Something I wrote last year

I spoke with my friend Joe tonight, whom I love. Try and tell me about Joe’s faults and I’ll probably agree with you, but you see- as I said before, I love him. It’s a hell of a lot easier to love Joe in spite of his flaws than it is to love myself, and I see a lot of myself in Joe.

I spoke with my friend Blair today, whom I also love. If she was a man I’d marry her and be entertained for the rest of my life. As it is, she is a woman and quite taken by a young man, and I find myself in a similar predicament. So we will settle to retire together in Florida as Blanch and Dorothy from the Golden Girls, shoulder pads, tapered pants, glittery blouses and all if dreams do come true.

I watched Tom Hanks on Inside the Actors Studio tonight. He talked about a man from the Great Lakes Shakespeare Festival who said that all the greatest stories are about loneliness. We exist in the kindred company of billions. He said of the business of acting that it is about perseverance and that when one’s greatest prospect is a callback for a Dannon yogurt commercial it is difficult to have to identify that as an expression of your life’s passion.

On perseverance, life’s passion, and small beginnings…
It’s books I love. Not necessarily reading them, just being with them, reading their titles, the names. Would it be a reduction to say it is words I love? Not completely. Words as hints and guesses, to repeat a favorite phrase. Between the leather membrane, the words; woven by the words, the stories. James Lipton asked Tom Hanks what turns him on and he said laughter. Hints and guesses turn me on. The stories…the stories, well those slay me. They cut right through the life I know and live everyday. Even feel good stories can be painful. A soul is a heavy thing you know, fill it with pain and tears, and laughter and it sags and stretches and forces itself to grow. And that’s uncomfortable. My friend’s father, Randy Marshall preached today and I heard this…when we don’t know what to pray, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with groanings that words cannot express. He said we agonize in prayer. I get that. At the end of the service a baby was crying and he said, “yeah that’s the way I feel most of the time too.” I’m confused, I hope, I despair, I laugh, I cry, and sometimes I nothing, just nothing. And from all this I agonize. Mr. Marshall says our agony on it’s own isn’t good, but that our agony plus something (and he said he doesn’t know what that something is) produces good. In the book of Romans Chapter 8, Paul follows the bit about groanings with this, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.” I often ask with Jack Nicklaus, “Is this as good as it gets?” Probably not, but until I see signs of clearing skies I’ll take it that the Holy Spirit is busy as a little secretary inside of me, filing away memories and assimilating experiences, sending me memos, making appointments with my therapist etc. And beyond that, God works all things for my good, it’s right here, I don’t have to chase a damn thing.

(Is she still talking?)
I saw Patty Griffin sing at the Granada last night. The woman did not sing a dishonest note. Something I learned in my single, beginning acting class this semester is the importance of honest work. She’s doing it. An incredible community of people gathered in that theater, drawn together by this woman’s honesty, and her honesty in examining herself and her world. She sings- no wails, something like, “I must confess there seems to be more darkness than light, I see it everyday of my life.” I agonize and I can’t pretend that I don’t. I agree with Patty that there seems to be more darkness than light. I went caving last summer and sat inside the cave in pitch black, I could not see my hand in front of my face. A whole lot of darkness, but turn on one flashlight and that dark can’t even hide in a corner. The Psalmist says to God, “even the dark is as light to you.” Another favorite quote of mine, “To every cry from our passion-filled hearts God answers Jesus.” It don’t make sense. The spirit speaks in groans we can’t understand, that don’t make sense either. But it’s good.