The Performance of Ghost Hunting Part I

This is a two-part post about my studies into the relationship between performance and the act of ghost hunting.

A performance is typically defined as an event where there is someone who is presenting something, and there are a group of people observing. This definition of performance is not limited to only theatres or television and movies. A performance can take place at nearly any time of day at any kind of location. Performances can happen at school with the popular crowd, and they can happen at ghost hunts. Scholars have written thousands of book on performance studies and there are even degrees dedicated to the discipline. As a society that is ever growing and changing on a regular basis, there are so many different types of performances out there that appease almost every person out there. From traditional musicals that warm the heart, to the heart-wrenching dramas that influence someone to call their mother to tell them they love her, to the soul shattering avant-garde performance that makes you analyze what it means to be human….performance is an essential part of our existence that is necessary in order for us to survive and thrive.

Before we dive into the performance of ghost hunting, let us take a moment to consider the relationship between performance and spirituality. The earliest roots in theatre lie in ancient Greece in something called, “ritual reenactment”. Back before theatre and performance was established, the ancient Greeks wanted to honor the gods by telling stories of their greatness. This initially began as “oral tradition” where someone would dramatically tell stories of the gods, with an audience watching. The audience would then become performers themselves and spreading the stories around like wildfire. With ritual reenactment, these early performances including singing hymns and performing some kind of movement.

To keep this along the lines of being the abridged version, the villages and tribes began to compete with each other by adding costumes, live music, and written texts in their performances for the gods. One could argue that the original audiences were the gods, and the transition from performing for them to performing to fellow humans was one of the breakthrough moments in the creation of live theatre. Overall, theatre is a very spiritual experience, which the philosopher Aristotle argued that it was needed for the purposes of catharsis, meaning the purging of emotions. If you have ever cried during a movie, you had a cathartic experience. Catharsis was seen as a necessity for cleansing the soul.

With the thought in mind that theatre was originally intended to be spiritual and for the gods as a gift, is it a surprise that there are rumors about theatres being haunted in the first place. Some of my favorite cliché ghost stories come from the urban legend of haunted theatres from the spurned woman in white who lost her chance to be on the stage to the Macbeth curse causing shenanigans in each production, there is a strong connection there. Until the media came into existence with television and film, theatre was the vehicle for expressing society’s belief in the paranormal, and you can watch that belief evolve over time by just analyzing the plays from each time period.

I suppose that the title of this article can be misleading, as it is not an article on how to perform a paranormal investigation or ghost hunt, there are enough of those books out there on the market. Instead, it is a venture into a theory that theatre people, whether they are actors, tenant, directors, dancers, etc. they are inadvertently capturing the attention of the ghosts and causing a performance from both the living and the dead. Artistic people are interesting enough on their own, and I would not be surprised if a ghost chose to attempt communication with an artistic person over someone whose not. I will say that artists are very open-minded to the world around. Could they be lifting a psychic wall around them and making them more vulnerable to having some sort of communication with the other side? If you were dead, and you couldn’t find a way to communicate with the living, and you found someone who could hear you, wouldn’t you do whatever you could muster up to catch their attention? The answer is probably yes. But this isn’t a performance. That is the lost seeking out a solution. When the situation is reversed, and there is someone trying to communicate with a deceased person, the ghost isn’t able to communicate in the way that they used to in life, so they have to pull out the dramatic displays in order to get their point across. I would imagine that this is an extremely frustrating endeavor.

The most obvious example of performances in ghost hunting is in paranormal reality shows that became increasingly popular in the early 21st century. It is a far cry from ritual reenactment and the once cathartic experience that was the performance space. I think perhaps the reason why for this widespread popularity was the fact that the paranormal is an unknown area of knowledge. You can’t get a college degree in paranormal studies and many people who do come forward with experiences in the public eye are portrayed as being insane and not to be taken seriously. At the end of the day, these production companies need to make money. You make money by drawing in an audience, and you keep that audience by continuing to make your show entertaining. I won’t say that the “paratainment” business has sullied the investigation field, but instead, has brought exposure to the paranormal and hopefully making people more open-minded about the existence of ghosts. In the last ten years, there has also been a dramatic rise in the number of ghost tours at numerous haunted locations, where a group of people will go ghost hunting for a night while locked in a building with a guide. The paranormal reached a new height when it came to monetizing the potential interactions with the dead, which many people pay big money for. But because the factor of money is now included in the experience, I have to wonder if along with tickets being paid, if there was an expectation of goods to be delivered (such as a paranormal experience). In turn, does this turn ghosts into entertainers? And if so, what does this mean for the ghosts at the Tenth should Jeff decide to move forward with the guided ghost tours?

