Coffee Chat & Book Review: The Lion In My Bed by Ruth Wire

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Unconventional Normalcy

 Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live

Maybe one of these days you can let the light in

Show me how big your brave is

Lately, my deepest desire is for normalcy, that is, to gather myself finished with my work day in the early evening, have a nice dinner, relax in front of the tv or with a book, and go to bed.  But, in all truth, this change in me was slowly emerging back in the Before Times (pre-covid19) of 2019, when I was gradually becoming increasingly worn out from the culture and rat-race of the local theatre scene and although not admitting it to myself was ready for a change.  I recall saying this to myself and to my friends, "don't you ever just want to be normal?" 

I desired that, partially, yet at the same time I thought there was no way I could be content with that lifestyle.  Yet, in these times post-covid19 (perhaps), I feel a sense of normalcy has descended upon my life and my desires of my heart both personally and professionally have shifted to a slower pace.

Now, when I say I desire the normal day to day, in no way am I am referring to the 9-5 job, yes, this desire comes from a girl who logs online to certain websites for discreet modeling services, works diligently as a fine art model for the local colleges and a variety of art studios as well as a simulated patient at the local nursing college, dashes about town as a dog walker and house-sitter, among a smattering of other employment duties.  

Basically, I'm a ultra busy gig worker and with the onset of the time of Covid-19, I took the time to step back from the rat-race, re-prioritize, look within, heal, became centered, found myself, and thus here I am.  Finally, the gig work is increasingly lucrative as I set and attain my intentions slowly I rise, as it were.  But, albeit the busyness, I have learned the all to valuable lesson to close up shop for the night.  

As I take a pause from the life of a theatre actress, it has opened up new avenues for my creativity to expand.  With that, an increase of my abilities, finances, and overall self worth.

I was made for such a life of 'unconventional normalcy', I see that now.  But it was a long pathway to accept this in myself. 

During the time of Covid19, I took the time of quarantine 2020 and on into 2021, to focus inward on the recovery of my traumatic issues and examine how that has affected who I am, my bipolar diagnosis, and my relationships throughout my life.  It is not super comfortable to look back in time at the ugliness, the times my broken brain believed itself to be correct when it was in error, but one thing assures me with strength is the friends and other close ones who were about me then and many still to this day, a fact that astounds me.  Why, I wonder, am I really that special, worthy of such love unconditional?  I find in myself an embarrassment for how I treated such when in these episodes.

Yes, all of my life I would have these episodes, that I now recognize stem from a dual diagnosis of Bipolar and PTSD, the emotional reactivity of the latter influenced by the mood instability of the former, be it they outbursts of anger, intense sadness bordering on suicidal ideation, or somewhere in between.  In those times, I can recall that my mind honestly believed the thoughts racing through which perpetuated the outward reaction, which now I see the thoughts were that of dysfunction.  The majority of my life I carried within an overwhelming dislike of myself, a running commentary on my unworthiness of love, and an ever diminishing self esteem.  Putting aside the conversation about why this went un-examined for so much of my life until the age of 27, when due to a mental breakdown from the stress of working as a school teacher, I was forced to stop running and face myself.  Therein, was handed to me the first diagnosis correctly given, Bipolar.

Now, I can bemoan this in that I spent a good percentage of my youth in and out of a variety of recovery, trying to conform and increasingly feeling a failure because I couldn't, as well as mournfully comment on the reality that I missed out on that time of life...or I can realize the truth of who I am.

I am unconventional and that is just fine. My purpose here on this planet, I now see, is to be a catalyst of change, to strike against the status quo of social norms, and forge my own path, one that is about increasingly finding security within mental health and wholeness as well as that for others.

And, thus I am, at last, discovering my own version of the good life, more and more, true success is found in the little moments of joy.  The purr of my kitty, Tansy, the thrill of seeing my garden grow and eating the fruits (or veggies) of my effort, the friendship of good and loyal friends who have weathered the storms with me, whose encouragement has never wavered, and are more likened to family of sorts.  

With their strength, I find my own, to step out on my journey full of love and excitement for what shall unfold.

Brave

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love
Or you can start speaking up

Why I Love Renting

 

I know that there is a high pressure based on societal rules to fall in life with the enforced milestones of life, you know, like getting the college degree, hitching up, birthing the 2.5 kids, and buying a house.  But, for my life in residence, I have been a renter throughout. I used to be looked down for this, another regulation enforced by society, that if you don't fit into the status quo, if you are different, you are wrong and somehow broken.

But, as I drive about my beloved home town of Ashland, I marvel as I travel past all the former places of residence, or even, the places I called home because they hold some significance, whether it be an old friend or flame's abode, a former work environment, or something in between, and this reality of my existence warms me to the core.  I've mourned as I watched the demise and destruction of a place I once called home and continued to feel the absence as I pass by where it once was.  

