Saturday, August 25, 2018
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
How Apropos
Before the parade passes by
I've gotta go and taste Saturday's high life
Before the parade passes by
I've gotta get some life back into my life
I'm ready to move out in front
I've had enough of just passing by life
With the rest of them
With the best of them
I've gotta go and taste Saturday's high life
Before the parade passes by
I've gotta get some life back into my life
I'm ready to move out in front
I've had enough of just passing by life
With the rest of them
With the best of them
I can hold my head up high
For I've got a goal again
I've got a drive again
I wanna feel my heart coming alive again
Before the parade passes by.
For I've got a goal again
I've got a drive again
I wanna feel my heart coming alive again
Before the parade passes by.
Sunday, August 12, 2018
A Show to Go.... (in other words, current Broadway To-See List)
1. (Still have not seen and still dying to see) Dear Evan Hanson. Yeah yeah, I know what's his face Ben whoever is not in it anymore and it is about suicide and stuff but definitely still a must-put-on-have-seen-list-ASAP. Well, maybe not ASAP but eventaully.
2. Summer. My cake pops have not melted and I do love me some Donna Summer, however cheesy or cliche this what-looks-to-be-flamboyant musical appears to be. A definite must see.
3. Mean Girls. Cause, obvi. How could I NOT want to see it?
4. Phantom of the Opera. Yep, still on Broadway, in fact adjacent to the Hello Dolly theater, still a classic favorite and still on my to-see-for-fourth-time list.
5. Hello Dolly. My love for Bette Midler is obviously limitless and as such, thereby so is the number of times I would like to see her divinity in this show. Hellloooooooo Bette.
6. Hamilton. I meeeeaaaan, frankly, despite shocked reactions, this has never been #1, (well, or #2) on my to-see list, and without Mr. Manuel in it these days, it still frankly, still isn't. But, I wouldn't, like, complain if someone handed me a ticket. You know, I'd go. ;)
Since Three Tall Women closed (sheds tear), this brings my list to a close, at least for now. Until I have some Broadway news, reviews, or muses (sort of rhymes right?), stay well, be true and be you.
With Broadway lights,
Rach
Friday, August 10, 2018
Living for This
https://www.goodmorningamerica.com/news/video/bette-midler-returned-dolly-57129993
Love youuuuuuuuu, Bette.
Morning Musing
It is not for others to judge relationships, whether friend, romantic, professional or otherwise. There are elements of every relationship that only those within it can know, truly understand. Cliche bliche but...just as it is not fair to judge until you walk a mile, run a 5K or stroll a block in another person's shoes, such is the same to assign judgment to another's relationship. It is not right to deign to assign judgement or understand a relationship external to you (and by you, I mean one), in the absence of being in it. It is not fair but more so, impossible.
To feel all the feels (thanks for the phrase, A) in a person to person relationship, you simply must be in it. What happens between two people, again regardless of the dynamic between them, can only be known to those people. Obviously, I speak from the experience of having an "external" (let's use that term) individual assign judgment to one of my personal relationships. And let me tell you, Bunnies, that does not feel good. Understatement of the, er, quarter.
I will keep this morning's musing brief, as that is really the bulk of my conveyance right now. A gentle reminder of sorts. A kind of musing. A human observation from the inside, the outside and all the spaces between. If you don't understand something in full, that is okay, but better to not pretend to do so. Pretending to fully grasp anything when you in fact do not, in this matter, a human relationship, leads to unnecessary and oftentimes erroneous judgments, hurt feelings, injurious words and at the end of the proverbial day, avoided confrontations. If you're outside of something, try to remain there. If you're inside of it, well, stay put if and when you ascertain it's best to do so.
It is okay not to decide where to stay right this second, just remember what has been, what is now, what is true and what is you. All the rest can come later.
That is all I know that is true...this morning.
❤︎Rachel❤︎
*Post note of apology for vagueness utilized in this post. Sometimes a little vagueness goes a long way.
To feel all the feels (thanks for the phrase, A) in a person to person relationship, you simply must be in it. What happens between two people, again regardless of the dynamic between them, can only be known to those people. Obviously, I speak from the experience of having an "external" (let's use that term) individual assign judgment to one of my personal relationships. And let me tell you, Bunnies, that does not feel good. Understatement of the, er, quarter.
