Frozen…well, that’s been me. Most of this year has been one of loss in one way or another and through each of those losses I have felt a piece of me slow down and stop. Isa is a perfect word for this feeling or happening. It’s a Norse Celt word/ideogram from the runic alphabet that means “ice” and “standstill” – the place of silence and seemingly no movement. Its symbol is that of a vertical line drawn. It’s a tough place to be. I have so many things to accomplish, so many things to do and yet I am distracted by those losses, distracted by the things that wake me up in the middle of the night and then keep me awake until dawn. Body and soul exhausted - finally given no option but to be still.

Isa is coming to a stop but there is a blessing in it as well – rest and healing. Isa isn’t about a full stop though it might feel constrictive…restrictive…dead. Isa is winter – the stark beauty of snow and bare trees and frozen ground. Trees withdrawing sap, seeds cocooned under frozen earth and yet life continuing underground. Visibly stopped. Invisibly moving. All things gaining the nourishment they need to break through the earth, draw back up the trunk and burst into visible life again. Similar to the Native American concept of embracing bear or going into the cave, it is the time of winding down, resting, learning, healing, knowing self deeper within or, at least, it is the opportunity for that. Thought of this way, it’s a coming home, where all else drops away and I am left with quietness and connection to That Which Is.

And slowly, slowly tiny moments of, not only stillness, but rest occur. Peace and a sense of Grace in small quantities. And I am still, with my head cocked to the side as if listening deeply or sorting through these new sensations – giving space for them to grow and no longer fighting with it all (well, not as much anyway :o) ;) )

From here movement begins.

Photo:  Frost-etched leaf on the walking trail of the Cedar River Park, Renton, WA.