Saturday morning to myself.  A challenging run up a hill that kind of killed me though I’m recovered now.  Shower, new body lotion, egg and avocado breakfast, incense burning.

Alone in our new place.  The one apartment we looked at and said, we can’t live there – only if we find nothing else…and so we’re here.  It’s month to month, the plan was two, but I don’t know how many it will be now.  Money.

What do I feel now?  I’m feeling off…

I feel a mix of the loveliness of a quiet, good morning and the worry, the anxiety, the creeping uneasiness of still feeling very strange and out of place here.  You know, you walk down the street, foreign and shy, tiptoeing and smiling at everyone, a beggar for friendship.

And yet, I can see – my life is quietly blooming.

I got an internship yesterday as a script reader – unpaid, of course.  For three months you read and do coverage on two scripts a week.  It’s like a college course on screenwriting that costs nothing – that’s how I’m looking at it.  And it could lead to a job.  Or not.  Who knows – either way…

I went to a yoga class this week at my local studio – it’s great, they have a cheapo $7 class for us poor folk.  Embarrassing as it is, it’s kind of amazing I actually made it – I have spent months and months in the past talking about going to yoga classes and never once showing up.  I’ll go again tomorrow.

And yesterday – tiny miracle – I was sitting at a coffee shop, studying Joseph Campbell and Blake Snyder feverishly, feeling vastly unprepared for my internship (as caffeine will always assist any sense of nervousness and turn it into panic), when this sweet, kind of awkward young guy who works there (he’s gotta be a few years younger) started talking to me.  Turns out he just moved here three months ago, from New York (I went to NYU) but he’s from Tennessee (my man’s home), and he’s an actor.

He was sweet and a little dorky, but open.  And I know I was severely over-caffeinated, but I walked out of there riding the high of his kindness and friendliness reaching out to me.

I am collecting the good moments.  And the moments where I stretch – and trying to be aware of where I choose to and where I avoid it.  I heard this the other day: 

“Courage is a muscle.”

I think that’s true.  When you move especially, you curl up within yourself for protection and comfort.  But it’s so dangerous – it becomes a habit.  It has been for me.

So every day – a little more.  Work the muscle.  You get used to the feeling, and you keep going.


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