Yay mornings!

I went to bed feeling awful last night - lower than I have felt in some time. A variety of things brought it on, including but not limited to: delving deep into stress and shame around money; uncertainty about what direction I should choose for the future (a habitual and not helpful though pattern that usually leaves me feeling more directionless than ever); a conversation about drug use that allowed me to sort out some of my intense feelings around it (anger, judgment, sorrow), but took me back to a time where there was more pain being held than I realized (the first long term relationship I was in, back when I was 19, was with a man with a pretty serious drug problem...it was something he worked through in the time we were together, but the pain and confusion I associated with drugs in the beginning has stayed with me to this day).

Sitting at The Lakeview late last night with Martin and talking about this stuff over a pint, I felt myself gradually opening up and then suddenly and quickly shutting down. I tend to do this if I think that I'm not being completely understood, and often instead of clarifying my point I just shut down. Oops, this is what I'm trying not to do. But last night it was more than that...I managed to get myself to (what felt like) a point of no return, feeling sad and helpless about life until I gratefully fell asleep, reassuring myself that I would feel better in the morning. I always do.

Unless of course I wake up yelling and crying after a horrible dream of, say, dead kittens, which is what happened this morning. But with Martin's gentle reassurance and hugs, plus the sunlight streaming in, I was quickly able to recover from this and soon started to feel how I usually do in the morning: tired, but somehow renewed, with hope and optimism for the day and life to come. This is why I love mornings so much, and why it is so important for me to keep at least some of them free. Rushing off somewhere first thing tends to kill that morning buzz, but when I have the morning to bask in it and optimize on my positive energy, my entire day benefits.

I still have a ton of question marks floating around, and I can feel the anxiety starting to creep back in already as I start to think about jobs and what would be the best way for me to get the most of this morning time. But I best not waste the time I have worrying, right? I have an hour left before I go babysit, and I am present and positive and aware...I'll just stay with that.

A Big Dose of Truth

I already had a lot on my mind when I came home this evening - I had just returned from performing a couple of numbers with my burlesque troupe, at an event called "Women Out Loud", which is also the name of the organization that put it on (a UofT based feminist type of group). It was a great night with a Q&A that provoked some very interesting discussions. I was grateful to have the opportunity to talk openly about some of the questions and dilemmas I have had as a burlesque peformer - namely one who resonates strongly with a lot feminist writings and ideals. It was both riveting and insightful to have these discussions in a public, open format setting. I intended to come home and write all about it, but something came up that took my mind off of the rest of the evening very quickly.

I watched a video on YouTube called "The Story of Stuff". It is a dose of truth that is hard to ignore, and yet hard to accept at the same time. Horrifying to see and hear it, and sickening to realize just how active of a participant I have been in it...basically since birth (toxin-ridden breast milk, anyone?)

Some of the things in this video were news to me, others were not. And as for those that were not...well, a good deal of the time I'm just not thinking about it. Acting out of habit, convenience...it's the easy choice to make when life is busy. But busy does not have to equal thoughtless. Haven't I spent long enough being an ignorant consumer? I am terrified by the state of the world, but choosing ignorance is not going to change anything for the positive. I have choices, and like other times in my life, I can choose not to be a victim.

That's all for now...I gotta go sleep on this shit.

Just Another Manic Monday...

...and I really am wishin' it was Sunday!
A month and a half in, I am still adjusting to my life as a 9-5er (8-6er). I've been working the occasional Saturday night as well, which leaves good , ol' Sunday as my only day off. And now that Sunday night burlesque rehearsals have started up again, I am left wondering just how I could fit in more stuff, as I have been wanting to do. I know I could make the time, find the energy...but as I sit here at 7am waiting and hoping for the coffee to kick in, I am having a hard time imagining where I would get that extra time and energy from!

