Reverb11: Passion
If you could quit your day job and your quality of life wouldn’t change, what would you do?
I do have to say upfront that I am not currently at my ideal quality of life. I am not in hell, but I want and need some things to improve. Part of that improvement will be contingent upon how well my freelance reboot goes in 2012. So I will approach this prompt as though it were asking me if I could have my as yet unrealized ideal quality of life, and hold on to it without working.
That being said, I am a story teller. I would spend almost all of my time facilitating the telling of stories. Stories to move, to entertain, to illicit thought, to frighten, to comfort. Stories of being human, or what it should be to be so. I excel at doing this in two ways. Through my writing, and through my work in the theatre. And despite the fact that I spend a great deal of time on both now, (I am a freelance writer after all), the lack of needing money all the time would open up avenues of pursuit that right now are not as attainable I dare say.
For starters, I’d spend more time researching and experiencing the things that can help a writer become a better story teller, outside of the words themselves. Traveling. Visiting museums. Attending shows and concerts. (I am a firm believer that participating in one of the arts improves one’s ability in the others.) Some days I am sure I would just spend pacing about working out a plot, or once in a while a specific sentence. I do this a bit now and I know it takes up more time than it should for this freelancer. But with money being no object I could be more at ease to do so.
The prompt doesn’t mention if I have unlimited money in this alternate universe, or if simply my quality of life doesn’t suffer once I quit my job. But assuming I can live my life at leisure because of money, in addition to my greater focus on writing my own way, I would either buy some kind of medium sized theatre venue, or buy another building and convert it into same, for the sake of housing my own theatre company. A company that despite my resources would remain modest in means and accoutrements, but big on material, talent and dedication. One that I could build, mold, and run according to my vision of theatre. A company I could take around to other venues for visiting performances, while hosting the performances of others in my venue.
I’d spend my time promoting, brainstorming, writing, acting, connecting, directing, and just in general creating art by way of this company and this venue. And of course my time running the theatre would inform my writing, and my writing would inform my acting/theatre work. Art nourishing art, creating a product in both cases into which I can pour my heart and mind, and subsequently offer to the community at large for their betterment. Their enjoyment. Their enlightenment.
And to do so without guilt. The guilt of being in debt. Of struggling to pay bills. Of writing things in my own pace instead of according to a deadline. The guilt of…well you understand by now. Pursuing the passions within my spirit without feeling the need to justify it. Truth be told, I have gotten better at just doing what it is to be me without explanation in the last few years. I even said once I’d rather be a pauper and a story teller than a self sufficient man with a cubicle. Not sexy to most people, but it is closer to being authentic than anything else.
Yet I would be lying if I said that guilt hadn’t held back my art somewhat even now. I hope that I don’t have to become rich in order for me to finally feel free to be the story teller I want to be and can be, in both writing and theatre. Hopefully I can find a way to make these contributions without having to abandon the idea of making any money. I believe I can.
Yet in this little fantasy, money is not an issue, and therefore writing and theatre, and the auxiliary things that improve those arts, would take up the lion’s share of my time.
Reverb11: Party Time
Tell us about the “best” party you attended this year.
Despite not being much of a “party person”, I did attend a few this year. Some were huge, mind blowing affairs, the likes of which I have rarely seen. Others were more modest. Each had their own appeal. But if I had to choose the best one, I think I would go with one of the smaller ones I attended at a local friend’s house back in April.
I have known members of this family in one way or another for the better part of ten years. Over those years I came to know the other members. I am simpatico with some of them in a number of ways, especially in regards to introversion. Back in the spring, I had, with much fanfare, just finished the rough draft of my novel. On schedule. Always supportive of me and my endeavors, a few of my friends in this family suggested I come over to their house the following week, for some drink, food, and camaraderie, in celebration of my writing accomplishment. Touched by their consideration and generosity, I accepted.
The party itself was low-key. One or two other people outside of the family did show up, but it was mostly just me and the family. They asked me about my book, what the next step was, and what it had been like to write it. How it felt to achieve the rough draft. More than once one of them told me that just finishing the draft was an accomplishment that most people only talk about, but never actually achieve. I am still not sure if the act of finishing a draft is as worthy of the gracious praise they bestowed upon me that night, but I appreciated it quite a bit, nonetheless.
