Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Blue Ridge Dawn
The sun rises over the Blue RIdge....
Crickets soft chirping....
The spirit's total release.
A morning haiku.....I woke in the pre-dawn dark , and came out here on the deck to watch the sunrise over our particular section of the Blue Ridge: glorious. Coolness of morning, as God slowly turns the dimmer that brings the dawn....the merest hint of pale orange in a sky mixed with grey and cream makes the edges of the 4 or 5 ridges i can see right now seem sharper than they do all day,..later, I will be able to see 8 or 9 ridges, as more of the morning fog lifts....but right now, it's the clarity of the top edges that transfix me: such a delicate but definitive meeting of mountain and sky.
THS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR. Not the sound of an audience laughing or the solving of the next big problem at my theatre office.NO. Not the next steps in a long career, but the release of all that into a world much larger, a vision much wider, a life much more consciously lived.
I am grateful for the time here and now to re-discover that true thing inside me: a place of safety no matter what, my true place of wanting to be where Nature makes a sort of sense not possible in any other part of life.
Nature (what Mankind has named "Nature") throws it all back into the original mix it was before we named it: call it what you will. When i have the chance to exist in its arms, I am lulled back to where I know is right..and to where we all end up anyway, so why struggle? Sitting here on the back deck of the house we're renting in the Blue Ridge Mountains, as the world lightens around me, I know what I don't know in my busy life...what I of course know but forget so easily: we are all safe in this random Universe because we ARE the random Universe...we are all of it...every cloud in the sky, every sweet cricket's chirp...every fragrant whiff of coffee and every single moment of awareness: we are each thing.
Now, why sitting on a deck in the middle of a dawning morning makes me remember that? I don't know...maybe it's all this Buddhist reading I 'm doing...but i feel it inside me as if no other truth ever existed...and it is as simple as simple gets. God...or Buddha..or Me...or Awareness...or simply It..is in this morning dawn.
It is certainly NOT in the wretched garbage people build in the name of what they think is Spirit...and i say this as a result of having driven through some of this country's tackier strips of human striving: Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. (Bless their hearts).
With all due respect to the human beings involved in all that smudged perception of life: what in the world are people doing? In the name of God, and that other god Commerce, they have substituted hugeness, gaudiness, blaring signage and attention-grabbing attractions for anything resembling the true worship of anything that matters..
The Main commercial strip running through Pigeon Forge, TN. ...well, it's terrifying in its commerciality and ugliness. There is a "Broadway type" theatre (what the hell is THAT?) where they show a thing called THE MIRACLE...they CRUCIFY JESUS ON STAGE!!!! AFter a couple of hours of belting out songs about him...and about God...etc...and the women in the show, all dressed up in garments to make them look like they are women of the time of Jesus...well, they wear enough make-up to sink an Ocean Liner and I'm telling you, clearly Dolly Parton is their patron saint, because the larger the hair and the more lurid the make-up (on the men and women), the better they seem to like it! All this so they can charge audiences $35.00 (because it's a Broadway TYPE theatre...if it were a Broadway theatre for real, they'd be paying $135.00)...to see the story of jesus acted out in front of them....complete with CRUCI-FICTION! This stuns me...they WANT to see their object of worship mutilated unto death in the worst possible way. This is odd and sadistic. But people pay for it...maybe the make-up makes up for the pain they witness.
As you can see , I am thoroughly judgmental and horribly amazed by all this...
(yet, the glowing orange disc of a rising sun , oddly reminiscent of the cheeks of THE MIRACLE's actresses i see in their brochures), makes me feel better). God knows, I love make-up as much as the next gal, and have worn it my whole life on stage and off...but in a show about jesus and god and being Christian? I'd say: cut the mascara and lipstick: come see the sunrise from my deck here, and get back to basics...and IF you want to be on Broadway, GO TRY OUT FOR BROADWAY SHOWS IN MANHATTAN ....a real Broadway theatre has its own history..and very few crucifixions, except the literary ones perpetrated by various critics through the hard-working years.
The sun is now yellow...and the sky a mix of delicate greys...the breeze gently rival the murmur of the hot tub waters neaby on the deck...shall i take a morning soak? Perhaps. Perhaps.
