Still Another Dose of Brevity, on the Subject of Awesome Typos that Should Totally Be Real Things:

I would absolutely love to be a biospychologist.  I don't know what that would entail, but it would be the best job description ever.

Another Dose of Brevity, Upon the Occasion of Uncovering Apparent Let's-Not-Call-It-Hypocrisy-Okay-Let's in My Sexual Health Textbook:

My textbook goes to great pains to discuss the psychological effects of rape.  This includes careful historical and cross-cultural examination of the blame-the-victim phenomenon.  The authors illuminate the feelings of shame the phenomenon can produce within the victim, even before anyone has blamed her.

Under the subsequent section, "Rape Prevention," I found about twenty helpful tips as to how women can avoid being raped.  And nothing else.

Reverb 11, Follow Up

Happy New Year, my friends, and thanks for coming on this little journey with me.  Without the invitation to participate in this twelfth-month soul-search, I doubt I would have had the courage to follow through on tonight's theatrical journey. Thanks also to the Sacred Fools Theater Company for being kind, welcoming, hilarious, talented, and high-octane in the best of possible ways, and my buddy Chris for bringing me to them.

I second-guessed myself many times before walking into the theater this morning.  I'd just written about how long it's been since I performed for an audience - what was I thinking, letting my first venture back to the stage be this 24-hour madness?  It'd be like swearing off singing for a decade (like I could do that) and doing a one-night stand with the L.A. Master Chorale.

Then I thought about all the other things I've written this month; in them I found the kernel of courage I needed to move ahead.

By the time we actually went up in front of the audience, I felt like I'd been reintroduced to a vital part of myself.  How could I do this?  How could I not? How could I have forgotten, how could I have abandoned this integral component of Dash for so long?

Truth: I hadn't forgotten.  I abandoned that part of myself because I no longer felt worthy of it, no longer had faith in my own value.  Worse, I couldn't bear to risk having that self-perception confirmed by others.  Only with restored belief in my abilities could I take the risk. And boy did I reap the reward.

Sharing in the vivacity and creative lust of the Fools was like coming home again; earning the laughter and applause of the audience was like a big hearty hug from Mom.

This is the best start to a New Year I've ever had.

Reverb 11, December Thirty-First

Encapsulate your hopes for the year 2012 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word.

Open.  I want this to be the year I open up my life - to new people, new experiences, new places.  I want this to be the year I share more of myself.


Wish me luck, my friends, and Happy New Year!

Reverb 11, December Thirtieth

What’s the thing you most want to achieve next year? How do you imagine you’ll feel when you get it? Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful? Write that feeling down. Then, brainstorm 10 things you can do, or 10 new thoughts you can think, in order to experience that feeling today. 

It's time to move out.  It's actually past time to move out.  I've had some setbacks over the past few years, but as soon as I got this job and got back into school I knew my time was coming.  As often as I'm gone, as expensive as rent in Los Angeles can get, I'm making it my business to be out of this house by this time next year.  Aside from my twin needs of space and privacy, I need space and privacy.  The physical and the psychological.


When I get it?  Free, happy, and blissful are but the beginning.  My self-perception will alter.  In ways it shouldn't, perhaps; I suspect I'll feel things about myself I should be feeling already.  In fact, I know that - my therapist keeps telling me so.

I'm already trying to generate that feeling internally.  Nothing seems to work - there's only so much I can change about the way I see myself and my place in the world...without actually changing myself and my place in the world.

I've started looking at my job as a part of my career.  I take pride in my work.  I'm trying to take more pride in my studies. I could think of six other things, but the sense of bliss, freedom, and happiness I'm looking for will absolutely come well in advance of the keys to my own place if only I can develop greater patience.  That will help me take more pride in all of my work, in my place in the world.

That's fighting a psychological habit of years.  Impatience is sort of a hallmark of mine.

Reverb 11, December Twenty-Ninth

What makes you squirm, looking back at 2011? Write about a moment in which you were uncomfortable, out of your comfort zone, or caught off-guard. Why was it so awkward?

Here's the thing - each of the moments I'm thinking of involve other people, and writing in any detail about those moments seems inappropriate.

These conversations required me to be more mature than I'm used to.  During one conversation, I was quite firmly the adult.  I can do this professionally without batting an eyelash, but for some reason bringing that forthright maturity and authority into my personal life has been difficult in some ways.  The specific form of maturity to which I refer involves speaking the hard truths to people who don't want to hear them, and running the risk of their disapproval (or worse).  I'm learning to speak them to myself; I should show my loved ones the same courtesy.

There's a difference, you know, between rigorous honesty and brutal honesty.  Rigorous honesty means being honest, even when it hurts me, or makes me uncomfortable.  Brutal honesty means being honest, even when it hurts or makes uncomfortable the person with whom I'm being honest.  My comfort zone is breached when I'm not sure which is which - an extreme rarity for me.

Worse is when I know what I'm saying will fall upon deaf ears, or meet with worse than disapproval, and my concept of what it means to love requires me to open my fool mouth anyway.

Reverb 11, December Twenty-Eighth

Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)

 Dear 2012 Dash: buckle down, get it done, sure, but also have fun.  Push your limits.  Meet new people.  Toward the end of a long journey, it's natural to get focused on the destination - but keep in mind how many fascinating side-trips and discoveries are missed because of target fixation.  Broaden your perspective.  Believing in yourself a skosh more wouldn't hurt either.


Dear 2001 Dash: quit drinking.  Quit the weed, too.  Maybe get a little more focused on the destination; if you ignore it completely, you'll never get there.  Don't be so afraid to be yourself while you figure out who that is.  And even if you ignore every word of this, heed these two things: I love you, and it'll all be okay.