I would like to say that my investigations and research into the building have not subjected the ghosts into being put into a situation where they are being asked to perform tricks, since I don’t expect them to ever perform for me. If they choose not to communicate, while I may be disappointed, I acknowledge that it is their right to not talk. But another researcher from the outside looking in may have a different opinion. Where is that fine line between requesting communication and asking the ghosts to essentially perform tricks? I suppose that it is all in the eye of the beholder and the ghosts that are being placed in that situation. If you were to ask me what my long-term goal was for the Tenth, it would be that someday the most prestigious researchers in the paranormal and psychic phenomenon visit the Tenth. It would be great to be able to secure the building for a weekend (at the very least) and let these researchers loose in the building and see what comes of it.

Performers, in terms of actors, dancers, musicians, and artists, seem to be completely different people compared to business professionals or those who don’t consider themselves to be artistically minded. For example, let us go back to the Ganzfeld experiment, which is the sensory deprivation experiment that leads to the altered state of consciousness. There was a study conducted in 1992 where the American Society for Psychical Research used twenty of the most gifted students from the Julliard School in New York City and put them through the sender-receiver experiment. The results were extraordinary because there was a success rate of 50%, which was double the success expectation rate. The facilitators of the experiment, Charles Honorton and Marilyn Schlitz then used eight musicians for the remainder of the experiment. Six out of the eight students either had direct hits or a 75% success rate. Again, these are extraordinary results. The theory behind this success rate was due to the participants; especially the musicians have a dissociated state of mind. Very much like meditation, being dissociated is very much like the feeling of being on autopilot and disconnecting from the outside word. According to John G. Kruth, the executive director of the Rhine Research Center, jazz musicians who often improvise their music will go into this state as they play, channeling the environment around them as they make up their own tune. What would happen if we allowed a bunch of actors to go in and ghost hunt for a night? What kind of results would come up from the night? If we go by the results of the study of the Julliard students and the Ganzfeld experiment, it seems as though there could be potential of a productive interaction with the ghosts.

Ready for more? Here’s Part II.

Repression is a Funny Thing

fake-smileIt’s been about 6 or so weeks since my mother died, and I’m already back to my usual activities; work, writing, radio, etc. Am I ready to be back? I don’t know. All I know is my bills have to be paid, kitties need to be fed, and I have to keep a roof over my head. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury to take a lot of time off from my job(s) or commitments at the moment, which means I’ve had to repress much of my grief. If the tears come while I’m in public, I’ve had to find a way to repress them and stop them from flowing. I have to keep a happy persona at all times when on the clock, lest I offend someone or I do something wrong that can jeopardize my job. In doing all of this, I’ve realized that I’m starting to dehumanize myself. The tears are inconvenient, but when there is a convenient time, I can’t get myself to cry. In fact, I can’t get myself to feel anything anymore, sometimes neither positive or negative. That honestly scares me. I don’t feel like I can grieve anymore, and I have to shut myself off. There’s still so much that has to be done in wrapping up my mother’s affairs that I can’t afford to stop and cry, or I’ll lose time. I’ll lose the ability to get done what has to get done.

The result of my actions has led me to become extraordinarily exhausted. I feel like I’ve sprinted a 10K (I’ve actually run a 10K in my life, so I know how exhausting they can be), and my brain can’t function. All I can do is stay in bed all day. Then my apartment gets neglected, litter boxes aren’t changed, there’s no food in the fridge, and my writing doesn’t get done. How are we able to function while we’re grieving the death of a parent?

Any emotions I do feel are anger. If I didn’t get ill, I wouldn’t have had to take an unpaid leave of absence, and I could have spent one last Thanksgiving and Christmas with my mom. The last holiday I spent with my mom was Easter of 2014. I honestly now resent all those circumstances because it robbed me of precious times with my mother. Anger and numbness. That is my life right now. And I feel so powerless and helpless in trying to change that because I keep repressing.

Honestly? I’m scared that this will be my life from now on. And I no longer have the support of my mother because…well, she’s dead. I used to talk to her about all of these issues. She would bring me back to reality after listening to my problems because she was the one who knew me best. I don’t have that….I don’t have that. I. DON’T. HAVE. THAT. ANYMORE.

