As I sit, quarter-heartedly (yes, that's less than half) trying to get myself to proof a storyboard for a third time, I think about excitement. The best actors base their work on scripts they're excited about. They know that's how the best work gets done.
So I sit here, and am irritated by my closed chest cavity and tight shoulder muscles. I can't even contemplate the wildcrafting herbal life I read about in Gaia's Gifts. It's too much, too large and away from me. Sure, I can imagine it, but contemplating it is far too dangerous.
I'm like a country held under a precarious dictatorship sometimes. I am my own dictator with an iron fist and troops screaming over and gassing to tears the masses trying to revolt. Why does the dictator act so monstrously? Because s/he knows hir power is fragile and as soon as the proletariat realizes it and gets pissed, shi'll be another speck in bloody history. So I clamp down and don't really ponder the freedom I know is out "there" because, well, I'm "in here".
I logged back on to teachforamerica.org today. I'd lit onto it about a month ago, and then forgot; a mess of lovers, a lovers mess, trying to find financial stability, trying not to freak on the corporation, loving fall, wanting peace, all of that day-to-day shit so easily distracts me, but I always return. Here's a crazy realization I just had: I've been kicking the idea of teachforamerica around for about 4 years now. For 4 years I've been going to that website and thinking, huh, this could be perfect for me. Or I've heard of people I know joining and have been envious of it. Four years! What the fuck am I waiting for!
I wish you could hear the cacophonous echo and scream that just rang through and through my skull when I asked me that question.
So I printed off the deadline page. There's one tomorrow at 8 pm. I could make that deadline if I wanted to cram it, but I don't want to cram anything anymore. I want to do something because it is right to do, not because I'm sick of desperation and desperate to get out of it. The next deadline is on January 4th. If I apply and get accepted, it's likely I'll spend 5 weeks in Philly getting trained. There's a little squee for Zem in that for sure.
In moments like these, when Ani DiFranco won't get the hell out of my head, and the best way for me to get off the dark lush path and back into beige-2D-fuck work mode is to type words glorious prosody words, my throat hurts. I literally get choked up on the kicking spirit that wants to violently bloody scream out of me. I have to rock her gently back to right here. And proof the fucking storyboard 1 more time. And tell myself all is as I made it.