S2;EP6 - The 2019 Chronicles: There's No Business Like Show Business

*Whispered/Sung* “You’ve got to change your evil ways, Geisty…”

-Today

Hey, gang! Welcome to my life – where anything is possible and nothing is as it seems. I’m Freedom and I’ll be your host, coming at you from within the depths of Geistopia.

Welcome To My Life is a project, an experiment in Life and ART. A living storyboard, if you will. Its premise is that life is experiential, and that you can, and do, experience the life you choose. It is based on The Wheel of Life and The ARTs for The New Millennium as life building tools.

Welcome to my Life is an I T.V. Studios/Geist…House Players Production, in association with the Center for Creative Inspirationalism. JustUs Productions, the parent company, would like to give a ‘Shout-Out’ to the following for their ongoing, and oft-times unknowing, inspiration and support:

Princess Cuddlebug

Princess Sunshine

Craze & Co.

The Shaman

The Pillar

F’n Bob

The Entire Putt-Putt-Putter Clan

Professor Siggy Chong

The VanMan and General Ralph Glossop (may they R.I.P.)

PDT

‘Blue 326’

The Original KLT

The Looch

The Baker

Bert-on

Andy Pandy

The Mudder

Hoagie

Superstar

The Wix-ians

Piz-Niffer

Jersey

Dancing Queen

The Anomaly

Downtown Encyclopedia Brown

Baby-Mama Rabbit

And, of course, a very generous sponsor who (not-so-much) wishes to remain anonymous.

It is…Sunday, March 17, 2019. Time...Ticking.

Theme of the Week – Reflections

Lesson of the Week – Ask & It Is Given

Observation of the Week – “It’s Show Business Kid…The Whole World, Showbusiness...”

FeedBack:

Fun times! We actually have some Feedback. Everyone knows how much I love Feedback.

WALT: Giving, not receiving.

Hey! Nobody asked you. Anyway, Lori writes, “Keep on writing, Matt!” Well, Lori…here ya go.

And my good friend, and cohort, The Looch, writes, “Thank you for showing a vulnerability and openness like never before. This was truly an eye=opening read and you know I’m pulling for you…I felt you were more open and let your guard down…also, there was a lot less Matt Mumbo Jumbo and I was able to follow along. Lol.”

Welllll….Loochie Pooch…

WALT: Cooch??

P…Puh…POOCH

JOHNNY: Walter!!

WALT: Knock it off!

Anyway, my friend. Thank you very much. As I said in my original reply, I do not quite get the vulnerability. As usual I was just a guy dopin’ along – goin’ with the flow and all of that. So, I don’t see it. But, I am glad you do. I am glad it spoke to you, touched you. And, yes! I do know you believe in me and that means more than you will ever know. As for my Cryptic “mumbo-jumbo,” it is true it can be a bit confusing sometimes. But, I promise you, everything you need to know is laid out before you. You may have to dig a little – go back a few posts, or even to older blogs – but the key to deciphering it is always within the writings themselves.

Soooooo….Walt….

Whatta ya…whatta ya…whatta ya…

WALT: Spit it out, man!

What do you just randomly show up at my friends’ houses now?

WALT: It seemed like the thing to do at the time. It’s alright. The hot lady wasn’t home…her goofy husband was though…looked kinda like a pig…made of iron.

*blank stare* Really….really?

WALT: What?

That’s all ya got?

WALT: I wasn’t prepared.

*shakes head* Professionals, ladies and gentlemen, down to the last drop…good to the last drop.

WALT: That’s what she said.

JOHNNY: Walter!

WALT: Stop…calling…me…Walter! I’ll have you know my name is Waltholemew.

JOHNNY: Waltholemew?

WALT: That’s what she said…get it? Cause her mouth was stuffed with…

Whoa! Whoa, whoa! No, no, no.

WALT: I was gonna say sausage.

That’s not any better.

WALT: Pickle?

D’ya…zip it! Stop!

WALT: At least I didn’t say dildo

Oh, for the love…are you off your medicine?

WALT: I’M the medicine…and he’s the disease.

He’s diseased?