Some people are drawn most to the parties that are the biggest, the loudest, the most expensive, the most well stocked with refreshment. Some are drawn to the hosts, or the venue, or other expected guests. Each of those things, and more are legitimate metrics to determine the success of a party. Yet for me, it was the spirit and purpose for this party that made it my best in 2011.
The fact that friends of mine opened their home and offered their food to me for the specific purpose of taking an interest in and celebrating an accomplishment that was so personally significant to me says a lot about them. And a lot about that party. Outside of my own mind, it was the first and thus far most demonstrative expression as to the importance of my writing the draft. Outsiders looking in may not have judged it to be a great party, but I have rarely appreciated a celebration more than I did that one.
Reverb11: Friendship
What kind of friend were you in 2011? What kind of friend do you want to be in 2012?
It is hard to determine what kind of friend I was in 2011, exactly. You would probably have to consult my friends for their take on this question. I assume, as far as quality is concerned, I must have been a fairly good one to at least some portion of people I know, otherwise I would not have gotten such a moving response to my difficulties as often as I did. True, some people could have responded out of pure altruism, but not that many in one group of people, I dare say. I am grateful either way, but I have gathered one has to be a good friend to have good friends.
Yet if by “kind” the prompt refers to what type of friend I was, I suppose I’d have to say the invested kind. The friend who works at understanding what makes the other people tick, and knowing how their most important issues at the moment are unfolding. Their projects, their hobbies, their health, etc. The friend who asks many questions about the nature of what someone is doing, and what the goal is. The friend who makes as many constructive, or at least aesthetic observations about the things that matter most to any given friend at any given moment.
I try to educate myself on what my friends are living.
I’d like to continue to do that in 2012, of course. But I would also like to be the friend that is called upon in the middle of the night, or for the unique help he can bring. I want to be the friend of action as much as I am the friend of words and sentiment. To an extent this requires a choice by my friends to let me in and have those chances to make a direct difference through action. (Not that expressing support is not action. It is. But one can be more confident in having made a difference if he is directly taking a specific, outward action sometimes, I think.)
Which means I may have to be less ambiguous. I may have to work a little harder on letting people know how I feel a little more often. And I might have to risk losing a friend here or there by honestly expressing larger concerns. There is a time for tact and for holding one’s tongue, but I’d like to be better at saying the bold thing that needs to be said for the good of the person in 2012.
A friend that both loves, and challenges, but only when needed.
Hopefully 2012 will not bring much need to do that, but will bring my ability to make that decision during the times it actually does arise.
Reverb11: Acts of Generosity
Tell us about a time this year that you were moved by the generosity of another.
Would it be selfish or lack creativity to answer this prompt by mentioning my own friends and myself? If so, I may have to live with the label, because without a doubt, it is generous actions of about a dozen of my friends in particular that fits the bill best for this prompt this year.
They were generous with their time and support when about eight weeks ago I mentioned in a rather public manner, (Facebook updates) that I was in the midst of a difficult, trying time. That I in no way expected anyone to do anything about my situation, but that I wanted people to at least be aware of it, so if they were inclined, they could send me the proverbial “good vibes”.
And send them they did. Not just mentally, either. I got emails, Facebook messages, comments on the status, texts and even a few tweets from a select group of people who wanted right away only to help me in some manner. I got invitations to visit, well wishes, reminders of my importance, (to them and to the world at large), suggestions for how to proceed and professions of love. It was all quite uplifting to me.
This is not to say that those who didn’t respond directly are lesser people, or even that they care about me less. Yet given that a simple word or two, or even no response at all because of the potential awkwardness would have been the easier thing to do, the fact that that select few took the time, energy, and thought into offering me their support and love was, in my mind, quite generous. Especially when in some cases I had not known the concerned party for an extended period of time. I found it moving that someone would put forth the effort, even without knowing me at such an intimate level as some of my other friends do.
Yes, I was the beneficiary in this case. One may wonder if I would have been so moved had the affection been directed at someone else. The answer is, yes. If I could in some way be made aware that people were putting forth a sincere effort and taking time out of their days to remind someone other than me that they were going to be all right, and that loved ones were never more than a phone call or text away, I like to believe I would have still been moved. A person’s time and emotional energy are commodities that I feel are not easily parted with, and that is what makes the sharing of same so generous.
