Rejection... humility...and something, something else... some kinda way

Sunday morning I woke up in my sister's bed, preparing to help her with breakfast, when I opened one of my four email accounts. I skimmed through the superficial nonsense to discover an email that was sent from the North America Association for Drama Therapy. 

I noticed it was long.

And wondered if it is long, would it be like getting a thick envelope in the mail after applying for school or a grant or a loan?

No.  It was just long. 

"We... thank you... your submission... conference... unfortunately..."

I did not read it in full.  I could not bare it.  I had been rejected by own community.  I didn't want to know why.  I surmised that this was retribution. My penance. I felt my insides wretch... humiliated... confused... unquestioning.

And then that still small voice inside of me said,

"But Karimah, didn't you reject them first?"

"But I recanted!  I recanted!" I did.

I really did. 

I recommitted my life to drama therapy, proselytized for the sake of theatre and healing and wellness and good.  For some of my colleagues, drama therapy is both a religion and a cause.  It is the how and the why.  My daddy said that getting rejections is a sign of growing up.  It is a sign that you are doing good work.  It made me feel a lot better.  I felt 12 again.

Just a day earlier, my nephew lauded me on my acting chops - or perhaps it just was my capacity (not to be confused with propensity) to lie.   He doesn't like surprises because he does not like being lied to.  But he was admittedly impressed by my ability to genuinely surprise him.  I, myself was impressed by my improvisational skills.  It seemed to allow something to well up in me and I was reminded of how much my body misses theatre.  I started to remember my days training with the Margolis Brown Theatre Company in Minneapolis.  I trained with the world renowned Kari Margolis herself.  I felt more alive in that week than I had in many, many years.  My body teemed with excitement as I recalled how Kari pushed me, pushed me, pushed me.  Hard.  By the end of that experience, Kari wanted me to train with the company - really train.  Become a part. 

I chose to become a drama therapist.

My meditation today has been on my heart's deepest desire. 

I thought for a spell that it was getting my PhD.

I soon realized that getting a PhD is my head's desire.

My heart's desire is to go and train my body to perform.

And perform.

I still want to facilitate workshops and teach.  I could study expressive therapy and prepare my body and my spirit.  And travel... what if I really could do it all? What if I really SHOULD do it all?