Reboot #90210

reboot

riːˈbuːt

verb

(with reference to a computer system) boot or be booted again. 

restart or revive (a process or sequence, especially a series of films or television programmes); give fresh impetus to. 

noun

an act of booting a computer system again. 

something, especially a series of films or television programmes, that has been restarted or revived. 

On August 7, 2019, a little television show called "Beverly  Hills, 90210" that originally aired from October 4, 1990 through May 17, 2000, aired an original take on the "reboot" of series overly popular in today's media.  BH90210 was a twist, as the original remaining cast members (Luke Perry died earlier that year) gathered together, to create a story that highlighted a heightened version of their own lives, still played out on the pages of the tabloid (some more than others) mingled with the beloved characters they had lived before us.  Loyal Beverly Hills, 90210 fans waited with baited breath for this new rendition, uncertain what to expect, only with a keen interest and excitement for the return.  Not only were we excited for this new update to our beloved childhood series, but we hoped for more afterwards.  BH90210 was not continued thus, at least not yet, however still a reboot or another series is highly wanted among loyal fans alike.  Yet, perhaps a reboot of such is occurring, just not in the way we imagined.

Yes, I know that there was another 'version' of 90210 that ran from 2008-2013, however, the OG cast of Beverly Hills, 90210 has spoken openly about how they don't really see that as a viable or canon within the world of all things 90210 (Sorry to the cast & fans of that show, but that's what has been said, I don't make the rules, the OG BH90210 cast does.)  The show BH90210 not only was an original concept for the reboot, but it was also equally produced by all of the original cast members.  A cast that at a very young age had their world turned upside down in a Beatles-Esque frenzy overwhelmingly taking the control and choice from their lives as their own and giving it to us, the clamoring fans, public at large, producers, directors of the show itself.  So, good for them, to take over the power of their story, their lives, their reboot, to act in it but also to have producer power as well.

In young adolescent and teenage years, among many a fan around the world, (yes, many who chased and mobbed them down in shopping malls and other public spaces), I admired, looked up to, wanted to be like, yes, idolized these actors and their characters, papering the walls of my room with images of them cut out meticulously from Teen Beat, Seventeen, and other similar magazines, staring lovingly while drinking in any news, interviews, on their personal lives.  God, did I love them and still do.  

In addition to the posters on my wall, I looked up to them for life advice, insights, and direction, and still find myself doing.  Not yet having the chance to attend a convention where they appear, I watch as the fans today act quite differently than their younger selves, a lot tamer and more respectful perhaps from the maturity of the mind or even the lack of energy of the physical, no longer does the cast have to worry about breathless, fainting fans mobbing the stage as they flee the stage hurriedly, sometimes in laundry carts (See: Luke & Jason!).  Yet, the interest for their lives personally as well as their characters is still heightened and desired, of which, I think is both a longing for a simpler time evoking the warm fuzzies but also as age ascends upon us, we continue to look up towards them for guidance.  As a young person, they seemed not only glamourous, but so grown up.  Now as a middle-aged woman (what?!?), time has leveled out the playing field and I realize that they are only a few years older my senior.  Yet, similar to the struggles of adolescence, I find myself a wash with questions during this transition of 'rowing north' and such as my younger self, I find myself looking for answers from them once more.

Since the release and then loss of BH90210, fans such as myself have continued to clamor for more in the series, or another reboot on theirs and our show, wanting to know 'where the characters are now'.  However, with their recent appearances at conventions as a full cast or only a few, where fans can ask questions directly about the beloved characters they portrayed and shower praises of gratitude upon them, of which I, not able to attend, watch on Youtube and Instagram, spellbound drinking in their laughter, their love for one another, for their fans, their insights, their stories, their thoughts.  Even during the research for this blog, I found myself getting distracted gazing at their photos lovingly, falling down a rabbit hole of Youtube interviews, a never ending longing for the security of youth and connectivity.  Yet, perhaps a reboot of such is occuring, just not in the way we imagined.  Now, I listen with marked interest as Shannen Doherty details with clarity and truth her past history during the show, her struggles with such, life with Stage 4 cancer on her podcast, "Let's Be Clear", Jennie Garth implores us to, like her, choose and love ourselves on her "I Choose Me" podcast, Tori Spelling spills all in her own voice and her truth, taking back the tabloids sought to slander, on her podcast, "Mis-Spelling", Brian Austin Green, with his fiancé, Sharna Burgess, and friend, Randy Spelling, share insights on ways to improve one's mental health on their podcast, "Oldish".  And as I do, it dawns on me, this is the REBOOT, not what we wanted, but exactly what we needed.