The Moment My Life Shattered

My beautiful mother, 11/10/1957-1/30/2015
My beautiful mother, 11/10/1957-1/30/2015

This is a blog that I thought I would never need to write. In fact, this is something I never wanted to face.

On Friday, January 30th, a friend of my mom’s text me to ask if I heard from my mom yet. I realized I hadn’t heard from her really since Wednesday night. It wasn’t uncommon to skip a day or two in communicating with my mom, so it was nothing out of the ordinary for me. Plus, my mom recently had surgery so I wanted to give her some space to rest. Just in case. I stepped aside from work and called both of my mom’s numbers. No answer. I communicated with family members in her area and asked if they could check on her. No one could get there immediately. I thought I would wait until I was off work since I only had a few hours left. Surely, my mom would have called or texted me back by then.

An hour goes by…nothing. I start to get agitated. I step outside during chapel to call again. No answer.

I talk with my co-worker and decide to call the police to have them do a welfare check on her.

As I’m driving home, I start to get more anxious and nervous. I couldn’t allow my mind to rest. I kept trying to tell myself that maybe she was sleeping (since she had surgery on Monday), or she was at a doctor’s appointment. After an hour, I still didn’t hear from the police, so I called to follow up. The deputies had just arrived at the scene and her car was in the driveway. They would call me back.

I decided to lay down in my bed while cuddle my kitties. I was keeping friends and family updated, as we were now all becoming concerned.

Then, my phone rang from my mom’s area code. I picked up the phone to answer.

“Is this Alex?”

“Yes.”

“We went ahead and checked up on your mother…”

“And?”

“I’m sorry to report to you that she has passed away in her bed.”

It’s been about 6 days and his words still ring in my ear. Repeating over and over again. When he broke the news, I started repeating “No” as much as I could. I actually hung up on him.

I had never screamed in agony before this. I couldn’t stop screaming and crying. I tried to get out of bed but I couldn’t get up. It was as if my legs had stopped working. I fumbled as my phone started ringing and I answered and told my mom’s friend she was gone. I don’t remember who called who, but I told my uncle the same. I looked into my phone to see who I could call. I couldn’t even see straight. I called my friend Julia and told her my mom died. She dropped everything and came over. I wrote a status on Facebook that only said, “My mom died”

An hour later, I had about 5 people in my apartment packing for me, cleaning, making calls, and communicating with my uncle on travel arrangements. As I drank the red wine in the glass, I started to go completely numb. I couldn’t even function. Soon after, my uncle told me to call the coroner.

As I sat on the phone and listened to the coroner tell me about how my mom died, it was a blur. She died of internal bleeding from her GI tract, which was indicated by the fact that blood came out of her nose and mouth as they moved her body.

I never had a chance to tell her that I loved her once more.

I immediately regretted all the times I took my frustrations out on her.

I can’t comprehend the fact that I can’t pick up the phone and call her to ask her for advice or just to tell her about my day.

At this point, my blogs for the next months could very well be me mourning my mother. I’ve never dealt with a death of a parent before, and I don’t know where to start.

Why Stuart Scott’s Death Matters to Me

stuart_scottI can’t promise that my words will be coherent or make sense right now. If my thoughts seem jumbled, I apologize.

Ever since I found out I was ill, I looked up celebrities who dealt with or were currently dealing with cancer. I wanted to see how they dealt with the bad days, how they encouraged people, how they continued living their lives. Sometimes the stories had happy endings, sometimes, their endings meant a beautiful life was cut short. One of the lives I followed was Stuart Scott.

While I was never into sports, every person that I knew while growing up was watching ESPN, and they watched Stuart Scott. He made sports more entertaining for me, and I remembered his catch phrases like, “Boo-Yah!” and “As cool as the other side of the pillow” and started adapting them into my own young kid lingo. When I found out that he himself was dealing with cancer, plus numerous recurrences, I decided to keep watching him, specifically his attitude and how he continued to live life. I needed someone to look up to in the times where I couldn’t deal with the pain, or the times where I couldn’t stop crying. It was extraordinarily difficult to proceed through my day-to-day life and pretend that I was okay. I didn’t want to be a worry, or a bother to my colleagues, friends, and family. There were days where I would feel so defeated or like I was not going to win.

