Act 1 : Sit & Be Still. Listen.

I didn't expect the last three months. I didn't expect the change of storyline, the new character, the themes developed. The curtain opened on a new year, and no one had handed me the script. So I stood center stage - blank, with no idea what words I was to speak. I searched the wings looking for a cue card, something to begin with.

I received a direction - Sit & Be Still. Listen.

So I sat. Right there in the middle of my life, my play. On the stage that had seen so much action, my own bustling about. This new scene went against those before. The transition was swift, almost non-existent. Once a stage full of characters and ever-changing scenes and props. Then, everything removed, a blanket laid out, I walk to the center, and I'm prompted to sit.

In that new space, my heart breathed deep. The sigh of No Expectation, because frankly there wasn't any energy.

Quickly though, the tug of the old drama came. After sitting still and listening long my character was drawn to the rhythm of the scenes gone by. I stood. Feet attempting to run back and forth to reconstruct the set, stage the characters, and muster up a script. My body grew tired faster and then a glance to the wing - there was the cue card again.

Sit & Be Still. Listen.

There was a struggle. To listen to the direction given or push through to manufacture the drama that had already taken place once before.

I walked to the blanket, and sat.

...and sat some more. Craning my neck to the sides of the stage, looking out in to the crowd, I sought an answer - certainly there Should be more than this. What kind of play is this if I'm just sitting. I should be running around - doing, doing, doing. Then I saw it, far out, way in the back. Squinting, my eyes read a sign - Sit & Be Still. Listen.

Okay, there has to be a mistake. Maybe this is the part where I improv my way through the next few scenes. Certainly, this cannot be what I am suppose to do. Sit? Be Still? Listen?

Those words before were part of the action - Sit while you meet with them. Be still so you don't disrupt. Listen so you know what to do next. But now, what do those words mean? They were always tied to an action, the next step, a transition to the next scene. And there weren't any characters in my place on the stage. My eyes looked, but no one felt this exactly. The moments before the quick transition were full of drama, tears, confusion. Now this deep breath of No Expectation.

Yet there was the pull to seek out a Should. Really, I Should be doing something other than Sitting & Being Still & Listening. I mean, scenes can have moments of those in-actions. But entire scenes and acts? Won't that scream boring and a waste to an audience?

I lay here now. On this blanket, center stage. The curtain is drawing for a change of scene, yet the direction is still being given. Sit & Be Still. Listen. So here I'll stay, waiting for a prompt. A script with the words to say next. I let out another deep breath of No Expectation. How sweet it is to breathe that air.

the dreaming & the doing

Here’s the thing – you can dream all day long, but until you do something - that dreaming just sits on journal pages or in your pretty little head or on that pinterest board you spent hours on. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge advocate for dreaming. Dreaming is the very thing I believe helps us discover who we are. It’s the place where we can take risks, because we can dream of dying our hair pink without actually doing it. It’s like dress up for your life, and you never grow up and enter middle school and end up not fitting in to your favorite pink, frilly, princess dress. Dreaming is a place where fear is not allowed and being crazy is an asset. So with that, I say DREAM-dream big and wide and crazy, and WRITE IT DOWN. Nothing makes you feel like a real live crazy person than writing down your dreams. Because yes, when you write down “own a unicorn” you will realize how crazy you are. But the first step is admitting it, right?

So there ya go, dreaming. Now that I’ve up-ed my word count trying to convince you of how important and lovely I think dreaming is – let me say this – dreaming needs doing. While yes, writing down your dreams is doing something; I believe it’s only the first step. And yes I do also realize that I can’t do much more than just write down that I want to own a unicorn. (Other than buying myself a horse and strapping a horn on its head – ha solved that one!)

Really though, this is where we (yes - you, me and every other lovely human person) get stuck. We can dream all day, we can make lists; we can talk in pretty descriptions, and spend endless hours on pinterest. Trust me, I know; I’m really good at pinterest. But there has to be a step forward.

For some, that first step is sharing. It’s being bold and sitting with a friend and saying “this is my dream”. And oh my dear, that is huge – because these dreams we hold in us are fragile and sharing them is scary business. Once we’ve shared (and trust me I realize this isn’t the easiest step) we have to allow ourselves to believe it is possible. Now I’m not saying this is going to work for a seventy year old who dreams of having five kids by the age of seventy-seven. I mean there was Sarah..but you know what I mean. There is this thing called “reality” and it’s a real bugger because darn it, I’ve tried jumping off the couch with my bed sheet cape so many times and I still can’t fly.

I’m getting off track here – the point is whether your dream is to fly, have kids, open a business, travel to Ireland, grow a beard – you have to believe that you can and move forward from that place. Grab your bed sheet, tie it up, and perch on the edge of that couch cushion. And then….JUMP!

And yes, you will hit the ground. But remember the rush? That singular moment as you were parallel (not crashing in to) the ground and you felt so light and free. That’s the doing. That’s the rush that comes with jumping in to the unknown of your dreams. And yes, there will be times that you fall. Really though, we all need failure otherwise we would all be superheroes that didn’t need saving. (And hon, we don’t need anymore spandex suits in the world – leave that to Cirque de Soleil) Embrace the failure, just like your face just embraced the carpet you fell in to. Failure doesn’t mean everything is wrong. I’m tired of failure being a negative word. Someone needs to paint a pretty canvas with the word “failure” in calligraphy – because dang it failure teaches you and shapes you.

So let’s give failure a bear hug, let’s dream of unicorns and business and babies and travel, and then – let’s jump. Without fear of the fall, the carpet burn, the fact that we may need help up after. (At least you didn’t have to wear spandex.)