We all have pop culture loves we fan-girl over (regardless of gender), that which brightens our lives with warmth, hope, guidance of sort, a comfort, that which stands the test of time as we progress through life, never wavering in the gift we treasure.   It is vitally important for our wellness journey and soul's evolution that we not discredit such love as minor, less than, or unimportant merely because it is "pop culture", for the value it gave knows no difference inwardly than any other facet of our identity.

My Favorite Song - Songwriterz

 

Sex.

 

Love's Recovery~Indigo Girls

All right, I got your attention with the title, so let me explain why it's not for me, at least, not right now. 

I came of age in a world where AIDS was the BIG illness, not Covid19, condoms were the mask to protect, abstinence was preached in my public school health classes, as a viable option in deterring any STDs or pregnancy mishaps.  The basics of how to prevent such alongside a brief description of adolescent changes were all that were given, while Hollywood and Disney spoon fed the illusion of the perfect romantic union.  Sex was then something to be both feared yet a very real necessity for romantic relationship.  As I watched Dylan woo Brenda on Beverly Hills, 90210, then later Donna give it up to David in a romantic rose petal strewn bedroom complete with the safe sex moment, I longed for, imagined almost to the detail, my own perfect moment. 

What I got, time and time again, was, although at times beautifully fulfilling and special, was also, at other times, sorely lacking and besought with devastation.  

Okay, don't get me wrong, I am not gonna launch into an article on why the purity culture is pretty darn amazing and we all should become born-again fundie virgins...no, that time of my life is way far behind me and as much as I can say that the idealism of longed-for romantic sex unrequited broke me, the toxicity of purity culture helped not either.  Actually, becoming a fundie born-again virgin, rather abstaining from sex, was the only part of that mindset that was acceptable by me, a demi-grey-sexual, who doesn't require or desire sex on the regular anyway.  The devastating part of purity culture, rather, was the overly emphasis on the female need to cover in modesty her body in order to assist the male's need not to stumble, the male who could not resist his natural urges, thus it was the female's fault for his stumbling, purity culture equal rape culture!

Thus, during my time as a fundie-Christian and the years of deconstruction, I suffered with extreme body dysmorphia, hatred, and shame for any part of my physical that represented sexuality or seemed alluring.  Moreover,  carrying into my chosen path of fundie christianity days was the shame of not truly 'waiting', of giving it up before I 'said the sinner's prayer'.  Despite the pulpit's championing that being a 'born-again virgin' was good enough, it never truly was, I remained always 'damaged goods', more shame poured upon by an already controlling organization.  ("Get outta my uterus!" my current self screams to them on behalf of my younger self.)

Alongside this, there are the years previous to fundamentalist, then the years after, relationships that turned sexual, in one way or another, that left me lacking, to say the least.  The physical exoticness' of the event overall was enjoyable but the act itself at times left me empty, causing more of an increase of my love addiction brain to further desire the intimacy, the closeness, yet never to be received fully.  Sex, in all its dimensions, seems only transactional, two bodies, at least for me, coming together for the sole purpose of the physical, leaving me feeling addled.  

Furthermore, in an allosexual world, I have felt increasingly lonely in my lack of sexual desire, not feeling understood until finally finding my place upon the asexual spectrum.  Demi-Sapio-Sexual, baby, and proud!  But, this loneliness also extends to the emotional intimacy and romantic intention lacking in past sexual experiences, (not all, mind you, current or former partners who may be reading this), that which wounded either due to not fulfilling my dream being modeled to me on the set of "Beverly Hills, 90210" and the like, or even the male partner's intention to just get down to brass tacks, with no sensuality whatsoever.  

Thus, all of this included with my first year of recovery from love addiction, leads me to the open decision to currently abstain for a season, not forever, such that I focus on the establishment of true, healthy intimacy with a romantic partner in the daily life as well as special events, while fully healing, becoming to understand and express my core values, my needs as well as red flags in a relationship of any sort, and laying down the boundary of self-respect overall.