The good news, however, is that in the next week or two my schedule is going to open up a little more and leave me with a couple of free mornings. I'll be taking a decent cut in pay, for the moment, but right now that is a small price to pay for some much-needed time for myself. Hurrah! A yoga class is at the top of my list. Also, trying to cook on a regular basis.

Well, enough dreaming...time to slam down the rest of this coffee and be on my merry way!

Oh, hello again.

I'll write a bit every day, she says.

And suddenly a month has gone by...oops!

Ah, whatever. I've spent enough of the little time I've spent actually writing this thing going on about "should have, could have", etc, and less time actually doing it. A pattern of mine in various areas of my life, for sure. However, the more I can channel my guilt energy around this into actually doing something, the better. And on a day like today, it is easy to feel inspired to sit down in a sunny coffee shop and do some writing! Plus it is the first Sunday in three weeks that I haven't incapacitated by some form of sickness (in chronological order: huge hangover, nasty cold, vicious flu). Hooray for an entire day off, and having the health to enjoy it!

One of the main reasons I keep pushing myself to write more frequently is so that I don't just keep repeating myself on here. I mean, it's not like there are many people reading at all, but for the few that are I would rather not bore you with the same once-or-twice monthly ramble about how I should be writing more.

A couple of weeks ago I was thinking about this blog - what it is essentially about, if there is even any point in me writing it. I had a passing thought of just starting a new blog, one with a more focused topic that might be of interest to more people, and just might keep me on task a bit more. However, I concluded that this was an avoidance tactic, and while I am sure I could come up with a more specific topic to write some interesting things about, I still have a lot to say all kinds of things - and while there is a very good chance that not many people will care, I know that a lot of the things I struggle with (as a woman, as a young adult, as a performer, as a Torontonian, as a person very concerned with the state of the Earth) will resonate with someone. So basically my blog has been, and will continue to be, a glorified journal, of sorts...but one that opens up the possibility for dialogue with others, and encourages me to be honest, open, and aware of what is going on in my internal and external environment.

So, that's what I'm aiming for. That, and much more frequent posting. Beyond that I can't really say what will happen - but I hope that you'll check back from time to time to find out :)

Not exactly stage fright...

Sososososoooooo. Interesting how a movie can lead to some pretty deep and intense conversation, one that you might not expect. This is what I am reflecting on as I eat the stale popcorn left over from the movie, curious about the progression of our conversation and how it got to the point it did, and wanting to write about that (thoughts on the movie, and the conversation's progression), but what I think is more significant at this very moment is the last part of the conversation. Here, let me give you a couple of highlights:

"I think that you're a great actor and a great writer, but every time I mention it, you just kind of shrug it off"

Wait, I do? Well yeah, I guess so, since I haven't done much of anything to pursue this work any further, or to develop or even maintain my skills. Hmm....

"Do you really want to be one of those people that has to live with the fact that they didn't even try?"

What? No! Fuck no!!! That's why I moved to Toronto in the first place! That's why I decided to go to school to study theatre and performance! But have I been trying lately...???....no. So, this raises the question, what am I afraid of?

Well, rejection, obviously, that's a given in the entertainment industry. Have I been in the mood for a life of rejection lately? No. Will I ever be? Well, no, but what I realized tonight is that my other interests and passions (apart from performing) are a gift, because they can allow me to do my creative work, and do it for myself, without giving a fuck about what the rest of the world thinks. Recognition, respect, a fan base, yes, these are all fantastic things, but I am also realizing that if I do this kind of work, it will need to be on my own terms - as much as possible. I am finally, at twenty-five, starting to accept myself for the person I am, and really resisting having to change that for anyone. I also really like the idea of steady, fulfilling work...but I also know that there is a lot more I need to fulfil apart from a need for stability. I know that when I get to working as an expressive arts therapist (after a few more years of schooling), I will be nourishing that creative part of myself...but I also know that the yearning for the stage will always be within me somewhere. I think this may be part of the anxiety I've been feeling lately, in fact... a yearning screaming for attention. We'll see. I won't know for sure until I try, right? I'll try to put the excuses aside, at least for now, and allow myself to remember what it means to me to be a performer.

