Hi Stacey

Hi, Stacey–

Trying something new, again, today. I opened up this lil blog and started writing to you because I’m at the cafe and may or may not be experiencing a sign from you right now!

The sign in question: the song “Nothing New” by Taylor Swift, featuring Phoebe Bridgers is playing at the cafe. I adore this song. More significantly, this song is one of my inspirations for my current theatre project, a play called THE GREAT PONY. I often make specific playlists to accompany my work on projects. This play’s playlist is a mix of a revenge, empowerment, melancholy croony tunes.

I am working on the play right this minute, so hearing of the the piece’s inspiration songs felt kismet. On the scale of coincidences I recognize hearing Taylor Swift in public is not a particularly meaningful one… But it is a coincidence nonetheless. If it’s you, I want to say hello. And if it’s me (meaning it is ultimately my own subconscious that decides a song is important or not), then I should take a moment to honor myself. What message am I trying to send to me, anyway?

I missed what song just played after T Swift, but now Japanese Breakfast is bumping (“Slide Tackle”). A song I really like. A song I recently posted an Instagram story of. If you’re watching me, you would have reason to believe the song is important to me. So this also feels nice, like I’m talking with the universe somehow.

I’m hoping I can finish my play revisions today. I only have two scenes left. Plus a few other tweaks. Yet I’ve been dragging my feetsies, Stacey. Not sure why. I feel confident about doing this piece for some insane reason. Now I don’t feel confident people will love the piece, though I think that’s a possibility. I just feel confident that I have to do it. I’m compelled, for some indescribable reason.

Stacey, I’ll tell you something I told my therapist many moons ago. I admitted, squirming: I’ve always worried I’m meant for Something. People have told me I am, my whole life. All over. At breakfast in Tahiti, on a dune at summer camp, my college president, my high school nemesis, my aunt, my best friend, my worst friend, my ex-friend, my ex-boyfriend, my ex-girlfriend. Sometimes I think everyone has experienced similar support–they just didn’t take it to heart like apparently I did, a simpleton. Or maybe they saw something I can’t and never will.

But it has frightened me, Stacey. The looming promise. Even if the promise is of import, I see where this world is going, so what kind of person is of important in revolutionary times? For some reason it’s hard to believe I could fulfill my purpose by cozying up with my scrapbooks like I want to. But I cannot tell a lie, I can’t only cozy up with my scrapbooks, Stacey. Some kind of soft simple life can’t be my purpose because that doesn’t sound fun to me. And I believe pretty firmly me having a say in my purpose is part of my purpose. Like how Harry could have been a Slytherin, except he didn’t want to be. So therefore, he wasn’t. This is a very long way of saying I believe in free will.

So I’ve been looking around for the past few years. Where am I to go now? Where will I be best used? Who or what can I serve to…to…make it happen. Whatever “it” is.

I fretted to my therapist, I feel like I have all these important Pieces of a Puzzle…and yet I’m not putting them Together. Then again, I am definitely trying. I had a vision for a small play that would change the world, but the producer I pitched it to was uninterested. I had a vision for a doc that would change the world, but the producer I want is having a slow mental breakdown. I asked, in session, if this is my destiny should I be pushing harder? Or is the need to push proof that none of this is my destiny at all?

My therapist’s advice really grounded me. She said maybe I get to choose which kind of force I want to be. If I want to be an abrasive pusher, I can. If I want to tube down a lazy river, as long as it’s a nice river and I stay present, I can do that instead. I cannot predict what will happen “work.” And it’s possible nothing will work, because maybe the things I’m trying to prevent weren’t meant to be prevented. I am afraid of collapse, but what if a tree must rot to grow the next ecosystem of mushrooms, you know?

Thanks for the sign. Bring them on.

xoxo

Alice

PS another funny coincidence is two days ago Dern and I had a ten minute conversation about how much we like Austin Butler and then yesterday Dern passed him on the street. How silly is that!