My Plan

My plan was to come home from class, do some laundry, work out, go to bed and get ready to work tomorrow.

That was my plan.

That's not going to happen.

My brain is not functioning on a plane that will let me really talk about what just happened in class, but just know this - it was good. It was damn good. I ripped up my throat. I have some mystery red mark on the back of my left hand. But most importantly, I affected my partner, I was effected by my partner, and I lived truthfully moment to moment. The teacher commented that I did very well trying all sorts of different tactics to get what I wanted. I kept yelling at myself in my head that I was being conversational instead of repetitive, but I don't think that was really an issue. The teacher stopped us right after there was a weird shift in the scene from hard to soft that neither of us really knew what to do with, and she told me I should have jumped on the soft impulse sooner. I was having problems identifying that it was okay to be soft (if that makes any sense) and then my partner said something first that was not soft and the teacher called her out on going back to tired old places that we'd already been. But in general...I can't even describe it. We were both there. We were both connected. We both wanted something really really really badly. We both observed and were observed. The class was laughing and afraid and excited. That was a fucking good exercise. I feel fucking great about it. And I've learned that I swear like a sailor when I get passionate about something. There was a moment when my partner was right up in my face and I had an impulse to kiss her which would have been totally hysterical and completely out of the blue so I didn't follow it, but it was there. Next time, I should. And like the teacher said, I didn't get soft very quickly (which may be a good thing for guys, but it's not what I'm going for in acting class). It bothers me that this teacher keeps seeing me be hard and mean and strong. I know I've been soft and weak and vulnerable at other times; I just don't know that she has seen it. I almost feel like I need to set up an exercise that will make me be soft, but I'm not sure how to do that. I don't know what the other person would come in with.

My whole body is alive right now. I don't know if you know what that feels like or if it even makes sense, but it is like every nerve is firing all at the same time. I'm over-stimulated and completely exhausted at the same time. My scene partner and I had to hug each other a couple of times after our exercise and I think we could have very easily collapsed into each other and fallen asleep.

And so I came home to my cat. Who is so beautiful it breaks my heart. And he has no idea why I need to hold him for a minute longer than usual. Or why I'm completely scattered as I make a giant bowl of popcorn that I'm eating in fits and spurts. And I love him so much I want to cry right now. That is my truth, right now, in this moment. I want to cry because my cat is so beautiful. Sweet jebus, I'm a crackpot.

The other exercises tonight were interesting. More engaging than some previous ones have been. They made me realize how much time we spend not saying the things we want to say or need to say. Both of the teachers in this class have encouraged us to just say it or just go there or to allow yourself to be ugly or vulnerable or scared or whatever. One of them told us to run towards the confrontations. He was also quick to tell us that this is perhaps not the best advice to follow in real life. But a couple of weeks ago, when I went to see the Swell Season, Glen Hansard told a beautiful, heartbreaking story about a woman who lost her son in the Twin Towers and he dedicated "Say It To Me Now" to her and I sobbed while he played. He played with no amplification, standing on the front edge of the stage as if his life depended on it. And he said it. He encouraged us all to say it. Just say it. And in a strange way, it makes me sad that my classmates can't make themselves just say it in the completely safe, completely imaginary world created in our classroom. If you're not going to say it there, where will you ever say it?

So here are some of my "just say its" in no particular order:

I'm annoyed with you.
I'm flattered that you would ask, but I'm really not interested.
I still have a crush on you (though it's not as strong as it was) and probably will until you get married. Which, for a second, I almost thought you were going to and I think my heart stopped.
If I could ask just one thing of you, it would be for you to be nice to me for one full day. And be nice in my general direction for one full day. No negative commentary, no snide comments, just be nice to me. Because I am a person and I do deserve that.
You know how to make me feel dumb and I don't like that, so I'm removing myself from the situation. Which hurts because you also know how to make me radiant.
I appreciate the effort, but that's not really what I'm talking about.
I love you and don't know what I would do without you. You hurt my feelings a couple weeks ago.
I really just want to be near you.
I miss you.
That's not my problem.
There are things that can be done to change it.

I wonder if my tendency to lean on the hard feelings in class has anything to do with all of the crap going on in my regular life. And if even just one of the annoying things shifted to be less annoying, if I would start to lean more towards soft feelings. I wonder.