Monthly Archives: April 2015

Søren Kierkegaard and weather conditions

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I suspect I am one of many who looks for and sometimes finds clarity and support and assurance that the path I’m on is  life as it should be. Poorly phrased, this. Best I can do at the moment.

Lately I’ve read some of Danish Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard’s work. A couple of  salient lines reflect some tenets in my state of mind, all to the fore now given my current life experience (going back on stage): “Personality is only ripe when a man has made the truth his own,” and, “Be that self which one truly is.”

Both guidances underscore the fierce allegiance one must have to honesty. Honesty with self. Honesty about one’s being. The unflinching or flinching capacity to accept the reality you’re in. Flinching is okay as long as you reach acceptance. Trust me; I’m a flincher from way back.

We are each our own “weather condition,” never still, always moving, always changing. Our planet, our armature, is our being. Any quest to move through our “weather conditions”absent pain, sadness, fear, confusion and so on, is doomed. It’s simply not possible. Those “weather conditions” along with delicious ones like love, joy, laughter, wonder, ecstasy, and so on are all part of  life – and that’s okay. It’s as it should be. The sooner one recognizes one’s very being is (unless one seeks confirmation of one’s worth in the “weather conditions” of others) is the fountain of self, the freer we are to live, to be. And was not Oscar Wilde right when he said, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken?”

Far too many of us, me too for a time, rely on the  “weather conditions” of others for our sense of value and worth. That’s like leaning on smoke and hoping not to fall.

Don’t fall. Be.

Søren Kierkegaard and weather conditions

Posted on by
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I suspect I am one of many who looks for and sometimes finds clarity and support and assurance that the path I’m on is  life as it should be. Poorly phrased, this. Best I can do at the moment.

Lately I’ve read some of Danish Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard’s work. A couple of  salient lines reflect some tenets in my state of mind, all to the fore now given my current life experience (going back on stage): “Personality is only ripe when a man has made the truth his own,” and, “Be that self which one truly is.”

Both guidances underscore the fierce allegiance one must have to honesty. Honesty with self. Honesty about one’s being. The unflinching or flinching capacity to accept the reality you’re in. Flinching is okay as long as you reach acceptance. Trust me; I’m a flincher from way back.

We are each our own “weather condition,” never still, always moving, always changing. Our planet, our armature, is our being. Any quest to move through our “weather conditions”absent pain, sadness, fear, confusion and so on, is doomed. It’s simply not possible. Those “weather conditions” along with delicious ones like love, joy, laughter, wonder, ecstasy, and so on are all part of  life – and that’s okay. It’s as it should be. The sooner one recognizes one’s very being is (unless one seeks confirmation of one’s worth in the “weather conditions” of others) is the fountain of self, the freer we are to live, to be. And was not Oscar Wilde right when he said, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken?”

Far too many of us, me too for a time, rely on the  “weather conditions” of others for our sense of value and worth. That’s like leaning on smoke and hoping not to fall.

Don’t fall. Be.

Confessions of a Goofball – April 21, 2015

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On or about the time I moved Massachusetts someone I love and care about called me a Goofball April 2015goofball. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed being called a name as much as I enjoyed being called a goofball. 

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines goofball, in part, as one who is “silly”  and defines goofy as “being crazy, ridiculous, or mildly ludicrous : silly <a goofy sense of humor>.”  Guilty on all fronts, particularly that last part about having a goofy sense of humor.

I am firm in the belief that a sense of humor – even a goofy one! – is a sibling of courage. I know no one who is functioning well in life after taking some of life’s more formidable beatings who does not have a sense of humor.

These past three years the goofball part of me has seen a lot of action. First, I was determined to give community life another go when I moved here. Ever since the shooting – I was held up and shot in the head in 1984 – and the attending brain damage and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) that ensued, living in isolated fashion has been my preference.

Re-entering community life has at times been terrifying. The thing is, each time I’ve climbed over or broken through a “fear wall” I am always glad I did. Now, three years since my arrival in Berkshire County I am more involved in community life than I thought was possible, for me. So much so that I find myself in rehearsals for a play by Samuel D. Hunter called “A Bright New Boise” produced by Mill City Productions.

Returning to the stage for me has, in more ways than I ever imagined, brought a large part of me back to life. I danced with the Joffrey Ballet years ago and was a member of the Quena Acting Company, an offshoot of Joseph Chaikin’s, The Open Theatre. By returning to the stage I’ve reclaimed a cherished part of life. Last night as we arrived for rehearsal the house lights were down and the stage lights were lit, the set well on its way to completion. There’s magic in them there lights.

When I got home last night I danced around the house with Charley, my black-lab mix, doing a rather admirable job of following suit. He’s a goofball too. Once a goofball always a goofball.

I’d have it no other way. 

Confessions of a Goofball – April 21, 2015

Posted on by
1

On or about the time I moved Massachusetts someone I love and care about called me a Goofball April 2015goofball. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed being called a name as much as I enjoyed being called a goofball. 

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines goofball, in part, as one who is “silly”  and defines goofy as “being crazy, ridiculous, or mildly ludicrous : silly <a goofy sense of humor>.”  Guilty on all fronts, particularly that last part about having a goofy sense of humor.

I am firm in the belief that a sense of humor – even a goofy one! – is a sibling of courage. I know no one who is functioning well in life after taking some of life’s more formidable beatings who does not have a sense of humor.

These past three years the goofball part of me has seen a lot of action. First, I was determined to give community life another go when I moved here. Ever since the shooting – I was held up and shot in the head in 1984 – and the attending brain damage and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) that ensued, living in isolated fashion has been my preference.

Re-entering community life has at times been terrifying. The thing is, each time I’ve climbed over or broken through a “fear wall” I am always glad I did. Now, three years since my arrival in Berkshire County I am more involved in community life than I thought was possible, for me. So much so that I find myself in rehearsals for a play by Samuel D. Hunter called “A Bright New Boise” produced by Mill City Productions.

Returning to the stage for me has, in more ways than I ever imagined, brought a large part of me back to life. I danced with the Joffrey Ballet years ago and was a member of the Quena Acting Company, an offshoot of Joseph Chaikin’s, The Open Theatre. By returning to the stage I’ve reclaimed a cherished part of life. Last night as we arrived for rehearsal the house lights were down and the stage lights were lit, the set well on its way to completion. There’s magic in them there lights.

When I got home last night I danced around the house with Charley, my black-lab mix, doing a rather admirable job of following suit. He’s a goofball too. Once a goofball always a goofball.

I’d have it no other way.