This weekend I attended an all woman PJ party in Cape Charles Virginia. It was a celebration for a young lady turning 39. We had martinis, we wore Pjs, there were balloons, cake, red wine, slippers and presents. We were in a large, I mean over 5,000 square feet, fully furnished house located in a gated community with a pool and a river located in the back. A house that I shall, so I right now can safely predict, will never own or for that matter ever desire to own. I interacted with all the attendees, exchanged witty bantor on clams and children, drank a lot of wine, a few martinis, and even gave a grand toast and a wee bit of a roast of the guest of honor. I have to say it went over quite nicely. The gals listened, laughed and even in a few places clapped. It felt magical. The energy was brilliant and I have to admit I was alive for the first time in a long time. It truly hit me and hit me hard how much I love, and maybe...wait for it...need to perform. I've had twinges of this emotion before while and after performing yet not like this, not as powerful and as real, solid as if the the emotion was an actual person standing next to me, touching my arm and breathing my air. I am content today. A little melancholy even. That feels appropriate. Direction accurate. Floating today in this new space, a limbo even, feels ok and seems to be nudging me toward a sort of connected to the bigger picture realization. I am writing, I am performing, I am so happy to be here on the shore. I cannot imagine being anywhere else right now and I've decided not to spend any time doing such imagination. I am going there as all the kids say today. Downward and spiraling at times, yes; scared often oh sure. Energized and hopeful, hell yes. And through all of the emotions, the feelings, the events, I find myself easily falling asleep each night and you better believe it, laughing all the way.
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