Packing... and the anxieties that come with

Fear ye not.  This will not be a post about packing (as wildly entertaining as that would be- much akin to talking about the weather or traffic).  Rather, it is serving as a convenient distraction and means to procrastination- thus avoiding (or adding to?!) my inevitable anxieties that come with the tedious, grueling and laborious task that is... packing!

Before I begin, I quick (though seemingly unearned) shout-out to one Will Bankhead, if for no other reason than his being my namesake.  Will, apparently, is also my best friend, mentor, protege (not sure how both are possible), doppelganger and better half (all title which Will (the lesser) has ascribed to himself under no consult with or agreement from me).  Nonetheless, mad props to Will Bankhead for... well... existing, I guess.

Right.  Anyway... back to procrastination.

I spent this past weekend in NYC, gloriously hoping from show to show and sitting at table to break bread with some of the dearest friends one could know.  The season that was this weekend included West Side Story (reference in previous post), La Cage Aux Folles and In The Heights.  WSS was the favorite, with La Cage being a glorious and unabashedly enjoyable (but distant) second.  In The Heights takes the bronze (not a bad result when looking at the competition).  None of this matters, though.  What matters more is experience as a whole, the 36 (or so) hours spent in the most exciting city in the world with the smartest, wittiest and most "awake" people I know (more on the "awakedness" later).

It is only in the reflection, the post-experience that the fruits of the weekend come into their fullest light.  An itinerary consisting of show, mass (yes, mass), basking, show, dinner (Joe Allen's), basking, libations, infomercial jokes, brunch, basking, show, dinner, basking- all passing at about 130 mile a minute, takes its most real form in the aftermath.  Even know, the words escape, for I know only what I experienced, and that I experienced it.  To try to define that experience, in a way, lessens it.  To put words to something, to name something, indicates an ownership, a possession.  What I experienced this weekend was not mine, that is to say, it was not solely "of me."  It was a shared possesssion, to be sure, but even as a group (consisting of high school students (sat. afternoon/evening only) college students, two jesuits, a handful of philly actors, a movie star, a choreographer and a costume designer) we did not fully posses our experience.  In fact, if anything, the experience possessed us.  The magic possessed us.  The comradeship possessed us.  The spirituality (told ya so) possessed us.  The LOVE possessed us.

Love was the through line of the weekend, as it should be all things.  No show was attended by the same group of people (in fact, there were on two of us who saw all three shows), yet we were bound by love in each and every moment.

I think, too often, we as a people are afraid of love.  Or, should I say, we are only comfortable with love when we can define it categorically.  We do not fear love in an intimate relationship (well, not all of us anyway), we do not fear love within a family.  We trust love, we embrace love, when we can put labels on love.  It gives us control over love, it gives us ownership and possession.  But to embrace love as a life force, to embrace love as a constant, to embrace love as an unknown, to embrace love as spirituality, to embrace love as God- that is when we give up.  That is when we become scared.  That is when we run away. 

Well, this weekend, we embraced it.  We allowed love to permeate our souls, our thoughts, our conversation, our silences, our experiences of theater (of which we all love), and our closeness with one another.  We gave over to love, we surrendered to the life force that is love.  In short, we showed up and allowed God to take care of the rest.  As a result, we were awakened (told ya).  If I were to try (ineffectively, I'm sure) to put words to the experience of this past weekend, I would simply say this, "I spent an incredible weekend in NYC with some of my closest friend, and we were, all of us, "awake."

I leave you with words from Anthony de Mello, SJ- an Indian Jesuit- that I came across yesterday while reflecting on the past weekend.  I found them to be one of the best, clearest definition of spirituality I have come across, and you can see the influence (in retrospect) throughout this post.  Enjoy!

Spirituality means waking up. Most people, even though they don’t know it, are asleep. They’re born asleep, they live asleep, they marry in their sleep, they breed children in their sleep, they die in their sleep without ever waking up. They never understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence. You know ~ all mystics ~ Catholic, Christian, non-Christian, no matter what their theology, no matter what their religion ~ are unanimous on one thing: that all is well, all is well. Though everything is a mess, all is well. Strange paradox, to be sure. But, tragically, most people never get to see that all is well because they are asleep. They are having a nightmare.

Last year on Spanish television I heard a story about this gentleman who knocks on his son’s door. "Jaime," he says, "wake up!" Jaime answers, "I don’t want to get up, Papa."

The father shouts, "Get up, you have to go to school." Jaime says, "I don’t want to go to school." "Why not?" asks the father. "Three reasons," says Jaime. First, because it’s so dull; second, the kids tease me; and third, I hate school. And the father says, "Well, I am going to give you three reasons why you must go to school. First, because it is your duty; second, because you are forty-five years old, and third, because you are the headmaster." Wake up! Wake up! You’ve grown up. You’re too big to be asleep. Wake up! Stop playing with your toys.

Most people tell you they want to get out of kindergarten, but don’t believe them. Don’t believe them! All they want you to do is to mend their broken toys. "Give me back my wife. Give me back my job. Give me back my money. Give me back my reputation, my success." This is what they want; they want their toys replaced. That’s all. Even the best psychologist will tell you that, that people don’t really want to be cured. What they want is relief; a cure is painful.

Waking up is unpleasant, you know. You are nice and comfortable in bed. It is irritating to be woken up. That’s the reason the wise guru will not attempt to wake people up. I hope I’m going to be wise here and make no attempt whatsoever to wake you up if you are asleep. It is really none of my business, even though I say to you at times, "Wake up!" My business is to do my thing, to dance my dance. If you profit from it fine; if you don’t, too bad! As the Arabs say, "The nature of rain is the same, but it makes thorns grow in the marshes and flowers in the gardens.