WALT: That’s what she said!!! *both laugh.*

JOHNNY: Gentleman, please. We have a job to do. We must remain disciplined and focused at all times.

Boy, did you come to the wrong place.

JOHNNY: Reverend, have you forgotten that you are living in a treehouse?

Hut.

JOHNNY: What?

It’s a treehut.

JOHNNY: Treehut. You do understand that this is very serious.

It is what it is what it is what it is. And, it is mine. Make of it what you will. People’s reactions to it can fascinate me. Most take it in stride. They don’t quite get it and I can see the confused and curious looks on their faces. After a few jokes, explaining that it is a long story, and assuring them that everything is ok they relax and accept it. Some have been very supportive, offering assistance and upgrades and the like. And, still, others remain unsure, maybe even condescending. For those who truly know me, I imagine it is not shocking in the slightest. Of course my life has brought me to this. Why wouldn’t it?

It is but a tool for learning and growth. With solitude and seclusion comes clarity. I couldn’t get a clear head in Old Geistopia. Between their negativity towards me and mine towards them, the air was very clouded. And, with everyone’s schedules, the chances for clearing the air as well as myself were few and very far between. This becomes dangerous.

A Little Negativity Goes A Long Way

The negativity isn’t about animosity on any level. I don’t think any of us truly dislike each other. [Well, Boom-Dee-Aye may have some towards me, but I can’t say with certainty.] I think it is more about misunderstanding and miscommunication. Again, don’t get me wrong. The Household has had its problems for several decades. But when my life changed 21 years ago, we really lost touch with each other. Any connection that did exist began to dissipate. They couldn’t understand my new life and I didn’t know how to explain it to them.

There was so much that they already didn’t know. A variety of paths already walked. There was the night I was slain and the visions that had come along with it. There was the First Quest, which they never once really asked about. And, as you may have noted by now, I only tell the story in pieces – each little tale as it becomes fitting and appropriate. It never seemed appropriate with them. They were very apparent in that they didn’t want to know. Now, I can’t say if that is because they truly did not care or if it was because they couldn’t understand and it was easier just not to deal with it.

I can understand their confusion and frustration. Up until that point in life I had an average of about 2 years at any one job. It took a long time to recognize the pattern. What would happen is that at 2 years I would always have peaked, coming to a place where there was no longer growth and advancement. Everything would come to an even keel, become routine and regimented, and I would become bored and restless. Many, if not most, of those jobs would end in catastrophe. [One of them I left after an Incident in Geistopia. I was planning on packing and leaving – another interesting Theme over the years. But, that is for another time.]

It is because of this pattern that, over the past 20 or so years, when a job hasn’t felt right I would leave it or just not take it at all. I found that when I didn’t heed the signs and symptoms things would always end in disaster – such as the first Barista position. Sometimes, even when I did try to find resolution and balance things would still go awry. When it wasn’t right it just wasn’t right.

Anyway, so here I was [20 some years ago] leaving a job – after 2 years – to travel the country. [Or, so I thought.] This was beyond my parents’ comprehension. The possibility of such a shift in life and direction wasn’t even part of their mindset. The fact that I proclaimed that I was doing so at the direction of Spirit, or G-d, made it all even more inconceivable for them.

They didn’t understand, but, before I left, they were supportive in their own way. They had wished me well and gifted me with cards and cash to help along the way. The trip hadn’t lasted nearly as long as I had planned and intended. Part of it was that I was not ready for the commitment I was making. I found excuses to come home. Part of it was that the trip was never supposed to be as long as I had thought. About 9 days that Quest lasted. I think I was gone for almost two weeks, but the Quest itself was only about 9 days. [Such a telling number – 9.] Though the shortened time frame may have seemed a failure to most, a lot happened in those 9 days. There were quite a few of life-changing, perception-shifting moments along the way.

When I returned to Geistopia, I had no intention of returning to my old life. Something new had been presented to me on the road and I needed to pursue it. This did not bode well with the family .They were adamant about me returning to the world in a ‘regular’ job. Instead, I had found the Tarot job - which only lasted until around my Death. [My Death being one of the many things about which the family has no clue.]

