My experience in the first week of theatre class was dominated by pain. My condition’s been acting up like mad as I adjust to a new routine and being physical again.
Sometimes I can’t imagine living without pain, but other times I am more hopeful, knowing I just have to wait, wade it out. But I am impatient.
But then, pain isn’t necessarily bad, if you want to get all Zen about it. Sure, chronic soreness/pain/fatique/low-energy is pretty annoying and often inhibiting, but I’ll tell you something: it keeps me in my body. Flare-ups in theatre classes are common, because the physical (and emotional) tax on my system is something I cannot ignore. It brings attention to my body, letting me overall deal with it better (even if, at the moment, I am miserable and crazy with pain). It also reminds me of the edges of limits, which I am so sure I’m aware of until I inadvertently leap over said edges.
I do not currently live in the Present, but rather in a disjointed fusion of Nostalgia, Yearning, Fantasy, and Passing Beauty. Yanking myself back seems unnatural. After a time, everything seems unnatural. I am out of balance with myself. I wish for the times when my life consisted of moments, not memories. (Or else I wish for the next stage of my life to hurry up and begin.) In this wishing I am constructing a life of memories. Can an existence of moments only happen in times of constants and newness and externally seeking beauty? If confined to my own internal self, am I doomed to a life of the Past? Is there no way to live freely from within? Completely from within? Has the advent of my temporary and occasional social self doomed my instinctive initial natural introversion to the status of mere tool to recharge? Is that necessarily a bad thing? My actions and choices seem to clash with this. But maybe that’s because, it’s still new. Sometimes I think I am growing in more ways than what’s constructive.