When You Say it's Going to Happy Now...

When exactly do you mean?

To say that I’ve been “in a place” lately, would an understatement so egregious, I feel like there should be a Bill Nye the Science Guy intercut of a child scientist in burning room shouting, “ya think!" During this pandemic year, there have been about four things that have genuinely brought me joy, two of the most prominent being pilates and writing.

I love pilates because it makes me long, lean, strong and my body just feels damn good! Do you know what its like to wake up and immediately feel your lower back fight you with vitriol and do everything in its power to communicate it’s in control? Because I do, and at the tender age of 29, I envision a more mobile and flexible adult life for myself. Cue Pilates entering stage left.

My other bundle of joy comes from writing, but even admitting that fills me with a complicated cocktail of dread, anxiety, fear, adventure, and mystery. Writing during this time has given me an immense sense of freedom to speak on the matters that truly resonate deepest with me. This influx of writing has also led to an increased motivation to delve deeper into my playwriting (see anxiety and dread above) which has ultimately led to more opportunities and what feels like a solid path forward for my career.


Lately, everything seems as if its gone to shit. I attribute this shit to combination of what feels like non-stop work for my 9-5 job (I work at for an independent film/tv/docs/podcast studio), self doubt, laziness and then there’s the news. The anti-Asian hate crimes reopened old wounds of my own that I never truly thought healed, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t try to hide them. It’s hard not to get extremely overwhelmed and pessimistic when every time you turn on the television you’re reminded how lethal white supremacy truly is to those of us known as “the other.” What’s more, we continue to press forward in overly militarized state of existence that seemingly cares more about restricting the right to vote than restricting the right to light em’ up. All of this just makes me feel like everything is so…well pointless. What’s the point of fighting so hard to change our political leadership when the very issues we thought were going to be confronted get swept outside onto the porch and are now somewhere blowin in the wind? What’s the point of trying to be a force for change when eventually even your effort in activism become commodified, repackaged, and mass produced by a DISNEY/COMCAST/COCOCOLA conglomerate? And what’s the point of trying to not only live but find success in life when it can all come to end because some white dude is mad because not enough women will fuck him (sorry not sorry).

So what’s happened to me? Well, I’ve been in a stagnate place literally and psychologically. My back pain is back and collecting interest pains for the many months I went without it. I find myself more fearful of my future than excited by the prospects. I find reasons to tell myself I’m undeserving or unbelonging to the industry I want to pursue. And I’m constantly overwhelmed by feelings of dread about that state of our planet, political discourse, and human nature.

Which brings me to this post. It’s time for me to recalim ownership of my body and my mind. I started this intense stretching program that many people use to learn how to do splits but I’m just using it keep my spine and hips healthy (which honestly is so great, if you’re not stretching you best start now!). I started drinking mad water. Like mad mad water. Like almost a gallon a day and let me tell you, water really just be out here in these streets healing things. My energy levels are up, my focus feels improved, I feel better in general, and even my joints feel more lubed up (which again is super important). And finally I am going to stop cowering in fear of my ambition. If you don’t know much about me, know that I am currently in the process of writing a play (well two plays but don’t tell my mind that). One day, I’d like to have my work produced in the city (but who would I be to overlook regional theater). And one day after that, I’d like to be working in television, developing my own project for a major streamer and/or network (with a streaming platform—what’s the deal with that eh).

I say this because I find that the more I talk about my goals, the more dedication I feel to getting my shit done! This week I have the week off from work and I’ll be using this time to stretch and write and do pilates and repeat. Just as I need to get my body warmed up for movement, I find it helpful to get my mind warmed up for my larger projects. So this is the first of five daily posts that will be coming from me because I need to hold myself accountable. I don’t know what they will look like, maybe they’ll include a bit of the play(s) I’m working on or maybe it’ll just be a stream of consciousness about how this was an awful idea.

Either way, help me help myself. Engage with my work. Encourage me. Tell me I don’t need an MFA (for real though). And above all, be kind to yourself :)

Love you and see you all soon.

Still from a rather classic Twilight Zone episode called “Time Enough At Last.” In this one, Burgess Meredith (TZ royalty) is a bank teller and avid reader who finds his job keeps getting in the way of his reading. One day, an atom bomb goes off leaving him alone in a post apocalyptic world. He succombs to depression knowing he’s the lone survivor until he finds the ruins of a library, with all the books perfectly in tact. As he bends over to pick up his first book, his glasses fall and shatter, leaving him basically blind and as just another piece of the rubble left behind. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.”