After that, the pressure was on to return to the ‘working’ world. My old job had offered to take me back. It was funny. They had offered me part time, but because of the pressure from the family, I begrudgingly took full time. That job would not last very long. And, so the tensions would begin. Add to that the tensions we were already carrying with us from 14 and the fights in between and mix in the secrets from a youth of which I only have a vague recollection and it is a recipe for disaster.

It wasn’t all horrible. There were times when it was family-like, mostly when I was needed. For instance, The Feud with The Dickhead Next Door. I do not know exactly when or how this whole thing got started. There are stories, but I have never quite understood, nor remembered them. I can recall an argument in which my mother, father and I were all outside yelling back and forth at him. I was as bad as my parents in that moment – yelling, carrying on, name calling. What had me set off was the way he was talking to them, the things he was saying. He was telling them that they were animals and that my father should keep my mother locked in the house. Now, don’t get me wrong. Dude’s right. They’re fucking nuts. But, he doesn’t get to say it, cause I don’t know him.

Over time I would mellow out a bit towards him. There were still occasional head to heads between him and Craze. I would get involved at an enforcer level. It wasn’t about keeping peace, but defending my father. Until, one day, all of that changed.

I was up in my room, THE room. The one that beckoned to all. I was totally zen-ed out. In fact, I had just reached my peak when the phone rang. It was Boom-Dee-Aye.

“Matt, you better come down here. Dad is out in the yard getting into it with the neighbor again.”

This was not an unfamiliar call. I had received it numerous times before. I headed downstairs and found them out back faced off at the property line. I went over, got in between them and sent Craze away. I had to yell at him to get him to walk away. He just wouldn’t stop confronting.

When I did finally get him to walk away I turned to the neighbor and said, “I’m sorry. He gets a bit carried away.”

The neighbor then proceeded to tell me how he felt, what was happening. It seems that Craze was not so subtly harassing the Dickhead in a very threatening manner. Craze has this infamous stance he takes when he is feeling particularly scrappy. His feet parted and planted firmly on the ground. Biting down on the tongue sticking out of his Joker-esque grimace. Legs rocking as he pounds his hands together. All the while a soft but guttural chuckle pierces the air. I know this look well. I have gotten it many times over the years. It is the same look he used to give The Putter when he first moved in next door. [And, now, they are good friends. Almost family.]

He went on to say that it was every time he came out of the house and that his kids didn’t want to come out in the yard. I sighed deeply and assured The Dickhead that, truly, Craze was harmless. He wasn’t going to hurt him…and certainly not the children. “He just likes to blow off steam.”

This became known as “The Day I Betrayed My Father.”

I preferred to think of it as saving him from doing something stupid.

But, something stupid happened anyway. One day, Craze came home from his daily walk with a big ol’ shiner. It seems he had a tussle with The Dickhead down at the corner. And, Dickhead was in his car. Now, there is a story of how it all went down, but I have other notions. When Craze latches onto something he has a very tough time letting go. There is a story from when mom was pregnant with me. One night, after a bar performance with the band dad got into a fight. Some guy had hit on my mother and Craze called him outside. The band had to rip my father off the guy because he was pounding his head into the cement.

Once, in an argument, he almost choked the life out of me. He had me pinned to the ground, his hand around my throat. Big ‘D’, who had just been screaming obscenities at me, was suddenly pleading with him to let me go because I was blue in the face. He didn’t care, but he did eventually let go.

This is what I was trying to avoid that day in the yard. He’s harmless unless you provoke him. And if you let him taunt you, you will inevitably provoke him. It’s why he taunts you.

Now, I did eventually determine officially that he most certainly is The Dickhead Next Door. Years later he would tangle with me. He verbally pushed me until I inevitably pushed him back - physically. Granted, I sort of tricked him into it. We were standing at the same line, only further back on the property. We were faced off, screaming back and forth. This was the second encounter in two weeks. He just kept pushing and pushing – poking the bear, as it were. I noticed that every so often he was getting a little closer to me. I let him get only so close and then shifted backwards just a bit. Sure enough, he took that step. So I shifted back again. Once more he instinctively pursued. After all, I was backing off so he thought he was winning. Finally, my eyes flicked to the ground. One more step and I had him. So, I shifted once more. He took that one last step. Up into my face, so close, and yelling. Then…BAM! My hands came up, crashing against the front of his shoulders. He raged and stepped forward again.