In those times, I would do some reading on what Stuart Scott was up to and doing, so I could pull myself out of my funk. I wanted to emulate this man in his strength and attitude. He is an inspiration to anyone who is fighting cancer, in remission, or fearful of it coming back. In July, Stuart Scott made this statement at the ESPYS that I made my mantra,

“When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the manner in which you live.”

Hearing these words from someone who was fighting so hard, and yet living life so well, it helped me to not stay in bed and cry all day after my official diagnosis. When I had to get multiple biopsies and procedures done, Stuart’s voice rang in my head. When I had to take the first weekend off from my show because of treatment, I watched videos of Stuart’s segments filmed while he was in the midst of some of his most intense fighting.

www.chicagotribune.com
www.chicagotribune.com

Even though my diagnosis was a long-anticipated one after years of dealing with abnormal test results, I still wasn’t prepared for the “C word” when it finally reared its ugly head. Shoot, I had even had a bout with skin cancer several years ago that was dealt with surgery. But, this time was different because it was further inside my body and treating it would be more invasive. When you’re making countless trips to multiple doctors and having multiple procedures done, PLUS being in so much pain, I started to feel less than human. There were countless times where I felt like I was losing myself, and losing control of my life. There were times where I realized that I didn’t have support from certain people in my life, but then I would be quickly reminded of the people who were there to support me, both physically and spiritually.

Thankfully, surgery has been my treatment so far. But should it ever come back and escalate to more aggressive treatments, I’ll be ready for it with boxing gloves on with Stuart’s story ringing in my head, and encouraging me to not only keep fighting, but continuing to LIVE.

Rest in peace, Stuart, and thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Mentality of Being Sick

phoenixtearsau4In March of 2014, I had noticed something about my body that was acting weird. For the purposes of keeping this rather toned down as to what my condition is, I’ve named this ailment, “Gladys.”

I went to the doctor since not only did I not get my normal cycle for four months, and I wasn’t pregnant, but I was experiencing back pain and really bad cramps. My PMS times were always painful, but in the last year, I was dealing with crippling pain that would put me in bed for days at a time. And as time progressed, it got worse. So, to the doctor I went.

Without going into too much detail, I found out that I needed treatment for what I had. After one unsuccessful procedure that was less invasive, I had to have a second, more aggressive procedure. Right now, I’m stabilized. But mentality, I’m damaged.

First, let me start off with the fact that I’ve never thought I was immortal. In fact, I came to terms about the possibility of death about 9 years ago after dealing with a car accident that nearly killed me. Injuries are one thing, but being sick is a completely different game. Injuries heal. Diseases have a chance of coming back.

I also began to learn who my friends were, who were real Christians, who were really there for genuine reasons. When I was at my lowest, I learned who would be there for me when I needed them. I also saw the ugliest side of humanity in how others treated me once they learned I was sick.

One of the side effects of this disease is chronic pain. While it has reduced lately, being in constant pain eats away at your psychological well-being. I hate worrying anyone, so most of the time I’m never honest about how I’m feeling. I’m trying to keep my ailment a secret from the general public, and the only people who know are immediate family and friends. But sometimes I have to wonder if I should be more open to the public. Probably not. It would only hurt me.

I’ve also learned that my tolerance of dealing with pettiness and stupidity has reduced greatly. Whether it’s someone cheating on another, people nagging about traffic, spending money, etc. Well, at least you are healthy. You have purpose. We’re all alive and on the same team (for the most part). Why can’t we just treat each other with love and respect? Is that so hard to ask for?

I’ve also slowly been cutting out dramatic people in my life. If it’s not their fault, obviously that’s a different story. But when someone is constantly putting themselves in positions to willingly hurt someone and then wonder why they have drama in their life, I’m sorry but you’re out. To the people who think I’m talking about them, I probably am. Look in the damn mirror and see that the change that needs to happen is within yourself. Grow up, stop playing with people’s emotions and live, and start making a useful contribution to humanity.

Yeah, I sound mad. Because I am. Dealing with Gladys has made me extraordinarily angry. I’m angry at life, I’m angry at God. I’m just angry. While I’m happy with everyday that is given to me, my limitations make me so angry. I’ve been poked and prodded. I’ve been on more medications than I ever wanted to be on.

During times such as this, I honestly wanted to give up. But then a good friend of mine reminded me of my grandmother. She had nearly every health issue in the book, and yet she always kept pushing through and living her life. I’m not dealing with anything near to what she had, and I’m falling apart. If my grandmother could get through life with a broken ankle, diabetes, pneumonia, etc. then surely I can deal with Gladys.

