Safe places
Some people find sanctuary in church, others find it at temple, some find it looking over a moonlit lake late on a summer night. They are safe places, locations where thoughts and emotions can be deduced and experienced with exacting clarity. In the hustle, bustle and unpredictability of the life I lead I find myself with three unconventional sanctuaries, and they're places I've always found to be completely mentally inviolable- somewhere I can shut off the ululation of the crowds, press my finger tips into my temples, rub slow circles, close my eyes and focus.
The first one: My car.
I really love my car. It was a treat I bought in 2006, rewarding myself for several profitable seasons of performance in a row. The red displays and buttons, the racing gear shift, and the leather bucket seats (as well as a very fast engine that purrs like a kitten!) settle me in. But it's not just the car, it's a certain place the car takes me. Any time I can drive on the highway at night, the music up, my headlights cutting a razor's edge of light into the darkness in front of me, I just find myself feeling like this is a place I should be in. It has carried my props and I all over the continent, and it almost feels like a cast member in my one person show.
But it is best when no other cars, trucks, or buses clamour around me for space, when I get far enough out of the city that there is no light, it becomes clear that my silver self-contained travelling island is all I need and a hot paper cup of coffee seals the deal. I remember when I first got my driver's license I spent many nights leaving the city at eleven pm, midnight, or later, and just driving on a road trip, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, to nowhere. The best conversations of my formative years came from those trips. Somewhere along the way, I'd stop on a gravel driveway overlooking a dam in a small prairie town, turn off the lights, lean the seat back and feel like life was awash in an unmistakable transparency.
The second one: The shower.
It doesn't have to be my shower. It can be any shower- I particularly love hotels for this because they have a completely inexhaustible hot water supply. Many times have I sat in the shower and let the emanation of hot water cascade over my body, eyes closed, head in my knees. I imagine it looks positively morose, but I doubt anyone is going to be keeping watchful tabs on me in the shower.
Some of my funniest jokes have been created sitting, finger tips wrinkled, in the shower. Some of my best solutions to problems have also come with having "old-man-hands." On the flip side, it was also a refuge. I once was romantically involved with someone who, at times, could be somewhat destructive. I remember sitting in the shower feeling like it was an escape pod and thinking how strange it was that even though it felt like the world was falling down around me, this weird little box, surrounded by pipes, kept it all outside.
The third one: The sauna
The idea of a sauna is so purifying. There is a wonderful sauna at my gym that is kept at a constant eighty to eighty five degrees celsius, or roughly one hundred seventy five degrees fahrenheit. Not only do I feel great after using it, especially post workout and training, I also find it calming, soothing, like with every drip of sweat that descends to the wooden floor from my nose carries with it a stress, worry, or fear.
I test myself to see how long I can stay in there, and use the time that I earn by sweating it out (no pun intended) to deliberate, speculate, and coax stubborn ideas out of my head because I know my time will be limited to a half hour at most.
Anyways.
The reason for bringing all this up is I've realized that I may need to be a little more selfish. Before you start to say "But wait, no, that's bad!" and so forth, sometimes I feel like I've accepted one too many compromises, that I've worked for one too many corrupt and unprofessional producers, that I've accepted one too many paycheques that don't give me what I'm worth, that I've taken too much on all at once amongst other things aplenty.
I've said I need to look out for myself before and meant it, and for the most part I thought I had made that manifest but somewhere along the way the strength of that idea seems to have eroded away in time. I honestly believe that I have earned the right to be selfish (in a completely non-asshole way, naturally) and that I want to exercise that right at reasonable times.
I don't see anything truly wrong with that at all. After all, it was Thoreau who said "Simplify, simplify!" So, that being exclaimed, I think it's probably time for a drive.
The first one: My car.
I really love my car. It was a treat I bought in 2006, rewarding myself for several profitable seasons of performance in a row. The red displays and buttons, the racing gear shift, and the leather bucket seats (as well as a very fast engine that purrs like a kitten!) settle me in. But it's not just the car, it's a certain place the car takes me. Any time I can drive on the highway at night, the music up, my headlights cutting a razor's edge of light into the darkness in front of me, I just find myself feeling like this is a place I should be in. It has carried my props and I all over the continent, and it almost feels like a cast member in my one person show.
But it is best when no other cars, trucks, or buses clamour around me for space, when I get far enough out of the city that there is no light, it becomes clear that my silver self-contained travelling island is all I need and a hot paper cup of coffee seals the deal. I remember when I first got my driver's license I spent many nights leaving the city at eleven pm, midnight, or later, and just driving on a road trip, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, to nowhere. The best conversations of my formative years came from those trips. Somewhere along the way, I'd stop on a gravel driveway overlooking a dam in a small prairie town, turn off the lights, lean the seat back and feel like life was awash in an unmistakable transparency.
The second one: The shower.
It doesn't have to be my shower. It can be any shower- I particularly love hotels for this because they have a completely inexhaustible hot water supply. Many times have I sat in the shower and let the emanation of hot water cascade over my body, eyes closed, head in my knees. I imagine it looks positively morose, but I doubt anyone is going to be keeping watchful tabs on me in the shower.
Some of my funniest jokes have been created sitting, finger tips wrinkled, in the shower. Some of my best solutions to problems have also come with having "old-man-hands." On the flip side, it was also a refuge. I once was romantically involved with someone who, at times, could be somewhat destructive. I remember sitting in the shower feeling like it was an escape pod and thinking how strange it was that even though it felt like the world was falling down around me, this weird little box, surrounded by pipes, kept it all outside.
The third one: The sauna
The idea of a sauna is so purifying. There is a wonderful sauna at my gym that is kept at a constant eighty to eighty five degrees celsius, or roughly one hundred seventy five degrees fahrenheit. Not only do I feel great after using it, especially post workout and training, I also find it calming, soothing, like with every drip of sweat that descends to the wooden floor from my nose carries with it a stress, worry, or fear.
I test myself to see how long I can stay in there, and use the time that I earn by sweating it out (no pun intended) to deliberate, speculate, and coax stubborn ideas out of my head because I know my time will be limited to a half hour at most.
Anyways.
The reason for bringing all this up is I've realized that I may need to be a little more selfish. Before you start to say "But wait, no, that's bad!" and so forth, sometimes I feel like I've accepted one too many compromises, that I've worked for one too many corrupt and unprofessional producers, that I've accepted one too many paycheques that don't give me what I'm worth, that I've taken too much on all at once amongst other things aplenty.
I've said I need to look out for myself before and meant it, and for the most part I thought I had made that manifest but somewhere along the way the strength of that idea seems to have eroded away in time. I honestly believe that I have earned the right to be selfish (in a completely non-asshole way, naturally) and that I want to exercise that right at reasonable times.
I don't see anything truly wrong with that at all. After all, it was Thoreau who said "Simplify, simplify!" So, that being exclaimed, I think it's probably time for a drive.