BAM!

Again, he stumbled backwards.

I looked him square in the eye and pointed to the space between us, bringing his attention to where we were standing.

“Go ahead and step across that line one more time…I’m not my 70 yo father.”

This collision was so outrageous that one of the men from the neighborhood behind us later told me that he was ready to run over and get my back. He said, “That guy was relentless. You kept trying to walk away and he just wouldn’t stop.”

Interesting. That is precisely what my family does. If they’re not ‘winning’ they will not stop no matter how much you walk away.

Reflections.

There was an argument with Big ‘D’ last year. I walked away 5 times. I had already very plainly stated my position on the matter two weeks prior. I was not changing my stand and I was not having an argument. By the third time I walked away, she was chasing after me. She just wasn’t going to give up until I fought back. Yelling and screaming and telling me how I, “would not be living here soon,” if I didn’t concede.

(Reflections.)

But, still, I say it is not about any of this. Not for me anyway. I don’t care that these things happened. Things happen. It’s not a big deal. I can move beyond it. It’s Not About What Happened, But What We Learned From It.

I learned that it can only repeat itself so many times. Eventually, it becomes not ok anymore. That is sort of where I am at right now. Just how many times can the pattern and behaviors continue? They will continue, because the problem has not been solved. And, the problem is misunderstanding.

We all want the same thing. We all desire the same end. We just see the path there very differently. For my family it is all very cut and dry, black and white. Life is what it is and that is all there is to it. For me, it is a bit more than that. But then, my experience of life has been very different. It has given me a different perspective.

I say life happens as it should, no matter how it happens. It is precise and perfect. The good, the bad and the indifferent all serve a purpose. There is a plan and it plays itself out, with or without our help.

Sometimes I am able to follow the signs and get where I am going. Very often, I trip into it, stumbling along the way. On other occasions, I have been forcibly moved into place. But, always, I am in the right place at the right time for the right purpose.

We all are.

It can leave a person confused and overwhelmed at times. Especially the things that challenge us, the struggles. We can bang our heads against the wall as we seek understanding. It can become frustrating, infuriating even. But, in those times, all we need do is ask, ”Why?”

Ask and you will get the answer.

For instance, last week, I wrote that I am somewhat struggling with The Theatre. Not with the job itself, nor the people there. But, there is the question of my future. First, even with the new plans, is The Theatre going to be sustainable? Then there is the matter of the personal issue, the thing that makes me wonder if it isn’t just time to cut and run. This week there were two conversations.

In one, I was given permission to work up to 40 hours a week – as long as stuff is getting done. [And, there is lots to be done.] This is a big step. I have been hesitant to load up on hours without permission because it is the slow part of the season and I know we are trying to run lean and mean in preparation for the new plans. If I can reach 40 each week it would make a difference. I couldn’t make a change but it would make a difference.

The other conversation was to tell me that the bosses have discussed another pay raise for me. This would be the second in a year. The word ‘salary’ has also come to the table more than once. Now this could make a significant difference. I still don’t know if, on its own, it could make all the difference. But, it would certainly take care of a good part of it.

Either way the answer was made clear. The response came quickly. A promise for the near future and a plan for the present.

The dental problem continues. In fact, today I think it worsened just slightly. Now teeth represent decisions and it is true I can make rotten ones…sometimes on a daily basis. Here’s my Observation on that this week.

For years I avoided theatre because of my situation. I just assumed no one would cast me. I’m not sure I would have cast myself. It’s show business and in show business appearance is everything. Yet, here I am now and I am being asked to audition and take parts. The Theatre has asked me to fill in a part in the next show. They had actually wanted me to do a full role but my schedule with the Middle School and the Gala that goes along with it made that impossible. And, next Sunday, I am auditioning for another paying gig. This one is with the director from The Production. I am feeling at my worst, my most self conscious…and I am at my biggest demand in years. [Not that the demand itself is big, but you get the idea.]

