The Magic of the Color Purple (Blog #956)

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Three years ago this Christmas I was in New York City, and my friend Chad said, “You’ve GOT to see The Color Purple. I don’t care if you have to move heaven and earth to make it happen–go.” Well, I did. I bought a balcony ticket for–I don’t know–fifty or a hundred bucks and went all by my lonesome. In short, my life hasn’t been the same since. Within the first two minutes of the opening number, “God Works in Mysterious Ways,” I started crying, and I didn’t completely stop crying until the show was over. Simply put, it was a soul-grabbing, spirit-moving experience, the story of an abused teenager/woman and her journey of self-empowerment.

For the last three years, hardly a week has gone by that I haven’t listened to at least one of the songs from The Color Purple. Some of my favorite lyrics are–God works in mysterious ways—Open up your eyes, see what God has done–and I believe I have inside of me everything that I need to have a bountiful Life. Needless to say, a few months ago when I learned that The Color Purple was touring and would be in town tonight, I snatched up two tickets on the seventh row. I’ve been looking forward to it ever since.

So get this shit.

Last year I worked backstage for the national tour of The Wizard of Oz, and last month I worked backstage for the national tour of Beautiful: The Carole King Musical. I guess this is how you get your foot in the door, since earlier this week my friend who hired me to work for these musicals (in Alma) recommended me to work backstage for The Color Purple (in Fort Smith). And whereas the job was to start at eight in the morning and I hate mornings, of course I jumped at the chance.

Y’all, today I woke up at six-thirty. Before the sun was even up. And whereas I’m a dipped-and-dyed night owl and, therefore, hate to admit this–it wasn’t awful. Actually, more and more I’m finding that mornings are rather agreeable to me. Maybe this comes with getting older (damn it), but it’s like the world is quiet and I can think. I have more energy.

No kidding, I showed up to the theater EARLY.

WHAT has happened to me?

As I have for the past two shows, I was assigned to PROPS this morning. I will forever be amazed at how multiple semi-trailer trucks can be unloaded and loaded back up in a single day, as one fellow worker commented, “all for a two hour show.” (My thought was, Totally worth it.) Anyway, in order for all this to work seamlessly, there must be order, and the more experience I get backstage, the more I appreciate the structure of the whole thing. The carpenters work on the set, the electrician work on the lights and sound, the props crew set up (part of) the orchestra pit, lay down the Marley floor, and–duh–set out the props.

It takes a village.

Something that’s been on my mind lately and especially today is how much power one person has to either bless or stress someone else. For example, having worked backstage a couple of times before today, I’ve been around some really pleasant people (who smile and say thank you) and some really unpleasant people (who yell and scream and act entitled). Either way, incidentally, all the work gets done. It’s just a matter of whether it gets done with a good attitude or a bad attitude. More and more, I see this as a choice, not just how I behave, but also how I respond to someone else’s behavior. Because I control whether I frown or smile. I can’t control how anyone else looks at me or treats me, but I can control that; I can control my reaction. Even when I get stuck with a sourpuss supervisor, I think, Am I going to make this day a good one or not?

Fortunately, my supervisor today, Whitney, was anything but a sourpuss. Rather, she was quite delightful. Y’all, it doesn’t take much. She said, “How are you?” She said, “Where are you from?” She literally called us friends. What’s more, she and the other folks on our crew made jokes. One guy noted that one of the boxes we unloaded said–I think–Magnum Ultra. He said, “That’s my stripper name.” We all tossed around comments like this one all morning. Seriously, a light-hearted attitude makes all the difference. I thought, I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I got up early.

Now it’s four in the afternoon, and I’m at a coffee shop. At one all of us locals got cut for the afternoon, so I met my parents for lunch and then came here. Shortly I plan to meet a friend for dinner, and then we’ll see the show. After that, I’ll return backstage to work load out until–I don’t know–midnight or after. So, this is a long day.

But this is a good day.

Our days here are limited.

In “God Works in Mysterious Ways,” which is set in a hymn-singing, gospel-believing church, there’s a lyric that goes, Hallelujah! Today’s the day God has made. You don’t believe in God? That’s fine. My point is that today is special and unique. Never again will the sun shine quite the same way, and never again will you have THIS chance to smile, THIS opportunity to be kind to those around you. As one mystic has pointed out, THIS day will never come again. More and more I realize that today is a gift–and that my days here are limited. One day I’ll wake up, either early or late, and I’ll never wake up again. At least on this earth, at least in this body. So often I judge my life for not being “bigger,” “better,” but the truth is that this kind of thinking disconnects me from the magic of this present moment–the magic of a stranger’s kindness or laughter, the magic of lunch with my parents, the magic of the color purple.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes we move with grace and sometimes we move with struggle. But at some point, standing still is no longer good enough.