I don't want to play this game no more 

I don't wanna play it 

I don't want to stay 'round here no more

 I don't wanna stay here Like rain on a Monday morning 

Like pain that just keeps on going on 

Look at all the hate they keep on showing 

I don't want to see that 

Look at all the stones they keep on throwing

 I don't want to feel that Like Sun that will keep on burning

 I used to be so discerning, 

oh In my recovery 

I’m a soldier at war 

I have broken down walls 

I defined

 I designed

 My recovery

James Arthur - Recovery (Lyrics)

Purely FanFiction from the 90210 Fan Girl

 The following is the exerpt from Brenda Walsh-McKay's journal:

Here's how it went down.  So, Dylan and Kelly got married in 2002, together they had Sammy, an adorable little child.  However, as much as the two loved each other, they found that marriage was not meant for them.  They continue to work to co-parent their beautiful child.  

After the marriage dissolved, Dylan took to the road for awhile to find himself through traveling, as he always had been.  I hadn't heard or seen him since I left Southern California way back in the nineties, preferring to put that time out of my life.  My brother, Brandon, had kept me in the know as much as possible, but I never insisted, only wanting to know what was pertinent to our family.  However, at the death of our father, who passed shortly after our mother two years previous, I did ask Brandon for updates on all my former high school classmates.  Kelly was still living in Beverly Hills working  as a life coach, Steve was happily married with Janet and with several children.  Donna and David were still going strong.  Andrea was happily divorced and pursuing her career as a screenwriter.  Dylan, although he kept in regular touch with his son, was whereabouts unknown to the rest.  Hearing his name brought back a pang to my heart, surprising to me that after all these times he still had that affect  upon me.

I went back to England where I have been working within the theatre and art world.  One day I was busy at my administrative job at the art studio when my assistant informed me I had a visitor in the front.  I asked her the name and she replied simply, "A Dylan McKay".  Shocked, I hurried down the stairs unbelieving that it could actually be him.

But, there he was, standing in the foyor, looking around and when I walked in, he turned to face me.  I took him in then, once again.  Although time had passed over his face, well-worn it was with the history of his life, he was still my Dylan, still the smoldering charm I had fallen for so many years ago, but somehow that demeanor had softened.   Upon seeing me, his arms opened and into them I ran, smelling the warmth of him as he embraced.  The above selfie was taken in that happiest of moments.  We agreed to meet after I finished my shift for dinner.  As he walked out the door, he turned, with a twinkle in his eye, and marveled at how I had grown to be such a metropolitan Londoner, he still considered himself the rough and tumble bad boy on the motorcycle.  Laughing we recalled the bad blonde job I had had when he and I chatted on that street nearby my Beverly Hills home.

Later at dinner, we caught each other up on the recent news from home.  He was heartbroken over the loss of Jim and Cindy, who he had always considered parents' of his own, stable, loving, always there, and full of nonjudgment.  After dinner, we walked arm in arm through the city catching each other up on all our times personally in recent years.  Surprisingly, we found each other both single at that time and suddenly in that instant realized why relationships had always found themselves going sour, it was each other we were meant for.

We spent three beautiful months basking in the warmth of rekindled love, of which I wish not to give too many details, for this at once I wish to keep private, not on display for the world's eye to capture.  Close to the end of that third month, Dylan expressed his desire to 'make me an honest woman' and capture me forever as 'his little woman'.  Knowingly, Dylan this was meant in jest but the desire to wed was simply both something we wanted.

It was a small affair.  Due to my father's demise, it was Brandon who walked me down the aisle towards my forever love, Brandon who gave me to Dylan, which feels so exactly right when I think upon it.  Kelly and Donna were there and the night previous we had a quiet girl's night similar to old times, yet the years had weathered any bad blood between us and we found in each other the wisdom of maturity that enhanced our love and friendship.  Steve and Andrea, unable to get away from their work in time, watched by zoom call.  All the modern times.

We had four wonderful years together, filled with much growth of our souls personally and united.  We enjoyed having Sammy into our home for holidays as well as welcomed Kelly, an untraditional happy little family.  

However, in the fifth year of our wedded bliss, my Dylan was diagnosed with colon cancer and at the time too far gone, not caught in time.  Dylan and I had six months together before he breathed his last, laying beside me in bed, holding my hand until the last.

