I woke up yesterday morning completely rattled and in a panic. I’d forgotten all my lines for my big scene in the musical production of “CATS” that I was performing in, and my mind was drawing a complete blank. I didn’t know what I was going to do! I couldn’t remember a single line of the song or any dialogue. I was in big trouble and was going to ruin the whole show.
I was fine through the opening number, singing and dancing my little heart out along side my castmates, the booming spotlights following our every spectacular move. Because of the lights, I couldn’t see the audience, but I knew they were out there, marvelling at my ability to transform my human self into a ferocious feline.
When the last note of the first scene ended and I scampered off stage, everything became a blur. I forgot where I was supposed to go. I forgot what I was supposed to do. It was full out panic. I ran, coughing and gagging up a couple of hair balls (because that’s what cats do), to the table where my teacher, Mrs. Z was sitting and just stared at her in complete horror and embarrassment.
“I’ve forgotten all my lines.”
“What do you mean you’ve forgotten all your lines?”
“I mean, I can’t remember a single thing I’m supposed to sing! What am I going to do?”
Just then, Chris Lloyd-Smith, the lead in the show (he was always the lead in the shows because he just had that star quality that Mrs. Z liked and she did all the casting) walked past the table wearing a fluffy yellow onesie with a hood and feet.
What the hell was happening? Why was he dressed like a duck? This was a musical about cats for crying out loud! CATS! Not ducks! CATS! And what the hell is the song I’m supposed to sing in five minutes!
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary save me from this nightmare!
Then, it hit me.
I am not in a production of CATS. I have never even auditioned for a role in CATS. In fact, I don’t even like cats in general. They are sneaky, sly, and never upfront about their intentions. And they stare at you – a deeply mocking stare, the kind that makes you rush to a mirror to make sure you don’t have jam on your face or anything.
And Mrs. Z? She was my teacher from Grade 4 to Grade 8. I have not seen her since we had a class reunion party at Tavia’s house when we were all 19. She showed up, and it was great to see her but also a little awkward since the majority of us were pretty much vomiting over the back-deck railing into a snowbank. Damn Peach Schnapps. That stuff will get you every time.
And that party is also the last time I’ve seen Chris Llyod-Smith. The part about him always getting one of the lead roles is true. He was Oliver in our Grade 5 production of “Oliver Twist” and Watson in our Grade 8 production of “Sherlock Holmes”. No sour grapes though, he was awesome and never forgot his lines, unlike the person who played the Russian Countess. That was me and I did – I completely blanked out in the middle of our scene. Thank God Chris covered for me. I think I was too busy concentrating (having fun and goofing around) on getting my accent down right in rehearsals to bother learning what I was actually supposed to recite on stage.
Then again, I’ve always been more of a “shoot from the hip, I’m just going to wing it and say whatever pops into my head” kind of girl, so it’s a good thing I never took the route of going into show business and becoming an actor. I’m fine with never winning an Oscar or a Tony or an Emmy, although I have prepared and recited my acceptance speech several times (okay more times than I should probably admit in writing) in front of the bathroom mirror.
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it! Thank you to the Academy! This is such a surprise! So unexpected! I thought for sure Meryl would win again! I’d like to thank my friends and family, and especially Chris Lloyd-Smith in Grade 8 for covering for me on stage and making it look like he had forgotten his lines and not me! And to Mrs. Z who always cast me in rolls where the character was a little offbeat and had to talk in some crazy ass accent (not a word of a lie here, she was onto something). I would have never gotten this far with out you!”
I won’t bore you with the full text of my speech but rest assured, it’s awesome. My impeccable comedic talents would make everyone laugh hysterically, and of course by the end, my gut-wrenching honesty and gratitude would have everyone weeping like babies. Like babies. Like I said, I’ve been working on it for a while now. It’s straight from the heart. Straight. From. The. Heart.
So why in the hell was I dreaming that I was twelve years old and in an elementary school production of CATS? How should I know? All I know is that I woke up with a sore jaw from clenching my teeth because I was so stressed out about forgetting my lines. It’s crazy how the brain works and makes associations, but I have no idea why “CATS”? The “Sound of Music” I can see or the Broadway production of “Grease”, absolutely, but “CATS”? I mean, I saw a cat sauntering along the sidewalk earlier that day, but it wasn’t singing or dancing. And I have no idea still why Chris was dressed like a fluffy yellow chick.