Anyway, this is basically a rambling blog. Trying to work out the craziness in my mind in a public venue.

Happy sleep, everyone.

Writing 10,000 Words In a Day – How Did I Do It?

www.lynnegolodner.com
www.lynnegolodner.com

So, a few months ago, I wrote about 20,000 words over a weekend, and I kept on track writing about 10,000 words a day. Well, actually, I wrote 12,000 words on Saturday and 8,000 words on Sunday. How did I do it?

Well…

I stayed incredibly focused.

If you’re looking for an easy way to write 10,000 words in a day or 20,000 words in a weekend, you might want to look somewhere else. But I will tell you, once you accomplish this impressive feat, you will not only feeling accomplished, but you will also feel exceptionally proud of yourself.

I will say that it takes discipline, breaks, happy snacks, a few naps, and typing away vigorously. If this was something that people were more interested in learning about the details of what I did to accomplish this goal, let me know in the comments!

  1. Plan Ahead: You’re not going to be able to accomplish 10,000 words in a day if you don’t spend a few days planning it out. I spent a week researching on what I was going to write about. I made a detailed outline.
  2. Make a Schedule: I actually timed out my schedule by my typing speed. On a good writing spree, I can write 2,000 words in an hour. That should be good, right? I can be done in 5 hours! It’s not quite that simple. You have to take into consideration your writing stamina in terms of how your hands feel, how well your eyes can focus, and how much brain fog you can tolerate.
  3. Have Food & Drink On Hand: I had a mix of fresh veggies and fruit on hand that have a crunch. I like crunchy food, and having something healthy and fresh will help keep your mind clear. If you eat processed snacks like chips and crackers, and drinking caffeinated beverages for the sake of “staying awake”, you will find that your focus will not be consistent and you’ll get tired easily and quickly. Iced tea was my drink of choice. Staying hydrated is a must! Hydration helps your brain. Worried about frequent bathroom breaks? Start drinking lots of water about a week ahead of time so you’re body adjusts. Or, bring a notepad with you in the bathroom so you can make full use of your time by planning your next move.
  4. Take Breaks & Sleep: When I found I was having a major writer’s block, or to a point where I couldn’t keep going, I took a break. My breaks were spontaneous and came about every 2 hours for about 15 minutes. After 4 hours of writing, I was at about 3500 words (my 2000 word spree didn’t last long on day one), I took an hour long nap. I needed to give my brain a break and let it recharge. I also found that it was a great way to get new ideas to keep the writing going.
  5. Type Now, Edit Later: Your job on this day is to just get the words out, hence to why outlining and researching is important so you can just word vomit onto the paper. After you meet your goal, you can go back and clean it up. If you worry too much about going back and editing, you will put too much energy into something you can always handle later.
  6. No Distractions: I can’t write in silence, so I will play classical music. Some people can write with the television on. If neither of these distract you, that’s great. Let loved ones and friends know ahead of time what you’re doing so there’s no freak out if you silence your phone. Light a candle, create an environment that is distraction-free so you can get your writing done.

Obviously, this is just the short version. There are many more tips and tricks where that came from. Perhaps I’ll lump it all together into a short little e-book? What have you done to stay focused and productive on long writing days?

UPDATE: Due to popular demand, I have written a short eBook on how to write faster, write more, and develop a love for writing, and it includes how to write 10,000 words in a day! Check out 10,000 Words on Amazon! 

My Review of “Annabelle”

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On Wednesday night, I had the chance to see a special preview of Annabelle before it opened this weekend. I sat on the idea of whether to write a review of the movie or not, and while it’s Sunday, I decided to just do it. It’s going to be short, especially since there are numerous people out there who don’t like spoilers, so I’ll give my initial thoughts. Keep in mind that I’m not a film critic.

If you’re looking for accuracy in terms of the real story of Annabelle, you best look elsewhere. Before even walking into the movie, you have to accept that this is a “Hollywood” film, so there will be embellishments, overly dramatized actions, and more. If you approach this as a fiction film, then you’ll probably enjoy it more.

On that note, you can probably tell that I walked into the movie with really low expectations, which might be why I didn’t hate the movie. In fact, I actually liked it.

In the “prologue” of the film, we get a glimpse of two nurses and a man being interviewed by who we assume is Ed and Lorraine Warren about the doll. Then there’s a quick cutaway to “One year earlier…” (and the poor girl next to me read it as “One year later” and proceeded to be really confused the rest of the movie).