More soon.
Crickets soft chirping....
The spirit's total release.
A morning haiku.....I woke in the pre-dawn dark , and came out here on the deck to watch the sunrise over our particular section of the Blue Ridge: glorious. Coolness of morning, as God slowly turns the dimmer that brings the dawn....the merest hint of pale orange in a sky mixed with grey and cream makes the edges of the 4 or 5 ridges i can see right now seem sharper than they do all day,..later, I will be able to see 8 or 9 ridges, as more of the morning fog lifts....but right now, it's the clarity of the top edges that transfix me: such a delicate but definitive meeting of mountain and sky.
THS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR. Not the sound of an audience laughing or the solving of the next big problem at my theatre office.NO. Not the next steps in a long career, but the release of all that into a world much larger, a vision much wider, a life much more consciously lived.
I am grateful for the time here and now to re-discover that true thing inside me: a place of safety no matter what, my true place of wanting to be where Nature makes a sort of sense not possible in any other part of life.
Nature (what Mankind has named "Nature") throws it all back into the original mix it was before we named it: call it what you will. When i have the chance to exist in its arms, I am lulled back to where I know is right..and to where we all end up anyway, so why struggle? Sitting here on the back deck of the house we're renting in the Blue Ridge Mountains, as the world lightens around me, I know what I don't know in my busy life...what I of course know but forget so easily: we are all safe in this random Universe because we ARE the random Universe...we are all of it...every cloud in the sky, every sweet cricket's chirp...every fragrant whiff of coffee and every single moment of awareness: we are each thing.
Now, why sitting on a deck in the middle of a dawning morning makes me remember that? I don't know...maybe it's all this Buddhist reading I 'm doing...but i feel it inside me as if no other truth ever existed...and it is as simple as simple gets. God...or Buddha..or Me...or Awareness...or simply It..is in this morning dawn.
It is certainly NOT in the wretched garbage people build in the name of what they think is Spirit...and i say this as a result of having driven through some of this country's tackier strips of human striving: Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. (Bless their hearts).
With all due respect to the human beings involved in all that smudged perception of life: what in the world are people doing? In the name of God, and that other god Commerce, they have substituted hugeness, gaudiness, blaring signage and attention-grabbing attractions for anything resembling the true worship of anything that matters..
The Main commercial strip running through Pigeon Forge, TN. ...well, it's terrifying in its commerciality and ugliness. There is a "Broadway type" theatre (what the hell is THAT?) where they show a thing called THE MIRACLE...they CRUCIFY JESUS ON STAGE!!!! AFter a couple of hours of belting out songs about him...and about God...etc...and the women in the show, all dressed up in garments to make them look like they are women of the time of Jesus...well, they wear enough make-up to sink an Ocean Liner and I'm telling you, clearly Dolly Parton is their patron saint, because the larger the hair and the more lurid the make-up (on the men and women), the better they seem to like it! All this so they can charge audiences $35.00 (because it's a Broadway TYPE theatre...if it were a Broadway theatre for real, they'd be paying $135.00)...to see the story of jesus acted out in front of them....complete with CRUCI-FICTION! This stuns me...they WANT to see their object of worship mutilated unto death in the worst possible way. This is odd and sadistic. But people pay for it...maybe the make-up makes up for the pain they witness.
As you can see , I am thoroughly judgmental and horribly amazed by all this...
(yet, the glowing orange disc of a rising sun , oddly reminiscent of the cheeks of THE MIRACLE's actresses i see in their brochures), makes me feel better). God knows, I love make-up as much as the next gal, and have worn it my whole life on stage and off...but in a show about jesus and god and being Christian? I'd say: cut the mascara and lipstick: come see the sunrise from my deck here, and get back to basics...and IF you want to be on Broadway, GO TRY OUT FOR BROADWAY SHOWS IN MANHATTAN ....a real Broadway theatre has its own history..and very few crucifixions, except the literary ones perpetrated by various critics through the hard-working years.
The sun is now yellow...and the sky a mix of delicate greys...the breeze gently rival the murmur of the hot tub waters neaby on the deck...shall i take a morning soak? Perhaps. Perhaps.
More soon.
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