This is how my mind works. This is how all of our minds work in the subconscious. Brains are constantly taking everything in. What we see, what we do, how we feel about certain things and how we react.
In my case, every last tid bit of information or sensory experience gets stored away like little file folders in my memory. Then, when there is some sort of association that happens in my day, sure as hell, that little file folder opens while I’m sleeping, and I dream about it. Granted, sometimes my brain opens a few folders at once and I get these fantastical dreams that mix snippets of experiences from several stages in my life. It’s all a bit crazy but kind of cool too.
When I start having these types of dreams on a consistent basis, and my imagination is going wild in my subconscious, I know that I’m in a good mental space in my life. I know that my stress levels are super low and I’m in a calm, peaceful place. It’s a good place to be, especially when you haven’t visited that place for a very long time.
By the intensity of the craziness of my dreams lately, I know that I’m not just here to have a quick drink and then be off. My mind is telling me to put on a large pot of coffee and settle in for awhile. Maybe even unpack my suitcase and hang my housecoat on the back of the bathroom door.
It’s hard to explain, but I just get a feeling deep in my bones. My stomach gets a bit butterfliey (yes, I just made that word up) and I even get a bit twitchy in my fingers, like there is some sort of force that’s sparking through my veins, not yet pulsing, but sparking, like it’s just getting ready to rumble.
I’ve had this feeling before. Lot’s of times actually. I get it every time I stumble onto a new idea or a new creative adventure I’m thinking of embarking on. It’s very real and I listen to it intensely. It does not like to be ignored. Trust me, I’ve tried to ignore it in the past, but it never works. It gets angry and usually gives me a good bout of diarrhea as punishment. So now I listen. Every time.
I listen to my gut because it always knows what’s best for me. It’s friends with my heart and my brain, and together the three of them take pretty good care of me. Sometimes my brain will get in the way, be a bit bossy and try and take control and “be the leader”, but my gut will counter with more diarrhea, and honestly, there’s only so much diarrhea one can take, so I tell my brain to screw off and settle down.
The point is, listen to your gut. Listen to your heart. Listen to your brain, your imagination. Listen to all of it. Take what you need from each but don’t let one overpower the other. We are the only ones that can hear what ourselves are saying, and too often we discount what “we” are saying and instead believe what others are saying about us or for us.
“You want to be a writer? They don’t make any money. Better to get a real job.”
“Well that’s just a dumb idea. It won’t work.”
“You want to do what? Are you crazy?”
“You’ll never fit in. People will laugh at you.”
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I’m all for external motivation, I do it everyday in my job, but external motivation can only get you so far. The real deal is intrinsic motivation – that ability to motivate yourself because you really want something, not for anyone else, but for you.
You have to be the driver in your life. You have to want things for yourself. You have to believe that you deserve to live the life that you want to live. If you keep waiting for someone else to give you permission to be the person that you know you can be or live the life that you want to live, then my friend, you’re going to be waiting a very long time, perhaps forever. It is not selfish. It is never selfish to want things for yourself.
The whole of your body is constantly giving you signals as to which direction it wants to go. Which direction you need to go. Your job is to listen to it. Feel it. Open your mind to the possibilities it’s throwing your way because it is constantly throwing possibilities and potentialities your way.
Most of us just spend the majority of our lives ignoring them, thinking there’s “no way” we could “ever” do that or “be” that or take on this or that challenge. We don’t give ourselves enough credit. We don’t give our biology and our physiology enough credit. It’s kept us alive this long, so maybe we should start taking its signals more seriously.
Personally, I feel the tide shifting in me. I know that I’m on the cusp of a great new adventure. The engine is sparking but I just need to gather a few more belongings to throw in my suitcase before I rip it into full gear. I’m not taking an overnight bag on this trip because I intend to stay here for a good long while. Maybe even throw down some roots.
I have a good idea where my adventure will begin but no clue the path it will take me on the way. None of us do, that’s the beauty of just listening to yourself and giving in to the forces of your own nature.
If you feel it in your soul, go for it. If you feel it in your heart, go for it. If you feel it in your gut, go for it. If you feel it in all three at the very same time, then do not waste another moment because the universe is practically screaming at you!
Just take that first step. Don’t wait a minute longer. Find that motivation from within, pack your suitcase, and get going.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I just thought of something I need to add to my acceptance speech.
Let the adventure begin…
Copyright 2024 Trish Faber