I wish to share this not to wound with such sad tidings, but only to express the reality that true love is a reality, is not what I had dreamt and believed as a young teenager, and is expressed far beyond what is visible within our scope of reality.  My union with Dylan continues even though his physical absense and I still see him everywhere, as well as feel him with me at all times, as I always have.

Believe in love, not merely the romantic, but the true power of it all, that will sustain throughout all the hardships and heartbreaks of life's journey, that which is brought upon by our own frailties and also the needed lessons to help us evolve to our most highest selves. 

Me & Kate: Okay To Not Be Okay!

 

First off, I want to clear the air and let you all know, no, I'm not strangling my kitty in this photo.  This is my childhood kitty-cat, Jamocha Almond Fudge, with me around age 13.  She was attempting to get a way while my friend was snapping a photo of us, so thus I have this historically misrepresented photo of my life as a cat strangler, which I am not.   

The magazine photos of Shannen Doherty and Jennie Garth do reflect the validity of my unending adoration and fandom for all things Beverly Hills, 90210.  

Okay, so that's out of the way, now onto the meat of the message.  Why am I sharing this bizarre photo of my younger self?  Well, to continue the thread of the Eponine deep dive, by highlighting my early adolescent years and the pre-pubescent desires that emerge at that time, spear-headed on by a lifetime absorbing Hollywood and Disney films of unending romance and approval gained only in connection to another.  In so diving into this, I want to utilize the 14 year old character, Kate, I play as part of the OHSU simulated patient gigs I do.  

So, Kate Williams is 14 years old, having recently moved from West Virginia to Oregon to live with her paternal grandparents because her father has recently been deployed.  Thus, her whole family and life is uprooted, which includes her, her mother, and her little 10 year old brat of a brother, Drew, at the tender onset of her adolescence.  Added to this stress, her mother's instability begins to show, she is a frequent no-show in the new family home arrangement, in fact, doesn't really live there at all.  On top of all that, she is now starting her first year of high school, new school, new environment, no friends....Sound familiar? First Day Of School!

So, all of this is pretty heavy, right? Kate seems to manage it all fairly well.  Into her new life comes Jamie, a fellow freshmen boy who loves the same things Kate does.  As Jamie and Kate forge a platonic friendship held with the mutual love of gaming and texting, Kate begins to develop deeper feelings for him.  However, it is not meant to be as Jamie is currently in a relationship to another girl.   Ah, there's the rub, the classic unrequited love we all have learned to deal with and more so fancy in our tragic Eponine years.  Perhaps, this longing for what we cannot attain and connect with has to deal more with our unconscious belief of our unworthiness of love and that love is not real if its not fought for.  After all, didn't Pat Benatar tell us that "Love Is A Battlefield"? 

So, yeah this is what we are taught, force-fed through the media and our cohorts in the early life journey of romance.  Ultimately, it infuses in us that others' approval and acceptance is what is needed to accept and approve of ourselves.  The need for external validation begins early in life, thus which makes it difficult to unravel as we continue forward in our evolution.  However, through a lot of hard emotional work, it is possible, I guarantee it.  I Guarantee It!

But healing and emotional growth takes time, but all can be mended and we learn from each circumstance we encounter, each relationship begun and ended in whatever fashion is a vessel for our own strengthening if we only would allow it.  When I was attached to the Fundie church, they used to tell us how living the pure life was what was needed to ensure a healthy marriage and that by dating around, meaning promiscuity, we were, in effect, shedding pieces of our heart that were rightfully meant for our future spouses.  However, I do not in all truth believe that because I can say with a marked certainty that every relationship and connection, whether platonic or romantic, has only deepened my sense of self and helped to enlarge my heart, not weaken it.  (A side note: all the church succeeded in doing with thus was heighten my already sense of shame and disconnect with my body and heart. Nicely done, I say sarcastically. )

Here's the thing, going through the struggles of our Eponine existence, the rejection and heartbreak of unrequited love, can, if we allow it, be the catalyst that helps strengthen and develop our own sense of self worth, innermost strength, and self acceptance.  Thus, those we choose to give our hearts, whether accepted fully or not, even if these connections end in gut-wrenching despair, are the lessons needed to guide us deeper into a true stability of self resolve.  