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Go Ahead, Say Hello (Blog #740)

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Yesterday I learned the word whinge, which means to complain, grouse, or bitch in a peevish, childish manner, so this morning I told my therapist I’d be whinging a lot during our session. I’ll spare you my specific gripes, but she said, “Oh, I love whinging.”

“Well you’re in the right profession,” I said.

“No, I personally love whinging,” she clarified. “I don’t love it when other people do it.”

Still, she let me.

Don’t worry, she was compensated nicely for this.

Recently my therapist told me I was a good person, and I’ve been frustrated about that and told her so today. Not that I’m frustrated about her assessment, but like, so fucking what? Yeah, I’m a good person. Maybe not a saint–I don’t have wings–but I do my best–you know–up here on the high road. But it’s not like being a decent human being pays my bills or gets me laid on a regular basis. Or ever. And as I’ve said a number of times on this blog, being honest, vulnerable, and authentic is rarely a way to win friends (or influence people). Rather, it’s often a way to lose friends. This is why I’m constantly saying that I don’t recommend this path of personal growth (even though I really do)–because for all its rewards (and there are a few), it’s isolating and lonely. It is, after all, by definition, personal growth, NOT group growth. This is why Caroline Myss says that no one will ever celebrate YOUR personal empowerment. Because it means you don’t need them anymore. It means you’re doing something WITHOUT them.

In short, this entire setup sucks.

Whoever came up with this universe, I’d like to have a word.

Obviously, there are times I feel “this is bullshit” more than others, and lately I’ve simply been feeling it. These last few years have been challenging, and although I said yesterday that things are looking up, I’m tired–tired of feeling isolated, tired of being strong, tired of working on myself, and tired of always trying do the right thing. Fuck the right thing. “It fucking sucks,” my therapist said today. “I won’t patronize you and say it doesn’t. Honestly, it’s why I can be real shitty at times. Because no one can always, always, always take the high road.”

More and more, I think it’s important to acknowledge this. Almost everyone in psychology talks about our shadow, and the philosopher Alan Watts said we all contain a certain amount of “rascality.” The best people, it seems, acknowledge their shadow or inner rascal. Recently I had an absolute laugh-fest making fun of a total stranger. Was that a shitty thing to do? Sure. But did it feel good? You fucking bet it did. And, yes, I’m fine with the idea (or fact, I’m sure it’s a fact) that sometimes total strangers make fun of me. People laugh at each other. It’s a thing. Personally, I think it helps release steam that builds up because we so often guard our inner thoughts under the guise of being “appropriate.” Not that we don’t think naughty thoughts, we just don’t say them out loud. So the steam has to seep out somewhere.

As I understand it, a lot of healing and growth can happen when we fully acknowledge our shadows, when we say, “Yeah, I’m capable of the worst a human is capable of. Because I’m human.” Not that you have to encourage the dark side of yourself. Clearly, you don’t want it to take over. But, again as I understand it, it’s less likely to get out of control when you’re honest about the fact that it’s there. Our less-than-best only becomes a problem when it’s shoved down, ignored, and denied. Like, I would NEVER do THAT.

Yes you would.

In most mythologies and religions, there’s this idea of good and evil. The light and the dark. You and your shadow. And whereas some mythologies say one is better than the other, others say it all–simply is. And whereas I’m not here (in this particular post) to make a moral judgment about good and evil, I know that in my personal life I often label certain experiences and emotions good or bad. Like, I feel isolated and tired, and that sucks, so that’s bad. But it’s not. The truth is that anything I feel along THE PATH is simply part of the path. Just because it’s uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s something to run away from. Indeed, you can’t run away from your shadow because you’re attached to it.

That thought or feeling you think is unacceptable and have banished to the corner?

Uh–that’s part of you.

My therapist’s advice today was to lean into my emotions, to let myself feel tired, frustrated, worn out, and exhausted. This seems to be a theme lately, this idea of FEELING my feelings. (Blah. What the hell?) My therapist says they go away faster when you do, even though everyone’s natural inclination is to–I don’t know–reach for the bottle or a slice of chocolate cake. Or the whole cake. (A whole cake would be nice right about now.)

Joseph Campbell said, “The Fates lead him who will; him who won’t, they drag.” To me this means that one way or another, you’re doing to meet your shadow. Sooner or later, we all have to face and feel every uncomfortable thing inside us. Because that’s you in there. That’s one of your parts. And if you think being isolated from someone else is lonely, try being isolated from yourself. So go ahead, say hello. You might as well meet yourself willingly.

Of course, feel free to whinge about it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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