The real Annabelle doll at the Warrens' museum in Connecticut
The real Annabelle doll at the Warrens’ museum in Connecticut

In terms of plot, even though the movie’s start was a bit slow, it quickly accelerated as the premise of WHY the doll became possessed or haunted in the first place was established. The movie starred (ironically) Annabelle Wallis and Ward Horton as a young couple expecting their first child, named Mia and John. Well, John (Horton) gifts the creepy doll to Mia. Even before the doll becomes possessed and evil, it is a creepy doll and makes you wonder why Mia wanted it in the first place, but it turns out the doll is a rare collector’s item that is part of a collection. While still a bit unbelievable when Mia called the doll “beautiful”, the sense of realism as to why the doll was there to begin with kind of makes sense.

Of course with any horror film, there are jump moments and plot twists just for the sake of shock value, along with moments where people were literally yelling at the screen to tell the characters to turn back or not go into the creepy basement. But as the film closed out, I was actually moved to near tears as one of the characters makes the ultimate sacrifice to bring peace to the young family and their baby. The movie also ends with a full circle with the interview in the very beginning with a blurb about the doll’s current whereabouts.

Overall, I enjoyed the movie and recommended my friends who are horror fans and/or into the paranormal to see it.

If you go in with the assumption that this sequel/prequel to “The Conjuring” is going to be an exaggeration of the real Annabelle story and understand that it’s just Hollywood, you might enjoy it. If you’re new to the whole thing and don’t know the story of Annabelle, you best check it out and learn where the story came from. I imagine that the movie will help drive interest in the Warrens and Annabelle, and more people than ever will want to see the doll.

Schadenfreude: Where You Get Your Happiness Says A Lot About You

6cfc2ec464c0a37177a7f9f07c20fee5The word for the last two months that have been mentioned to me the most often is “vindication” in regards to whether I’m feeling vindicated or not. Here’s the thing…when it comes to the downfall or misfortunes of other people, whether it’s lost money or ruined reputations, I’m numb when it comes to those emotions. I definitely don’t feel good about anyone going through a hard time, and I actually feel pretty bad for those kind of situations. And when it comes to feeling “vindicated”…the damage was done and the scars exist, and the best thing to do is move forward and not look back. The flaunting of the feeling of being justified with decisions that were made that worked in my favor in relation to another person’s misfortune, just reflects my own insecurities and frankly, bitterness that has yet to be dealt with. While I can’t understand why anyone who legitimately cared for another person could feel anything positive from someone else’s bad time…is it right for me to judge them? Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, who am I to judge someone else? I’m just as guilty of these actions as the next person. It’s human nature.

So, instead of going with the judgment angle, I’ve been really working on approaching situations and people with love. You know…it’s really tough sometimes. But I have learned a lot from doing this because I’ve found that the only people who really get their jollies from bullying, writing passive aggressive posts, or making fun of someone else are truly miserable people. Woops, I’m judging again. But really, I’ve never seen a happy person make fun of someone for their appearance, speech, or their efforts in different areas. Most of the people I’ve met who really are happy and loving don’t do that.

As a society, we need to start focusing on building people up rather than bringing them down. Not only is it the f95cb31e2018f2691a3b44e0006a6f1aright thing to do, but getting satisfaction over bringing another down or over someone’s misfortune won’t do any good for your own character and well-being. However, we’re all human…and we can’t be perfect all of the time. So I guess the best that we can even do is do the right thing when we can and correct the situation when we go wrong.

Where we receive our satisfaction is a direct reflection of our character. So, essentially, what I’m saying is…get satisfaction from the uplifting of people. Because getting satisfaction from the opposite will just expose the ugly side of your character, and do you really want that?

On a more lighthearted note…I couldn’t resist the elephant in the room that the other word for this blog would be “schadenfreude”, which reminded me of the song from the musical, Avenue Q. Enjoy! *Note: There is some language and contains adult content.

Responsibility

Backstage during Wild Party
Backstage during Wild Party

Well, first of all: Shame on me. It’s been 5 months since I’ve updated this blog. But I’m happy that it’s still getting a ton of traffic for my Shakespeare posts (now I know what the audience really wants).

Anyway, now to catch you all up to my life as I know it thus far. Wild Party opened and closed, and it was a great show to be a part of. I made some wonderful new friends and connections in the Raleigh theatre community. I also decided to start doing a podcast for the theatre community in the Triangle area. I’ve been slowly collecting interviews and I hope to debut the podcast “Triangle On Stage” in August.

Speaking of shows, I’m a part of the cast of Xanadu at North Raleigh Arts and Creative Theatre and will be playing in September. If you’ve ever seen the original god-awful movie with Olivia Newton-John, you probably know that the musical is all camp and overall just fun. I’m really excited to be a part of the show and so far the rehearsal process has been all smiles. Plus, I get to bust my skates out again!

So, let’s get to business. I’ve gone through a whirlwind of a year since moving to Raleigh on 10502352_10152530408090520_5373058760609509633_nJune 1st, 2013. My life has changed in many unexpected ways. While initially it may have seemed like the events of last year were the worse thing to have ever happened to me, looking back…I feel like I might now understand what the Universe (or God) was trying to do.

Anyway, I’ve really been working on “me”, specifically when it comes to forgiving myself and taking responsibility for my actions of basically my entire life. I had a wise friend who gave me a heart to heart, because even after things calmed down, I still wasn’t all that happy. This friend told me that I needed to start taking responsibility for my actions in why I wasn’t happy. Of course, hearing this was at first very startling and doesn’t seem like the right thing to say to someone who was having an emotionally difficult time. But the reason being is that, I was living like a victim. And thus, it was a perspective that didn’t give me any control over my life. My life, my choices, etc. are all related to where I am exactly now. The important thing I needed to do was to take responsibility for my actions that I had control over, and then forgive myself. Interestingly enough, once I started forgiving myself, it was easier to start forgiving others.

The other part of this was also acknowledging where I didn’t have control, and to let certain things go, and to not continuously revisit the painful chapters. In the case of my stalker, it was a time where I let him make me feel like I was powerless and I lived in fear for several months before finally taking him to court to get the restraining order, which was granted because he waived his right to a hearing and consented to my testimony in court. I cried when that happened…it made me reconsider my relationship with God because I felt as though He finally threw me a bone. I would never wish what I went through with my stalker on my worst enemy. It was a frightening and awful experience that still leaves me looking over my shoulder all the time.

Alex MatsuoWhen I look at the people who wronged me today, I just feel sad for them and my heart goes out to them. I feel sad for the people who still hold grudges and post passive-aggressive messages knowing that it will do nothing to head towards a resolution. But, these are all doors that I’m in the process of closing. Looking back just leads to reopening those wounds and revisiting the pain on a regular basis, and I can’t do that to myself anymore. Do I hope for a resolution in the future? Of course. But I’m not going to tear myself apart anymore because it’s not happening.

And that’s taking responsibility by taking care of myself, and for the first time ever, doing things to help place myself on the road to genuine happiness. I have a job that I love, I have wonderful friends that I’ve made since moving here, I’m in a show and doing what I love, and I got the apartment of my dreams. I can’t really complain right now, but I also don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch because life always has that way of reminding you to appreciate the little things in life like having a roof over your head and food in your stomach. Basically, I’m enjoying life right now and not taking it for granted. Why?

Because it’s my responsibility to do so as a member of the human race.

2014 Thus Far

I have to say that 2014 so far is looking pretty good. Why, you ask?

  1. My book has been published.
  2. I booked my first show of the year, and it opens in March!
  3. I’ve already booked some speaking engagements for 2014.
  4. I started a brand new job that I actually like.
  5. I have a writing gig that pays me well and I get to cover fun topics.
  6. My paranormal team is growing and attracting some pretty brilliant minds.

It’s not a bad start to the year, and the remaining 11 months look promising. I have some other cool stuff in the back burner that I quite can’t announce yet, but it’ll be good stuff.

In comparison to 2013, I have to say that I’m much happier and healthier.  I’ve lost some weight, my heart rate is the lowest it’s ever been, I’m eating right, and my anxiety has reduced greatly. I’ve also made some great friends and finally settling into Raleigh…more than 6 months later.

Anyway, I guess the point of this blog for today is this: Even when things are horrible, crappy, and you don’t think you’re going to survive…keep holding on.  It will improve and get better.  If you were to tell me 6 months ago that I would be where I’m at today, I wouldn’t believe you. But hey, good things do come to those who wait, you just have to keep swimming.

This was a short blog, but I promise that I’ll have meatier stuff starting next week. 🙂