I will keep this morning's musing brief, as that is really the bulk of my conveyance right now. A gentle reminder of sorts. A kind of musing. A human observation from the inside, the outside and all the spaces between. If you don't understand something in full, that is okay, but better to not pretend to do so. Pretending to fully grasp anything when you in fact do not, in this matter, a human relationship, leads to unnecessary and oftentimes erroneous judgments, hurt feelings, injurious words and at the end of the proverbial day, avoided confrontations. If you're outside of something, try to remain there. If you're inside of it, well, stay put if and when you ascertain it's best to do so.
It is okay not to decide where to stay right this second, just remember what has been, what is now, what is true and what is you. All the rest can come later.
That is all I know that is true...this morning.
❤︎Rachel❤︎
*Post note of apology for vagueness utilized in this post. Sometimes a little vagueness goes a long way.
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
No title
I have said it before and I'll say it again. Some people walk into our lives with blatant purpose; we know why they are there, how they got there, their purpose and place. They are fixtures of which we are aware and accustomed to having around.
Other people, though, whether phaseful friends (as I like to call them), acquaintances, teachers, peers, therapists, or...well, I am going to stop there. Therapists. Sometimes therapists can grace our lives like the gentlest breezes as spring just approaches in the weeks after the last winter storm. Other times, they fall down hard and crush the edges of our soft lives, smashing them into little shards of glasses and pieces of rough crumbly dust. Wipe it up or you'll slip. Other therapists fall somewhere between a breeze and a layer of sodered dust...and others nowhere even close to those places or resembling those perhaps inane-to-you metaphors.
Just a few months ago (as an insert, it is nearly impossible to believe the recent lapse of time in my life was a sheerly long three months, for it seems a lifetime and also a moment at the same time, you'll note my intended and obvious oxymoronical phrasings here), a therapist graced my presence who forever changed the trajectory of the rest of however many my days shall be. I came to know her by sheer coincidence, luck if you will, grace if you may, whatever beautiful words feel right, just use those. Whatever the words, the outcome was the same. I met her, had the firm and oftentimes outright emotionally volatile, and other times, soft and nurturing pleasure of working with her. When I try to describe Alanna as a therapist to others, the words never seem right, never enough, never amply illustrative of her nature. "Well, she is bright, intuitive, understands without asking too many questions...". I would aggravate myself by not doing justice to her what-seemed-to-be-innate ability as a therapist to heal and put back together those patients who so desperately need put-back-together-ness. "She gets it." But the words are just simply never enough.
We are all born with "stuff." Genes are scientifically incredible and they are a real goddamn bitch, too. For me, they're a huge moody bitch. Goddamn you, genes. But they're mine. I have genes for which I have a love-hate relationship, and because of this, I have been cursed, lucky, blessed, and all of that, to come in contact with many a therapist in my seemingly long proverbial day. Alanna took any therapist I ever met and placed them over there. Just right over there. In a different bucket. This bucket is not bad but it is not "the" bucket. Alanna saw right through my pale green complexion and into my soul the first time we met. "Let us not fast forward but let us sit here now and feel our discomfort right here, right now together." I believe this is one of the first things we did together...feel my discomfort together, rather than me alone. I let Alanna hold some of it for me then, and for the next few months, as well. Yes, I worked harder than I ever thought possible, but I would not be sitting here not had I not shared some of it with her. Alanna lectured me, and offered me tissue to dry my raining lids, she praised me and slapped my proverbial hand and back and forth and around again. At the end of the day and at the end of the stay, what I gained (please, no puns here) was invaluable, indescribable and I am certain unparalleled to anything I will find again.
Tonight, I feel profoundly sad at the gaping hole in my heart left by Alanna's absence. My heart hurts. It aches. I am grateful for the connection, the blessing of a presence that did come into my life like a breeze and left like a quick warm sun shower, and yet, I am deeply sad.
Thank you for your wisdom, your firmness, values, anecdotes, tissues, lessons and sessions, Alanna, Thank you for everything, and like you said, it is not and was not goodbye but so long for now.
Serenity then, there, now and here.
With light,
Rach
Other people, though, whether phaseful friends (as I like to call them), acquaintances, teachers, peers, therapists, or...well, I am going to stop there. Therapists. Sometimes therapists can grace our lives like the gentlest breezes as spring just approaches in the weeks after the last winter storm. Other times, they fall down hard and crush the edges of our soft lives, smashing them into little shards of glasses and pieces of rough crumbly dust. Wipe it up or you'll slip. Other therapists fall somewhere between a breeze and a layer of sodered dust...and others nowhere even close to those places or resembling those perhaps inane-to-you metaphors.