Added to that, as I busy myself with the joys of nesting and all that goes into behind a domestic homebody, I love finding the little artifacts left behind by former residence, mostly as the seedlings they planted continue each year with fresh blooms or rather other little garden memories. 

Looked at from a purely financial aspect, when one buys a house they purchase a mortgage through a bank, rather the bank or lender covers the cost and the buyer pays back with interest until the loan is paid off.  Rather, rent, aside from the event that the landlord or lady raises, remains at a fixed amount with no interest.  

One's rental lease may be signed for month to month or a year whereas buying a house remains yours as long as you maintain the payments and is permanently yours after the loan is paid off, unless you decide to or need to sell.  But, as learned in the housing crisis of 2008 (am I dating myself?), in the extreme event of financial hardship and recession, paying the mortgage becomes an increasing anxiety (where is the  money?) which could result in foreclosure.  

Being a renter and being at the whim of one's landlord runs the risk of losing one's residence as being a home-owner and defaulting on payment one's the risk of also losing one's residence.  Thus, the truth of a physical residence is a precarious residence and finding the home within is crucial to permanently feeling grounded wherever one lands and has an address.

There's No Place Like Home

Place

 

"It's the 'Place' of Oregon that means the most.  We must, first and foremost, cherish the 'Place'. All other good things will follow if we recognize the special beauty of Oregon first in our planning, if we revere the magic, if we protect the quality."--Tom McCall, 1970

Throughout my life, certain places have been a highlight of particular seasons of my life.  In recent times, within the last ten years or so, I have experienced fore-shadowing, of such, of the significance of certain places whose experience I have yet to behold. 

One such place is a little winery in Ruch, Oregon called LongSword Winery.  

The Story Of My Life

You're the story of my life

And every word is true

Each chapter sings your name

Each page begins with you

It's the story of our times

And never letting go

And if I die today

I wanted you to know

When I had only recently returned to life in Oregon in 2011, as a fresh bride and newly-wed with high hopes of wedded bliss and the happily ever after,  my husband would drive me out to the Applegate region of Southern Oregon to visit some ne-er-do-well type friends of his of whom we'd spend the night in secretive revelry.  Our journeys would take us past this winery and I would, for reasons unbeknownst to myself at the time, make a mental note of its place.

As time unfolded through my not so wedded bliss life, I would find in my husband one such of extremity of toxic abuse stemming from his undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenia that my dreams of living the socially acceptable life of the husband, the 2.5 kids, and white picket fence would all to swiftly be smashed in the ruins of my own daily struggles against his railed abuses.  Even before walking down the aisle towards life with him, I had spent years within the confines of a church not unlike a cult in some ways, as well as with others in my life, whose constant presence in my life did its best to devalue and destroy my inner sense of trust of my own ability and self worth.  Thus, I was prime fodder for my husband's destruction of my soul.

So, back then when I traveled past Longsword and other places which would hitherto become essential to my evolution, as a timid shell of a human looking out at the world with diminishing hope and an increasing lack of self worth, I could never imagine that the slight steps I was then taking, auditioning for a few plays, would lead me forward on a journey towards freedom from the abuse, healing through the divorce into relationships that would uplift, not destroy.  Through these strengthening me, I would increase, not decrease.

The journey would lead me to the year 2018 where I would audition for a play directed by my friend, Madeline DeCourcey, who at the time our connection had been minimal but would thereafter deepen in the ascending years to follow.  And, that audition would lead to the casting that would put me in contact with friend, Jae Unker, whose presence in my life would invite me to join her in the building up of a new theatre (Wanderlust Theatre Company) in the Applegate Valley, located at none other than Longsword Winery.

Once arriving at Longsword Winery, it would take some time before I recalled that frightened child of a woman traveling by making a mental note but once done I marveled at the journey and the realization of the Universe's guidance towards this place.  

In this place, this winery, I would become a lost boy, flying about with this new colorful family through the adventure of Neverland and beyond, beyond into the increasing development of my self worth.  

Throughout the separation of the great quarantine of 2020, their presence would remain albeit removed, not to detract, destroy, but to be an ever present reminder of the true purpose of real friendship, one's chosen family.

In this photo seen above, I sit at the read-thru of the next production of Wanderlust Theatre Company's showcases, Dracula.  I am not attending as an actor, as I have stepped back from that, a reality that seems at once strange yet natural to my growth as human and artist.  No, instead I am present as a documentarian, something my heart has longed to showcase in every play I have been a part of, and as I sit there, cross-legged, masked to protection, camera at the ready, marveling at the building up of chosen family to uplift, empower, and with that, I send the message of promise to my younger frightened self of 2011.  She will be freed and increasingly so, both external and internal, and the places she is led will be the catapult to define her soul's journey and evolution. 

In My Life

There are places I'll remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain

All these places have their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life I've loved them all

Short Film