Just try it on

I've been thinking a lot (Which means this is going to be a long post, but would you expect anything less?) about a lot of things. Do to circumstances beyond my control that I'm not talking about here, my life got a little topsy turvy after I got back from Sundance. Which is why despite repeated promises to the contrary I still haven't written about the phenomenal time I had while I was in Utah. There, it was phenomenal, knowing that should tide you over right? (Is that the right kind of tide? tied? I've never had to write out that expression before...)

Anyway, back to the thinky things. There have been a plethora of revelations in the last threeish weeks (a month ago yesterday I was on the plane headed down there, how weird is that) since I've been home, and I will list them here because if I don't I'll ramble and forget them all:

1. I have no friends. At all. At least in my age group that I see and hang out with regularly

2. God has a gentle and wonderful nature that I have seen more in three weeks (at least in my own life) than I think I have in the other 1224. (Yes I just used my calculator to figure that out)

3. The internet is a great place for theological reflection.

4. I am a confident, competent human being (who knew?)

5. I want to be an actor more than just about anything in the world right now.

There were probably more than that, but I don't want to bore you with the little ones, and I can't think of anymore.

Now some of you are probably thinking, "Nicki, you want to be a pastor. You're going to seminary to be a pastor. You've spent a proverbial sh*t ton of money learning skills so you can be a pastor." Which is all true, if you replace 'pastor' with 'person who works with people and the arts and finds ways to resolve conflict in groups that don't like each other through worship using creative media'. I'm still working on a shorter job title.

But here's the thing. I can do all of the above scholastic learny bits and still do theater or movies or what have you. The bonus side is that some of the gigs might even pay. And theaters are always looking for crew, so even if I can't act I can still make connections that will get me money and experience with the community here in Seattle.

Which leads me to the giant domino picture God has been setting up around this decision since before I left for Sundance. I won't walk you through the entire process, but here are some highlights:

• I worked with BroadwayBound (the company my oldest nanny kid works with, which is a totally awesome company I would love to work with eventually) on a volunteer basis and absolutely LOVED the time I spent backstage with the kids. I also made some contacts within the greater theater community here in Seattle.
• I interviewed for a job that didn't necessarily seem like a great fit, but putting myself out there seemed important (I was also running out of money)
• I went to Sundance and had the aforementioned phenomenal time, but kind of figured out that I had more fun with the children's theater than I did bumping shoulders with all the film people (who were still wonderful, I just felt a little out of place, which always makes me moderately uncomfortable with whole situations)
• I found out I didn't get said job, and after a good cry figured out what it cost me to try and fail. Turns out, not all that much.
• I got back from Sundance a key piece of my life inadvertently fell apart, and I realized that my community here doesn't actually exist, partly because I'm bad at friends-ing, mostly because I never leave my room.
• I was taken to lunch to talk about the hiring process I had just been a part of and got told that I should think about where I was focusing my time at the moment, kids or art. I expressed for the millionth time how much I want arts and kids to be assimilated in my life.

• I found out BroadwayBound is most likely hiring someone to fill a position they are losing, and made no effort whatsoever to contact them despite feeling like I should.
• I spent a week in this weird space where I knew change was coming but I had no idea what it was and felt mildly to moderately miserable about just about everything happening in my life right now.
• I talked out the big stuff going on with like 5 people, but didn't really see a change on the horizon. I did feel weirdly comfortable with living in an ambiguous space of unhappy-but-dealing, which I blame entirely on my semi new status of individuated adult (not grown-up, I'm skipping that bit like a bad cut scene)
• I went to a Daft Punk laser show with my friend Annie and like a million other people. 

That last one may not seem like much, but it was the one tiny piece that knocked all the others into place, because it was after that laser show, standing outside the Pacific Science Center in temperatures that have no right being so low this time of year, that I had a conversation that kind of changed my life.

I don't know Annie's friend that well, so I'm not gonna use his name, but suffice to say that he is a local theater dude, he discovered I majored in theater in college, and he is politely pushy. He asked me about what I liked to do, skills I had, and what I'd done. I answered every question as I typically do. I'm mostly backstage, I'm a professionally, classically trained vocalist (and really good to boot), I've done quite a bit of backstage work, but not since college. Upon hearing that I sing, and that I'm good, he asked if I preferred straight plays or musicals.

I tried to backpedal, as I always do. Well, since I sing, musicals, but most of my work is backstage.

Yes, but it doesn't have to be.

Seven little words ended our conversation. I had no idea what to say in response, and by then most of the group had broken up and we were all ready to head back to our cars. I think I made some ambiguous gesture and maybe a noise. I can't remember.

My entire drive home all I could think about was what he had said, and how I had backpedaled so hard despite being interested in the conversation, and all the moments in the last three weeks I'd thought about my theater training and how wrong it was that I've never done anything with it. And I thought about how much time I spend caring for other people. Youth group, Girl Scouts, Sunday School twice every Sunday, my kids at home, my babysitting kid, Midweek childcare. And I love all of those things, to certain degrees anyway. I love helping people, and giving back, and all the things I get from working with all these amazing people.

But then I looked at my life with a different pair of glasses.  What do I do for me? And I thought of the abandoned canvases, and knitting projects, and writings, and drawings, and scripts, and movies, and room decorating, and sewing projects. And I realized that I've spent the last 6 months trying to make community out of art supplies.

And then it hit me. Driving up I-5. The thought to end all thoughts. What would it hurt to try?

And that ladies and gentleman is the moment I realized just how much I've grown in the last several months. I am no longer the girl that's so terrified of rejection that I can't even apply for a job. I am no longer the girl that refuses to do things because there's the tiny possibility that I'll fail. I am no longer the girl that focuses more on what other people think of her than what she thinks of herself. And if I do say so myself, it feels kind of amazing.

There are still other things I'm dealing with. Getting back into acting means body image crap I'd rather not deal with, a lot more rejection than I'm used to, and facing all the demons I tried to use acting to hide from the first time around. But I feel weirdly ready for it. I'm surrounded by people that love me. I have a faith that allows me to believe that there's someone up there who has my best in mind. And I have a strong sense that at least for now this is my path. It was shown, I chose it, and at least for a little while I'm seeing where it leads. And I have a feeling it's going to be awesome.