The universe speaks to me. In song, in dreams, in chaos, in wonder. It speaks. I seem to have a direct line to the cosmos. Here are a some recent examples.
The morning of Wed, Aug 7 I was having quite a dream. I was driving down the highway with an overpass in the near distance. My mom was in the passenger seat. The closer I drove, the more ominous the feeling. Then something quite large fell upon the bridge. It was demolished spewing large chunks of cement and mortar toward the car and onto the road. The first thought that entered my head was to make sure mom was okay. I looked to her. She seemed to be alright. Then for some outlandish reason, my next thought was that my asthma would be a major issue very quickly if I did not turn close the air vents to prevent the dust and smoke from coming in. As soon as I closed the vent closest to me, I awoke with a start very much like one you would see in any given sitcom.
Now, of course this has to mean something right? Having had prophetic dreams before, one of which involving the suicide of my uncle some years back, I know to pay attention to these sorts of things. I fumbled for my phone and immediately called my mother to make sure she was alright in the waking world. She was. She was just fine. So then it has to mean something else. The universe has never given me such a dynamic subconscious window without something intriguing on the other side.
So I put my mind to the task. But first, I attempted to continue sleeping. Sleeping is my escape from a world that throttles my every thought and process you see, so having made sure my mother was alright, completing my full-night’s rest was the next logical step. This proved to be a decision that will haunt me for years.
Fast forward to 10am when I was awoken once again after spending countless minutes tossing, turning, and pressuring my eyelids back into a closed position because of my extreme light sensitivity. Once awake (again), I proceeded to check my phone. That’s always my first task of the morning routine. This one was no different…except that is was. When my eyes put on their clothes and became ready to greet what they perceived, I saw that I had a missed call and voice mail from Central Casting. (Read much more about that company and others in further blogs.) It was for a rush call for a “very featured character” in a feature film and one that would be “the only character other than the principles in the scene.” It was also a character with a name.
This meant a number of things. For one, it meant that I had missed out on being handed a paying gig on a silver platter. It also meant that that paying gig was attached to what would have been my very first paid role with a name since moving here to Los Angeles. Being as the character had a name, it further meant that the role would offer a much higher rate than my normal fare not to mention an official rolling credit at the end of the film.
There are many things in this world that disturb me. This sort of occurrence is one of them. It was excruciating. At that moment, everything I’ve worked for, my very career in its entirety was focused into a single moment of guilt, pain, uselessness, denial, anguish, and soul-crushing self loathing. I’ve been through some things and this was nearly more than my poor psyche could take. Now the chance is gone and I have to live with that forever.
Then move to the other day. I was on my way to set and couldn’t help but notice the angelic, breathtaking beauty of a lovely redhead standing next to me while waiting for the train. She was the epitome of a walking goddess. She was tall, had striking green eyes, and cascading fire red locks pouring over her shoulders.
Though I try my best to be social, I am very shy. It is remote and rare for me to see such exploding beauty in front of me as I did with this girl but as I see many amazing-looking women in this city, I wasn’t even going to attempt even bothering to say hello.
Then the universe decided to push me in the right direction. My iPhone, which is almost always set on random play, was playing music set to a tone beckoning me to make myself known. From Kelly Clarkson to Ingrid Michaelson, the songs spoke of saying what you need to say to someone you feel affection for.
As we both boarded and exited not one train car but three, it was apparent that we were not only headed in the same direction but the same final drop off point. Every song that played for over thirty minutes told me to open my mouth. I never did.
As she walked away from my sight, further and further from view, I watched the lava threads draped from her head sway and dip in the wind. Then she was gone. The next song that played was one of love lost that had a very deeply chaotic rhythm. I guess I’ll never know…
There are many more examples but for now there are other blogs to write. The lesson(s) learned, of course, is that I have to listen and be open even more so than I attest to be. My body and soul depend on it.