Anyway. Being home for Christmas and New Years was a much-needed and indescribably rejuvenating blessing. I've been back in the city now for two (three?) weeks, and I'll be you-know-what-ed if I'm not working my butt off (at least much more than I did the last several months). Classes and auditions and errands and whatever else all built up to me eventually deciding to do nothing but sleep and become a vegetable one day. Of course, once that old familiar laziness started setting in, something in my brain told me I had to get off my butt and get back out there. I don't know what has reinvigorated me so, but I'm sure glad it did.
I can definitely say I'm feeling much better now than I was when I left; of course, there's plenty of time left to become redepressed. Productivity breeds contentment, though. I have been living by that creedo since returning to le grande apple.
Still. There's always more I could do. At the end of the day, I still have my mind racing, trying to analyze the steps I should take. Part of this more productive lifestyle comes from a constantly self-critiquing attitude- I'm not cutting myself any slack anymore. If I want this, I'm going to have to fight for it. It's not gonna be handed to me.
Self-critiquing comes easy when you're stepping out into unfamiliar territory. My first On-Camera acting class is a wonderful example: I cannot even articulate the mortification of watching myself up there these first few weeks. Literally all I can see are flaws. But, dadgummit, I am going to get to where I'm satisfied with myself! Enrolling in dance classes is another great scenario: My first class I went to with my friend. She failed to inform me that it was an Intermediate Level class, and they're leaping and bounding across the room like it's nothing. I had never done a dance leap in my life. But I kept going, and have now been much more properly enrolled in a beginner level (which just so you all know does not really mean beginner. We were still leaping by the end of that class. I just wasn't the only one less-than-spectacular at it.)
I sit here tonight, far past when I should have been asleep, just a bit overwhelmed. I am a blessed boy. I look around at my life, the people I know, and I feel love. And that means so much to me. Love is the foundation of a life lived well. It goes back to the home thing; to feel love is to feel a place of home. So to feel love around me is powerful. It's being at home in the world. I don't know if that makes sense. I guess the point is this: Spread the love, y'all.
Pointless post, I suppose. But there you have it. I'll just share this (not sure if I have before or not). But it's one of my favorite songs:
