I've hit several pitfalls this week and right in the center of them all I remember the wisdom and the peace provided by the words of God, my online sermon studies, and of course-Margaret. Last night I slept in a car, and pushing aside all my self-pity, was one specific line from the play that encouraged me to smile. Floods of images crowded my mind of not my own blessings but the extreme suffering and poverty of others. It was then that I began to sleep soundly in a luxury car, in a safe neighborhood, with a decent paying job to head to in the morning.
And so here I sit, tired yet satisfied, with a hot cup of coffee in hand and smiling faces all around me. The pages of Margaret's life in front of me and images of actresses and novelists, maps of the world, postcards from friends posted up with thumbtacks surrounding my work area. Contrary to my eager sentiments to have this show over so that I could, "get on with life," find a place of my own to live in, I am soaking in the anticipation of conforming my body, adjusting my mind, and interacting with the other performers this evening. Its the process that I am in; I'm in the potter's hand so to speak.