The biggest lesson I have learned from playing Kate, as I dwell within the drama of her current world, that of the minor issues of being a fourteen year old as well as the major issues with her family and home life, I recognize her immense strength she has in perseverance and staying positive.  However, the take away for me, for my younger self, for Kate, and for you, gentle reader, is that "It's okay to not be okay."

It is a way too prevalent reality in society that we hide our true feelings and are not honest with our emotions.  Just in the very automatic question of "How are you?" is the equally responded "Fine", without true consideration of how we really are.  This reality is false and a detriment to our individual as well as collective souls.  I believe a large part of the evil in our society is due to the disease caused by burying our emotions and hiding our mental impairments in shame.  This is a lesson we learn very early in our lives, almost as soon as we emerge from the womb. 

Step into the light, come out of the shadows.  Let's all admit openly our pain, our flaws, our weaknesses, and so doing find comfort in our mutual brokenness, building one another up to a renewed wholeness full of non-judgment and inner acceptance.  

For those of you in the throes of your Eponine struggles, this may be difficult to surmise, but for someone on the verge of moving beyond, I can attest that the heart break and pain I endured has passed and has provided me with an inner strength, peace, and self acceptance I could not have developed if it weren't for those struggles.  Thus, the years spent as Eponine are crucial to becoming a whole person, not just in romantic connection outward but also for our own inner relationship with self.

And, finally trust yourself in the process, feel your feelings, and know this as truth:

 "It's Okay To Not Be Okay!"

So, what are your thoughts on this? Comment below.

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc.  Find out more  at: www.cafegirlproductionsinc.com and support at: www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions

11/2 Gratitude

 Morning Gratitude Affirmations

1.) Healthy food, like celery with peanut butter and raisins, aka "Ants on a log" and avocado---because they fuel me and not weigh me down

2.) Beverly Hills, 90210 because it makes me happy and fully me.

3.) Adam Sandler.  See Above For Reasons.  I have no shame in both loves.

4.) The fact that I can openly express my love for numbers 3 and 4, regardless of people's disdain, but can openly enjoy and be true to myself, is very uplifting, healing, and empowering. 

5.) My imagination and the ability I have always had to daydream and let that fuel my creative output

6.) Being an empath, though often draining, the ability to intuit the unseen feelings or emotional states of others, which affords me the uncanny ability to have correct knowledge of why, which is often not wanted

7.) Strong women role models that are mis-represented, devalued, even vilified, such as Shannen Doherty, Eva Peron, and Bettie Page!

8.) Realizing the gratitude in my time as Eponine, the lessons learned, strength of self developed, and how it has afforded me the peace of being comfortable in my own skin, so that finally I can embody all that is Cosette, accept who she is, see her value, without mockery or jealousy

On My Own

On my own

Pretending he's beside me

All alone

I walk with him till morning

Without him

I feel his arms around me

And when I lose my way I close my eyes

And he has found me

In the rain the pavement shines like silver

All the lights are misty in the river

In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight

And all I see is him and me forever and forever

And I know it's only in my mind

That I'm talking to myself and not to him

And although I know that he is blind

Still I say, there's a way for us

9.) Finding my brand, my niche, as an actor, writer, overall artist, letting that fuel my creativity and watching it unfold its own time

10.) The fact that I am a Brenda.  I am like Shannen Doherty.  Shannen Doherty is to Hollywood as I am to the Rogue Valley theatre and film world.  I own that and am 100 percent all right with that.

11.) My wonderful little mobile home, the first place where I feel I have deep roots into my life as a grown up.

Tag! You are it!!  Share your gratitude list below! I would love to hear it.

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc, a film and media company with the sole purpose of helping artists of all variety discover their thrive.  Support us at: www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions

What I learned from #BH90210, then & now

"Maybe going back is just what we need to move forward."--Tori Spelling

I look at the above photo and I am instantly transported back in my mind to a simpler time, when I could look out at the world and dream of how I wanted my life to be, before it had really begun.  I was a young, impressionable, very naive teenager living in the backwoods of the Northern California wine country.  Despite my parents' efforts to expose me to the wider world through travel, trips to the city to visit museums and see professional theater, I still had a very inexperienced view of the world about me.  A lot of it came from my taking in the current television shows and pop culture available to me at the time.  Back then, we didn't have cable or a wide access to as many stations as there are today, we only had about 5 channels to view, unless you count the grainy barely able to come in channel 11, which sometimes played the same shows as channel 7 congruently, then we had six channels.  But I digress...