It is almost 40 days since this Quest began. It has been a journey in re-discovering the self, showing me who I am and what I need. It has happened in progression.

In that first week, when I was in my car, I had the essentials. Just enough clothing on hand to muddle through. And, The Princesses brought me more. I had all of my important documents and paperwork needs. I had my computer. I had no money, but the Universe was quick to respond and this made me able to buy food and keep gas in the car for warmth.

Over time the supplies grew. I moved into the Treehut and had more space with which to work. I gathered more clothes, bought more food. I got a heater. I had a bed (of sorts.)I collected my books and my incense and my hemp. I created a space. This is important to me. I must have a space from which to work.

For many years, prior to my children, it was the bedroom. I would station myself there and work out as necessary. When no one would be around and the house was silent and still it would very often be the kitchen or the living room. I would get settled in a space and go about the house doing various chores and tasks all at once. As the years passed on, it would inevitably become The MattCave. This was the greatest central hub of all. It became the storehouse for all my doings – crafting, office work, entertaining and even ritual. It put me in a location at Geistopia that gave me easy access to the yard, the garage, the sheds. Even the house itself was only a few steps away and easy to flit in and out of all day long. I need a place to which I can tether myself. Otherwise, I get lost in my day, floating around aimlessly.

The Princesses are important to me. It is why G-d placed me back here – so that I could still see them and interact.

My spirituality is important to me.

Routine and regiment are important to me and something I must get back to sooner rather than later. [This also ties into the spirituality.]

The stage is important me in all of its aspects. I love being in a show or building a show or directing and designing a show. I could be in a theatre all day every day and not think twice about it. The more shows I have my fingers in at one time, the happier and more alive I feel.

Isolation Leads to Introspection.

The Lesson of both The Hermit and The Heirophant.

Deep down inside I desire to do good. I want to lift the world up. At one point in history, a clerk at the local convenience store only knew me as The Smiley Guy.

“You’re just always smiling.”

In fact, once, in prison, I was asked, “Do you fall asleep with a smile on your face every night?”

I simply smiled and responded, “Yes.”

I want to be that guy again. I want a smile on my face. I want it to put a smile on someone else’s face.

I want people to feel strong, confident and comfortable in their own lives. This can be a very difficult thing to feel. Life will challenge and push us, no matter how perfect it may be for us.

I want to do right, even when it is the difficult choice to make.

This past week the family’s cellular account went over its allocated data. This was my fault. All that time in the car I had no real access to wi-fi and so a lot of data was used. The very last day of our billing cycle we were charged $15 for another bit of data to use. I sent the $15 over to the house with Cuddlebug. It made life tight on me, but it was my fault and I had the money.

An associate of mine had a theatrical opening night this week. He and I haven’t really spoken in some time, though we see each other every week. There was a falling out. This was one of the casualties of The Occurrence. Still, as a fellow thespian, it didn’t seem right not to wish him well. So, I did.

I work in cycles. I have written of this before. My most common Cycle is The Wheel of the Year. Once again, I am watching it play out as Ostara nears and life is planning itself out for the year.

The next common Cycle is the week. Wednesday through Friday I work at The Theatre and have Middle School rehearsals of some sort or another. Saturday and Sunday are at The Theatre. Sunday evening, after work, I begin to wind down. I work on the blog. I start to regroup from my week and plan the next. Monday is my day – grocery shopping, shower [lately], getting little tasks done. Of course, there is Middle School rehearsal before the day is done. By Tuesday, I should be up and running, ready to return to the world full force, including more rehearsal.

Recently I have detected another Cycle. It is a Cycle of Chakras or consciousness. Very often I find myself at the extremes, caught in the Crown or in the Root. These are both very enlightening and inspiring. But, they are also very dangerous places to get lost. My Third Eye and Throat seem relatively fluid and active. They come through from time to time. My Heart is where the Void exists. I don’t generally feel my Solar Plexus. And my Navel is infected by my Sacral.

I have not discerned the patterns nor the triggers as of yet. But I must be more aware of the shifts. I only seem to become aware of them after the fact, on a Sunday when I am unwinding and releasing.