Just a few months ago (as an insert, it is nearly impossible to believe the recent lapse of time in my life was a sheerly long three months, for it seems a lifetime and also a moment at the same time, you'll note my intended and obvious oxymoronical phrasings here), a therapist graced my presence who forever changed the trajectory of the rest of however many my days shall be. I came to know her by sheer coincidence, luck if you will, grace if you may, whatever beautiful words feel right, just use those. Whatever the words, the outcome was the same. I met her, had the firm and oftentimes outright emotionally volatile, and other times, soft and nurturing pleasure of working with her. When I try to describe Alanna as a therapist to others, the words never seem right, never enough, never amply illustrative of her nature. "Well, she is bright, intuitive, understands without asking too many questions...". I would aggravate myself by not doing justice to her what-seemed-to-be-innate ability as a therapist to heal and put back together those patients who so desperately need put-back-together-ness. "She gets it." But the words are just simply never enough.
We are all born with "stuff." Genes are scientifically incredible and they are a real goddamn bitch, too. For me, they're a huge moody bitch. Goddamn you, genes. But they're mine. I have genes for which I have a love-hate relationship, and because of this, I have been cursed, lucky, blessed, and all of that, to come in contact with many a therapist in my seemingly long proverbial day. Alanna took any therapist I ever met and placed them over there. Just right over there. In a different bucket. This bucket is not bad but it is not "the" bucket. Alanna saw right through my pale green complexion and into my soul the first time we met. "Let us not fast forward but let us sit here now and feel our discomfort right here, right now together." I believe this is one of the first things we did together...feel my discomfort together, rather than me alone. I let Alanna hold some of it for me then, and for the next few months, as well. Yes, I worked harder than I ever thought possible, but I would not be sitting here not had I not shared some of it with her. Alanna lectured me, and offered me tissue to dry my raining lids, she praised me and slapped my proverbial hand and back and forth and around again. At the end of the day and at the end of the stay, what I gained (please, no puns here) was invaluable, indescribable and I am certain unparalleled to anything I will find again.
Tonight, I feel profoundly sad at the gaping hole in my heart left by Alanna's absence. My heart hurts. It aches. I am grateful for the connection, the blessing of a presence that did come into my life like a breeze and left like a quick warm sun shower, and yet, I am deeply sad.
Thank you for your wisdom, your firmness, values, anecdotes, tissues, lessons and sessions, Alanna, Thank you for everything, and like you said, it is not and was not goodbye but so long for now.
Serenity then, there, now and here.
With light,
Rach
Monday, August 6, 2018
No Dismay at Disobedience
But let me not digress too early on.
Last evening I had the sheer pleasure of watching the absolutely wonderful film, Disobedience. My enjoyment of this film stemmed not only from the fact that both Rachels' (Ms. McAdams and Ms. Weisz) acting skills were superb nor the sole fact that I related to the Jewish community aspect nor the fact that the main story plot revolved around two women forbiddenly in love. My enjoyment and rave review of this film did stem from all these factors along with more.
The plot and film follows a woman, Ronit Krushka (Ms. Weisz), back to her childhood home in an Orthodox Jewish community in England, following the death of her father, the praised town rabbi. Ronit has not been back since her earlier childhood days, during which she and a female friend, Esti (Ms. McAdams) shared a young forbidden romantic relationship. Ronit was shunned from her community for the frowned upon forbidden relationship and had not since returned.
Little to Ronit's knowledge during her time away, Esti married their other third "best friend" of sorts, Dovid Kuperman. The learning of this unforeseen marriage hits Ronit head on in the face when she walks into the Shiva house to pay respects to her recently deceased father. "Who is Dovid's wife?" Ronit muses at first and upon learning the answer is Esti, her musing immediately ceases.
The nearly two hour film follows the days of the Rav's funeral in the community, the still-very-present passion and love between Ronit and Esti and the constant Esti-is-a-married-religious-lady-reminder of just how very "wrong" is the attraction between the two.
The film is shot with deeply human frames, slow and close camera angles (I am certain not done in vain given Ronit's photography profession), deep interpersonal connections that leap from the screen into the chest, and acting hard to surpass. No matter your religious beliefs, affiliations, sexual preferences or comfort level, this is definitely a film for the ages and one not to miss.
A+.
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