Unexpected Play

When I was living in Austin, I wrote the first scenes for countless plays that never got finished. For reasons I won't elaborate on here, I wasn't ready to move forward with what I'd started.

Last night, I broke through a barrier with my writing. The barrier was more like the Great Wall, ten feet in front of my face, but I never noticed it. Or at least I didn't consider the vast expanse on the other side, so I never thought about what it was keeping me from seeing.

I wrote perhaps the most personal thing I've ever written last night. Well, really it was this morning, because I was too focused to sleep. That gave birth to my previous blog posting, which, in turn, opened the door to a whole new level of self-discovery.

Today, I organized the files on my computer. In doing so, I uncovered the seeds of a great play by combining the scenes scattered across my hard drive. It's amazing to me that for the past four years, without meaning to, I have been writing a piece darker and more beautiful than anything I've ever done. Trust the muse. Her methods are unknowable, but she always leads you to the fountain of fulfillment.

Since moving to Boston, I've met two people in whose paths I believe the stars have placed me. The first is Marisa Iocco, one of Boston's most celebrated chefs. The day after my plane landed last September, I interviewed for a job with Marisa. The meeting, a profoundly synergetic connection that promised great things. Today I understand why we came together. She is a life force, the possessor of a reiki touch that warms my soul and fuels my mind. I cannot wait to show you what we are working on.

The other person--and this should be no surprise to regular readers of this blog--is Sonia Carrion. Forget the fact that, before we met in Boston, she once lived in the same apartment that I did in Austin. Forget the fact that we share an unconscious vision for something greater than ourselves. It's the times when we're apart that make this more special than anything I've ever known. In the separation, I feel her rooting me on as though she were standing next to me waving pompoms and doing jump splits. It's magic, and it's going to blow you all away. That's not boastful, just an acknowledgment of the pure potential offered by such a real, challenging, nonjudgmental collaboration.

What a thrill this move to Boston has turned out to be. I'm satisfied in ways too precious for words. Thank you universe, thank you muse, for letting me understand that everything happens exactly the way it's supposed to.