There are days when I am able to see the life I want. I see the life I left my old life for. It’s not perfect yet. It’s a long way from where I want it to be. But moments like today show me the possibility of that life.
Today wasn’t anything really special. I’m getting over a head cold that luckily didn’t manifest into anything more than just a couple of days of feeling yucky. The guy that I thought might be interested in me is apparently just not that into me. Typical day. Normal day.
Beth came over and did some ADR for “Mastermind” today. The film is slowly but surely coming together and I think it’s gonna be really, really good. That’s the beginning of the day I want. To be working on a film that I am wild about with people I am wild about. To be putting my energy into something extraordinary that feeds me and fills me.
Then Brad came over to finish up his part of the ADR for “Mastermind”. (For those of you not from Hollywood, ADR means automated dialog replacement - replacing dialog that’s hard to hear or distorted by something so that a film has clean dialog) Both of them have been doing a great job with this part of the production, which is kind of dull but also scary because they have to reproduce their performance vocally without being able to play off each other and do it line by line. It’s tough. But they’re great.
Brad’s ADR was short as we had already done the bulk of it the other day. So we had some time on our hands and we sat on my porch, in the sun, cool California air blowing around us. We talked about music and art and “Mastermind” and teaching (he teaches fencing, I teach fine art). There were moments of quiet where we just enjoyed the feel of the sun and having those precious few moments where neither of us is going 1,000 miles an hour.
Brad then asked if I wouldn’t mind saying a gongyo with him. Gongyo is the liturgy for our Buddhist practice where we recite part of the Lotus Sutra and then chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. He introduced me to this practice, which has changed my life. I rarely get the chance to chant with him just one-on-one and I really love it when we do. We chanted and he gave me some direction on how to improve my practice. And then he left to go teach, giving me a warm hug as he left.
I’m now waiting for Beth to return to finish her ADR tonight. Then I have a ton of work to do on “Mastermind” to prepare to enter it into Comicon for the film festival this summer. The deadline is March 15.
But as I said good-bye to Brad, it struck me that this, for me, was an almost perfect day. Doing what I love with people I love. Sitting with someone I love, sharing just a perfect moment in the sun. Yes, I know I can’t have him. He’s got a beautiful, talented girlfriend whom he loves. But I can still love him as the amazing, caring, beautiful friend he is to me. And those moments of intimacy, those moments of just being will hopefully be shared some day by someone who loves only me. But for right now, I’ll take this moment with this friend.
This is the day I can see in my future. A life filled with love. A life that is crazy and hectic and insane but crazy and hectic and insane in all the right ways. A life where I can find someone who will sit beside me on the porch in the sun and the beautiful California air and just be with me. Just love me because I am who I am. A life where my Buddhist practice becomes the routine of my life, not just a side note that I can squeeze in when I have time. A life where there is peace and joy and contentment. Clowns are banished. My old challenging, difficult, painful life is nothing but a memory - a memory to learn from and grow from, not a memory to be dragged tragically along behind me.
A few years ago, I had a glimpse of a life, which today seemed to be a sliver of. It was a vision of me, sitting in a comfortable chair near a window overlooking trees and maybe the beach beyond the trees. Beautiful, cool California breeze blowing through the open window/patio doors. I knew I was working on a film that I loved. I knew the evening held the promise of spending time with people I loved. And the man that I loved was nearby, singing from the other room, the living room filled with his guitars and maybe a piano. And I could almost see his face and the thought of him made my heart leap. I couldn’t wait for him to come into the room, carrying the music with him, because I knew he would come to me and sit with me and wrap me up in his arms, singing and laughing and loving.
And for a moment today, I could see that actually happening. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But today, I know it will. Because I want it to. Because this is why I left that world behind.
For days like today. For days like the future. For me.