Also, the Internet had yet to truly take off, so as I said above our scant access to TV, magazines, radio, the daily paper were our guide to navigate how to live in the culture of the day. 

All this to say, that we all have the tendency to look back with fondness at our past experiences.  After the hardships and wounds from the bitter slings of arrow have healed to become forgotten, we only have in our mind the happier times, the old jokes come back and make us laugh until tears spring to our eyes.  We want to reach out, re-connect with the old faces that peopled those times.

This year I have had the fortunate experience of revisiting with different facets of my past selves and for a variety of reasons been able to heal myself at those different ages, learn from them, release their wound, and travel forward with a new lightness of being.  Through different circumstances that I was brought into this year, I have visited with my 27 year old self, my 23 year old self, and my 15 year old self.  At each level, they have expressed a degree of hardship as I truly relive those painful times of doubt, insecurity, nonacceptance of who I am by being surrounded by those that do not allow me to truly be myself. 

However, the most heartbreaking was sitting with my 15 year old self after the passing of Luke Perry last March.  Luke Perry, for those who are unaware, played Dylan McKay on the nineties smash hit TV show, Beverly Hills, 90210.  Like many a fan girl of the era, I loved, adored, and crushed on him, plastering my walls with his face, vacillating between making him my object of worship or turning my attention to that of Jason Priestly.  (Ultimately, the pendulum always swung back to Luke, as I am and always have been a sucker for the bad boy.)

His loss was a major blow that felt as if a piece of my childhood had died, gone forever.  A bit of that naive outlook at life forever vanquished due to the reality of life's fragility and ultimate end.  Even though we know death is inevitable, when faced with the reality of it through the loss of someone dear, however the level of attachment, it still stings like a bitch!

So, I sat with my 15 year old self, watching the tears stream down her face, her body wracked with sobs.  She was not as easy to resolve as the 23 year old self who merely wanted to hang out with a boy she used to date of which the church had forbade or the 27 year old self who was comfortable to sit in the cafe by herself, healing the wounds of neglect from that time period.  My 15 year old was still very much a child, with no real understanding of the duties of life, unlike the twenty something selves who had experiences being a grown up. 

I've written in a previous blog from last March about my experience bringing healing to my 15 year old self, so I won't go any further with that story line.  What I do want to focus on is the desire we all have to look back with fondness and the lessons we can glean from doing just that. 

When expressing my excitement about the reboot of #BH90210 over the last few months, I have experienced some judgment from others based on the cast 'going back' and even my own fascination with the past.  But, if we were all to be truly honest with ourselves, we all look back with rose-colored glasses and all experience the same judgment from others.  This judgment is not necessarily a bad thing as a true friend can remind us of the negativity of that time period that our happy hindsight blinds us to forget. 

So, its as Tori Spelling said in the first episode of the reboot, "Maybe going back is just what we need to move forward."  In going back, we can examine every aspect of our past and find the healing to begin again. 

Its in that that I express the reasoning behind my excitement of #BH90210.  For many years, I expressed shame over my teenage obsession with Beverly Hills, 90210, to my own detriment.  I was not honoring my 15 year old self, not honoring all of who I was and ultimately who I am.  By doing so now, by proudly displaying a revised section of my closet with magazine cutouts of the cast, I am allowing a part of me, once hidden, to come forth.  And, this is not only reserved for the part of me that fixated on '90210, but all of me, warts and all, as they say. 

I accept all of it, with pride.  I accept the hard years of depression, outbursts of anger, and the happy years of celebration.  Its all made me who I am today and continually shapes how I define my path towards my destiny.  By looking back, I find the ability to not only heal, let go, but have complete pride in myself.

To quote Kelly Taylor from the original series of 90210, when faced with the choice of either Dylan or Brandon (as reflection of many a fan girl including me), she smiled with strength upon them and said,

I choose me!

Like Kelly Taylor, I do the same.  I choose me.  All of me, of all time, forever.  I choose me.

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Healing 15, 23

Increasingly in my life recently, I have felt as if the veil has been lifted, between the physical and spiritual realm.  Fresh insights and understandings heighten my life as I encounter the occurrences of daily life.  The most meaningful lesson of my life thus far this year has been the experience of finding healing and freedom within different ages of me.  

