Ask

“Ask for what you want, 100% of the time.” I read this in the Olympia newspaper, when I was stuck in a bog and didn’t know it, almost two decades ago.

But first you have to know what you want, which isn’t always easy to figure out for a variety of reasons. The Thinking has talked me into so many “reasonable” things. Visiting the ocean quarterly is enough. You need a job – doesn’t matter if it’s not a good fit. Stay where you are, this is the best you can expect. You’re lucky s/he loves you. And out of so much pleasure: Your art isn’t good enough, keep it to yourself. Surfing is for boys. Sailboats are for rich people.

Fortunately, I became deathly ill and fled the old life. Remembered to choose joy, and move toward what feels good. Not gonna die inland. Creating art is good enough for me and makes me happy. The ocean, and all the ways to enjoy it, is for everybody, and completely necessary to my well-being.

Rinse. Repeat.

I became an actor because it was fun. Pretend to be someone else with the full range of emotions? Yes! I moved back to Los Angeles after making a few independent films in San Francisco (Dirty Laundry, Into the Guessed At, Manmade Road), and joined all the other starlets making the rounds in Hollywood. The industry eventually wore me down, and I lost my joie de vivre. Joined the Prozac Nation (but don’t admit that to a studio doctor). I agreed to nude scenes and wondered why I was suicidal.

Luckily Terpsichore jostled me awake, and I joined a troupe of modern dancers, then a ballet folklorico company. This, despite the obnoxiously loud Not-Good-Enoughs. Who are these Not-Good-Enoughs? What the hell do they care what I do or think or say? Inherited, mostly, which is sad.

But there is something inside me that refuses to listen, and struggles to the surface again and again and again. And when I have enough quiet solitude, I know what to do and when to do it.

So when the urge to go ashore nudged me yesterday – 10 days after the last foray – I got ready to go. No PLN, just, “Hey Ancestors, I’d really like fresh fruit and other comestibles. How will this happen?” I looked at Audrey, but had no desire to unwrap her deck lashings, insert the seat and grocery bags and ice chest and garbage/recycling, then paddle miles to land. But the nudge continued. So preparations continued. I waited in the cockpit. See a speck in the distance, slowly growing larger. A panga with three amenable guys. “Of course we can take you to shore!”

Holy moly, the Ancestors are quick. Such a simple thing to do – ask for what I want – but so easily forgotten. I am not alone out here. I am connected to the web of Life, the universe of God. Fear is a liar – always, always question her. (But pay attention to the message.) 

I am not stuck. Not ever.