I cannot do everything all at once.

Bummer.

I can perhaps do most things, and many things, and maybe even “all” things in turn, eventually, in time, but all at once? Not so much.

I met with a beloved teacher of mine on Sunday, and she said something which my dear friend Chris had once said to me, You’re going to have to choose.

OH! How I Hate To Hear That!

To give some grounding information to this broad proclamation about the reality of physics (unless it’s quantum physics, in which case they can be in more than one place at once, but I digress). Yesterday, I had to cancel the final of my 4 scheduled auditions for this month. A) I was pooped. Too much outflow energy, not enough restorative. b) in contemplating whether to go to the audition or not (by two buses in the rain), I read the performance details, and the performance overlaps day for day, word for word with the month before my graduation. Which means rehearsal is right then too, which means I’d be doing school, writing a thesis, and rehearsing for a real play? (Assuming ofcourseofcourse I got cast.)

It was all too much. And I asked myself that if I were my own best friend at the moment, what would I tell myself about going to the audition? I would tell myself to take care of me. And so I did. I wrote and called the casting director, full of chagrin and appreciation, and then went to meet up with my fellows. Which is really what I needed to do anyway.

There, I was given the divine opportunity to hear a woman in pain, and asked her to coffee after the meeting, and now we’ll be meeting on a weekly basis. Werd. Go G-d.

In reference to Sunday, and Patsy’s comment about having to choose; she was saying this because I came to her exhausted already. I've learned there’s a lot of externally flowing energy involved in theater auditions. And until you’re working with the other folks in rehearsal, or on stage with an audience, it’s really one-sided. Once you’re with those folks, it becomes symbiotic, and you exchange and feed off and are buoyed by one another's energy, but, it’s been too much all at once for me.

I also told Patsy that I was already overwhelmed by this HALF CREDIT class I’m taking, the 2^nd half of the workshop I’m implementing on Creativity and Spirituality (um, someone ring an irony bell?). I was feeling ALL kinds of WHOA BUDDY, it’s a half a fucking credit, back off with your emails at midnight demanding information.

None of my business when other people want to send emails (though my judgey judgerson wants to be like, hmm, lady, that can’t be healthy). But hey, some people work best at midnight. I’m not one of them.

In fact, I’ve gotten into the wonderfully cozy habit over the last few weeks of going to bed around 9pm. Yep. Lame, but I really really don’t feel that way. I realized it’s about 3 hours after the sun goes down, or after it’s dark, and my body and brain are like, alright, shutting down now. It’s been nice to not force myself to stay up till some “normal” hour, which is what I usually do.

So, that’s a form of self-care. So was canceling the audition. So was not emailing my professor back a snipey email in answer to her questions.

It’s all information, I guess is my point. And however loathe, really truly so uninclined to admit it, I can’t do everything.

I can’t audition for plays, rehearse for the one I’m in, start working with a woman on my financial stuff (which I begin this morning, in fact), meet with the girls I need to meet with, go to class, prepare and facilitate a workshop, write a thesis, do my homework ….. (without a car at least, sneaks in the thought). But, with or without a car, I have to choose where my energy will be going, and choose places where it’s not just outflow, but inflow.

Like my painting class yesterday. *Joy incarnate.* We, or I, practically shoved my hands into the paint and began to finger paint with it. I was so relieved and thrilled to be back to it. I love it. We were doing some, "Don’t think too hard about it" exercises, and it was marvelous. I could spit rainbows I was so … in my element.

I know too, from having taken a similar class last year, that by the end of the semester I was done with painting, that there’s, with me, a burn-out with everything. I used to say I need crop-rotation for my brain. A few months art, few music, few cooking. Give my brain a new toy, let the land rest, refuel.

But, friends, I hate to not be able to do it all. The painting, and the acting, and the writing, and the modeling, and the running in and out of the city, and the meeting up with folks, and going to see music, and keeping my home orderly. Mostly, I can’t do all the art at once.

This does not mean I cannot do all the art – I just don’t agree – my constitution is not made that way. My friend Chris had said, choose one thing, and that’s it, you do it, and you’ll succeed at it. I don’t work that way, or maybe I don’t work that way yet. I like crop rotation. I like playing in all these pockets of my brain’s creativity. I just can’t do it all at once. In order, one season of crops at a time, perhaps. One at a time, I can.

So, theater, for now, (as I head into rehearsals and my acting class, lol), I’m going to lay you down. For now. I thank you. You’ve been thrilling and helped me be brave, and open, and walk through fear, and have fun anyway; but for now, you’re moving down my speed dial. I’ll call you when the season has turned.