For instance, having a showcase of my original play, One Of Us, performed at a local play-reading brought back into my life a friend and former flame from the time of life the play is very loosely based upon.  This relationship started around age 23 and by restoring a friendship with this man, this red-head, I have been able to re-examine the part of myself that once fell for him and the reasons behind the relationship's demise, namely the church's intrusion in the matters of my heart.  As I struggled with these feelings, my 23 year old self asserted herself.  

"Please," she explained.  "Just let me explore this without worry, concern, or influence.  I never got that before, its very therapeutic."

So, as a good enlightened older self, I listened and let her have it, and thus the healing has begun, then as it is now.  

This last Monday, March 4th, my poor 15 year old self was dealt a heart-break of her own kind.  One of her teen heart-throbs, Luke Perry, died of a massive stroke on that day, finding this out after a morning walk where the Universe gifted me with a stock pile of heart shaped rocks.  Love in abundance, let me tell you.  

 As the shock waves erupted over me due to that loss, I was once again back into the reality of my teenage self.  I meditated upon the significance of this show in my early life and how, like most things in my past, I have been afraid to proclaim my love of and admiration for it.  As I sat through my pain, my 15 year old came to me, distraught, sobbing, at a loss for words, insisting that I buy her '90210' t-shirts as a memorabilia.  I tried to explain that the finances were not really available for this special treat, but at 15 she was still not clear on the concept of finances and the issues surrounding money.  She sat begging before me, unable to understand her emotions.

My 23 year old self was a little more understanding.  She was a recent graduate of college, was working a full-time job, had rent, and other financial issues to attend to, so thus all she requested was to hang out with the boy, maybe to grab a cup of coffee or a drink with him sometime.  Okay, that's it.  We can do that.

But, as I looked over at my 15 year old self, I took all of her in, recalling everything that was her world back then.  She had already suffered the heartbreak of two boyfriends leaving her, one of which who had bounced into a relationship with her so-called best friend, maybe an hour after giving her the big dump.  One of her other friends had disappeared off to Chico with her boyfriend and just vanished from her life.  (You  have to remember this was basically pre-Internet or cellphone, so there was no real instant communication, unless face to face.)  Her siblings had all gone off to college, leaving her at home alone with her parents.  She was trapped up on a hill above a very small rural vineyard-filled town.  She was very much alone and very much depressed, and if she hadn't already, she had made her first suicidal gesture.  She'd spend much of June, laying in her bed, unable to move until 12:00 pm, when she would begrudgingly pull herself from bed, until the Prozac kicked in and elevated her mood, a bit, just a bit.  Beverly Hills, 90210 was more than an escape, but just as much apart of her understanding of the world as her physical surroundings.   Added to this, death is a lot more intense than having an old flame return to your life, especially to a young naive 15 year old girl who had yet to experience the reality of mortality.  

So, yeah, I gave in and bought her those t-shirts and immediately the crease in her brow relaxed, the crying lessened, she sighed deeply.  It wasn't that that I had spoiled her rotten, instead I had allowed her to feel heard, which made her feel she mattered, which lessened the extent of her far-reaching pain.  So much of her life, and mine, I have spent personally de-valuing me and allowing myself to be devalued by others, to not share myself in fear of being rejected, losing out on love.  That same day, I made the public announcement of my love for Beverly Hills, 90210, another facet of acknowledging my younger self and releasing myself and her from living in any sense of shame.

Its just a TV show after all, from the 90's.  But, the act of proclamation runs deeper than that.  Its proclaiming with pride who I am, what I value, and receiving love from those who equally value me.  Its allowing myself the freedom to express myself and the reassurance of being heard, thus my value and self-confidence grows exponentially.

When death comes in, I always am gifted with a valuable lesson by the one passing onward.  I feel grateful that by his passing, Luke Perry helped me to acknowledge a deeper love and appreciation for myself, a willingness to be open, vulnerable, and truthful.  Basically, allowing me to come into myself more fully and be truly me.  I am eternally grateful to him for that as well as the entire cast of my beloved teen favorite TV show, Beverly Hills, 90210.  Rest In Power, Luke & much love to his cast-mates, many thanks, 15 year old Lia!

Death Is Nothing At All