I have an addictive personality. I see this mostly in the cigarettes these days. I want to quit. I need to quit [for so many reasons.] I know I need to quit. Still, I continue smoking. I’ll let myself run out, telling myself it is the end, but inevitably I go and buy a pack.

I crave one. I buy the pack. I start to smoke the first one. I don’t really enjoy it. I wonder why I ever bought that pack. I continue to smoke the pack because I have it and it is something to do.

Repeat daily.

[I’ve determined that nicotine, in and of itself, is a most fabulous drug. I like the affect it has on the mind and body. It is interestingly numbing. It is the vessel by which it is delivered that sucks ass.]

So, I have an addictive personality and I don’t know how to combat it. Again, I see this in the cigarettes. I have tried weaning and cold turkey. I have tried vaping and the patch. I have tried lollipops and mints. Nothing has seen me through.

Yet, in the past I have shown remarkable determination and will. Whenever drinking has become a problem – a serious problem – I have changed my habits or just up and quit. In rehab I even stopped smoking for a day. It was my goal – to not have a cigarette for 24 hours. And, I didn’t.

Perhaps the mindset, the paradigm, is deeper than I have explored. What if my inability to quit is driven by the fact that my addiction reaffirms my low-self esteem. It shows me just how weak and pathetic I am. [Ah, ‘Pathetic.’ A word I have heard from my family numerous times over the years.]

(Reflections.)

According to Louise L. Hay in her Book Heal Your Body, Addictions represent running from the self; fear; not knowing how to love the self. The affirmation to combat this is:

I now discover how wonderful I am [I amaze myself lol] I choose to love and enjoy myself.

Fascinating. No?

I have a pain deep inside - an emptiness that I do not understand. I don’t think it interferes with life but it does rear its ugly head into situations from time to time. And, every so often, for just a few seconds, it will make me cry.

I hurt and I don’t know why.

I’ve learned that, despite the tales you may have heard told here and there around the square, I am a fairly docile creature. It is only when you anger me that I become dangerous…and, it takes a lot to anger me. I have a great deal of patience and understanding. But, even they can eventually wear thin.

This was explained to me by one of the first totems to ever appear along my path – The Black Panther. The Panther is a generally docile creature. He would prefer flight over fight any day. However, when cornered and threatened he will fight back. He will lunge directly for the jugular. This is how I operate. If you put me in a corner I will get out of it. I will find the one thing that will hurt the most and I will bite into it, clamping down. And, much like Craze, I will not let go until I am finished.

I know this about myself. It is why I practically beg people not to push me there. It is why I will let you know, signaling in some way, that we are getting close. Much the way a skunk will stomp its feet to warn that you are about to stink terribly. [I actually saw this up close and personally once. I managed to avoid the spraying. AMEN.]

Perhaps a little more emphasis on Turn the Other Cheek is in order.

And, lastly, but never the least of anything – That Which Cannot Be Written.

*sigh*

This drags on and so it shall as long as I have commitments. And, those commitments go deeper every day. I find that as much as I have tried to lay down and die and let it all be forgotten, the cycle begins again. I am being drawn in no different than before. I have lost my escape and so I must come face to face with it every day. Eyes down, mouth shut. Promises made but never spoken. Yet, more and more lately, I can’t keep my eyes down. More and more each day I am gazing, getting lost all over again. Just the sight softens me so very much. I have never in my life felt anything both so potent and pure at the same time. But, it does not matter for it cannot be. I must let it live and exist, but I cannot feed it. It’s not the facing it every day that slays me and leaves me helpless and confused. It is the constant little reminders that it is not over but has only just begun. The plan is bigger than me.

So, without hesitation…

For now and for always, from here in Geistopia this is your beloved Rev

Walt: And Walt!

And, Walt, wishing you Peace, Love, Light…

Walt:…and Freakishness, baby!

Please feel free to leave comments, questions, and concerns. I don’t know you are there if you don’t say, “Hi.” Also, you’re experience of WTML is just as important as mine. So, let me know what you think. Secondly, if you would like to connect, or find out more about me, you can find WTML on Facebook @TheNewWTML or myself at @rev.mgeist.