I'm On a Boat - or, Tired and in Lack of a Title

Sooo. I've decided to change things up a little bit. Hopefully this will be conducive to me actually writing more than twice a month. There are various factors that have contributed to my lack of blog entries, and I think that one of the big ones is that I am putting a bit too much pressure on myself to write these in-depth, eloquent, and cohesive entries...and it's not that I don't enjoy that type of writing - it is generally what I gravitate toward as a writer - but the idea of an in-depth exploration of an emotional issue is not constantly appealing. There is great value in it, but if it is stopping me from writing at all, the value goes decreases considerably.

The new goal I've set for myself is to write something every day - a little, a lot, an essay, or a random thought - and we'll see what comes from that (and yes, Martin my love, you are a big part of
my inspiration for attempting to do this!) So the topic isn't really changing, it's still not anything
really specific...it will change depending on where I am at each day. I am at a pretty interesting point in my recovery right now (see earlier posts if you don't know what I am referring to), so I am sure there will be stuff about that, but I don't want to focus on that alone. So as I said, we shall see what comes of it...and hopefully it will be interesting enough for me to get another follower or two :)
Speaking of my few-but-wonderful blog followers - I owe most of you, I think, an email - I will be getting to that soon! My apologies for the lengthy delay.

'til tomorrow,

Chantelle

New Moon, New Dreams, Old Issues

So it is 11am and I just dragged myself out of a bed, or should I say, out of the dream world. It seemed that every moment last night (and this morning) that my eyes were closed, I was dreaming. If I woke up briefly, the same dream would resume upon falling asleep again (or at least, this is what it felt like - perhaps not actually the case). At any rate, it took great effort for me to finally get out of bed, as exhausted and I was, and still am, from all of that dreaming! Exhausted and feeling as though I am still in another world (dare I say dimension?).

And what was it that all this dreaming was about? Well, there are still some big question marks, especially in terms of any cogent storyline. I do know that is that it was very busy and FULL of all kinds of people from different areas of my life. Busy and very populated dreams are the norm for me, but last night seemed to be exceptionally so. There were a few people I didn't know (this is less common for me), as well some people from work, from school, and at least one from my course at The Haven (that'd be you, Ian!). I know that what I was dreaming shortly before I woke up was centered around putting on a play, with much of the action being in the hectic pre-show time. There were scandals, and renovations, there was laundry, there was someone sneaking out wearing a tweed jacket and coming back with a tiger stripe pattern dyed in his hair. All this, and more...and not a lot I could make a connection to. Oh, and I think at one point I saw my grandfather (who passed away last April), which will be the second time this week. Hi Grandpa!

I've made an attempt to resume my (handwritten) dream journal, but now I am thinking about documenting it on here...or maybe writing it out and then including parts of it here, as a way of integrating my dreams into my life a little more, making more connections.

As for my experience of dreaming last night, it does make some sense in the context of my week. For starters, the deep connection I felt to the dream world does not surprise me, because I was involved in a special New Moon ceremony last night. It was a very powerful and spiritual experience with a small group of women and some beautiful rituals that were completely new to me. There was also some talk of dreams, and of paying closer attention to them, so I definitely think that this, plus being charged with some new energy, lead to the intense and deep dreaming I had.

In the past week I have also experienced what I first thought of as "going back into an old self", almost like a regression. Now I don't think it is so much that as it is a kind of psychosomatic way of experiencing memory. More on that later. I know that it is also old stuff that was never really resolved, and now that I am where I am with my recovery, some thingsm are starting to come back up again. I heard a quote last week that describes this place perfectly:

"You climb a hill, just to realize you are at the bottom of a mountain".

Yup. That has never made more sense to me than it does now.

And one of the best ways for me to start making my way up the mountain is to keep writing.