Sure we can all click a “Like” on Facebook without much thought, or shoot off a “Sorry to hear that” message, without much investment. I got a few of those as well. However, to think about a response, tailor it to the recipient’s personality and situation, without pandering or condescending? That is something that can’t just be shot off in a moment. It requires a willful, gracious bestowing of sentiment upon the needy soul. That is a choice that is made. A gift that is given. A generous gift at that, and I would be moved by anyone I witnessed taking such time to add depth to their responses.
So I thank my friends for their generosity, the most moving example of such I have witnessed this year.
Reverb11: Let’s Do Lunch.
If you could have lunch with anybody, who would it be and what would you like to discuss?
An age old prompt that people have been asking almost as long as there have been lunches. And so many possible ways to look at it. Is it anybody living or dead, entering the realm of the impossible? Can it be a fictional character, thus entering the realm of fantasy? Certainly famous people are the most common answer one way or the other, despite the low likelihood of ever dining with them. The prompt itself doesn’t specify perimeters.
Plus, knowing me, I am unlikely to have lunch with anybody unless I know them fairly well already. I’m a reserved introvert who doesn’t do much conventional networking after all. I don’t often do lunch with total strangers, and any friends with whom I could possibly have lunch have at some point already joined me in same. As much as I would love to lunch with my friends again, that seems to be an uninteresting source of potential mealtime companions within the context of this prompt.
Though I like to think I would not be star struck into silence, given the chance to prepare for a meal with a celebrity I admired, there are all kinds of famous people I would love a chance to converse with over a meal. Actors. A few athletes. A writer here and there. I think it would be impossible for me to pick one single individual with whom I would long to have lunch and conversation above all others. So instead of trying to pick the most intriguing celebrity option, I will go with a more down to earth but nonetheless desirous partner. One that in this context is anonymous.
I’d sit down to lunch with an American Muslim. I don’t know any devout Muslims in this country personally. And while I know in my heart I am not a Muslim, nor could I be one, I would want to sit down with one first and foremost to discuss how they feel. How they are doing personally, emotionally, and spiritually in a climate that seems to me more committed to their destruction, or at least their subjugation, with each passing day. I wish to be the set of ears and open mind in person for them that I suspect they have found lacking in society as a whole over the last several years. I’d want them to tell me if they are angry, forgiving, confused, hurt, or perhaps even unfazed by the way so many vocal elements of our society view and speak of Islam.
I’d also want to hear about the people who have not succumbed to the bigotry and ignorance that associates the religion itself with terrorism. (There is zero connection.) I would ask where they have found American non-Muslims who treated them with dignity and respect, when earned. I’d be even more interested in examples of such people who belonged to other religions. Those who know that respect is earned by an individual person, not denied based on a warped interpretation of an entire demographic.
I’d want to know if they, the Muslim, being on the bad end of this witch hunt, have any reason to be optimistic about the United States. I’d want to know from them what they think can be done. I’d ask of this to satisfy my own need to find hope about the future of my society.
Finally if it would be of any use, I would do my best to convey to them that I see them as personally guiltless in terrorist acts that have affected my country. That I see Islam as blameless in same, and that while not adhering to the tenants of Islam, I find nothing threatening about them doing so. I doubt they require my exhortations of magnanimity in order to feel complete, yet I hope hearing them would provide at least a minor salve to some of the possible pain they feel.
I’d mention that these problems are beyond me in such a system, and that the only things I could see myself doing that would counteract any of it would be having more lunches like our lunch, and encouraging others so do to when they could. To resist my potent desire at times to retaliate with my own vilification of certain other religions that I see as stoking the anti-Islamic fires in this country. To nonetheless speak out against rumors and untruths that are sold as fact and history. To educate myself even further so I could be even more effective at this. And of course to keep in mind any suggestions they may have for cooling the increasing heat over religion that is scorching the earth of this country.
It may not be a comfortable lunch. It may not be the most upbeat meal time conversation that either me or my companion would ever have. Yet if it were the right companion, that would be patient with my conversational idiosyncrasies and such, I can think of fewer lunches with greater potential to effect those certain parts of my soul more effectively.
Ty Unglebower 