“Just what message are you trying to provoke or promulgate by doing a show with drag queens, HIV and AIDS?” The question stunned me a bit when the reporter asked it yesterday during a telephone interview surrounding the opening of Jonathan Larsen’s Rock Musical RENT. My silence – really my need to take a breath before I responded – gave her the opening to ask a follow up: “Is this really the type of Theatre you think the Tracy audience wants to see?” My response flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to snatch it back. “Theatre isn’t about what the audience wants to see – sometimes theatre is what they need to see. Theatre is our history. It reminds us of times, choices, and attitudes we held that define who we are today. Yes, I’m guilty of endeavoring to provoke thought, however it’s not my intention to promulgate any particular point of view. That’s up to the audience to discern for themselves what they want to take away from their experience of seeing RENT. My job as the producer is to give them that opportunity.” I went on to tell her: “RENT is a story about the truth about Love. Love isn’t perfect. Love is and isn’t about the fireworks. Love and RENT is about knowing when to fight and knowing when to surrender with dignity. RENT is about the metaphorical “Seasons of Love”. Season being a period of time when a group of people came together to witness and experience the truth about love. A “season” during which, each person realizes that they are living in a significant moment in time that will forever leave an impression on their hearts and minds. And when that story is performed before an audience – that audience will be forever changed as well. – That’s why I choose to do this show. I lived during that period of time. I had such a circle of friends – now I am the only one left to tell their story. To honor them, to give voice to how passionately they lived, to how deeply they loved and to witness the manifestations of their dreams realized on their behalf. What a gift they gave me. This is why I’m doing this show – for them. For Steven, and for Gary, Glenn, Bob, Ray, Tom, Gene, Michael, Patrick, and Duane. All my friends from a wonder season of love. - I'm doing it for them. - Jack www.atthegrand.org
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Sunday, May 9, 2010
The Gifts Of My Parents
Greetings!
This week's quote comes from A Course In Miracles" It reads:
I am here only to be truly helpful.
I am here to represent Him Who sent me.
I do not have to worry about what to say or what to do, because He Who sent me will direct me.
I am content to be wherever He wishes, knowing He goes there with me.
I will be healed as I let Him teach me to heal.
[As you read today's blog I invite you to play the song below as inspiration.]
We never know when Spirit is going to reach out and touch our soul. Sometimes it's with the loving words of a friend or teacher. Other times we are inspired by written words on the page. For me I'm most often surprised by Spirit's touch through music.
Yesterday as I scampered about doing Saturday errands, Luther Vandross's "Dance with my Father Again" came forth on my car stereo. I found myself pulling over and
"just listening". Why this song? Why is it touching me so now - I've heard it over a thousand times. Why today? I heard myself say allowed: "It's Mother's Day after all." Then I remembered Mother's Day is May 9th. May 9th is also my Father's Birthday.
From time to time Mother's Day falls on his birthday and when it does I become particularly thankful for the gifts both of my parents gave to me. You see I never lived with my Father. After being married to my mother for over twenty years - he'd had enough. Not enough of her or our family - but enough of not knowing who he was. I'm sure he would have left sooner, but then - surprise - I came along.
My brother, while not even 12-years-old, took up the role of surrogate father for me. He did an admirable job of it. When he was old enough to drive our car trips were to visit "our" father. I adored this man that he called our dad. He was kind, compassionate, funny and very engaging. When you were in his company he made you feel welcomed and appreciated.
I didn't understand what happened between my Mother and Father. As a little boy I would stand outside her bedroom door and hear her sobbing for him. I couldn't reconcile how that nice guy, that I had met on these trips with my brother, could have hurt her so badly. My brother went away to college and my Father moved to Florida. For the most part my Father was not present in my life. Life went on - but from time to time I would dream of him - those early days and him holding me as we'd dance around in his living room. I didn't know why he didn't love her anymore, but I was certain as to why she loved him.
2010 is the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination as a Religious Science Minister. During that time the most inspirational moment came when I had the the opportunity to speak at my Father's funeral. I didn't know what to say. I prayed, wrote, and pondered. I kept asking Spirit to guide me. I was inspired to use the title "The Gifts of My Father".
What gifts? The gifts from a man that I probably never saw more than 20 times in my entire life? Then today's quote was the quote I had read the morning of his funeral. "I do not have to worry about what to say or what to do, because He Who sent me will direct me."
As I took the podium and looked out to the friends and family before me - it was all revealed. They were the gifts of my Father. Without my father I would have never known the love of my brother; my brother's family and their families. Without the gift of life given to me by my father, I would not have known the love of my mother. I would have never have known the love of my friends, and those that I've shared this incredible spiritual journey with. My God, but the gifts of my father were magnicient. Ah to dance with this man once again.
The gifts my parents are tremendous. From my Father I have my sense of humor, my ability to be engaging, compassionate and passionate. From my Mother I have received the gifts of loving, self respect, loyalty, and a willingness to go for it. So today, this day of May 9th that honors each of them; I trust that since they've both made their transition, that now their spirits have reconciled and she has had the opportunity to dance with my Father once again.
Today I give thanks for a wonderfully magnificent life. I know that I was sent by Him, but I'm forever thankful that it was "through them" that I came to be.
Thank you Mother and Dad. - Rev. Jack
This week's quote comes from A Course In Miracles" It reads:
I am here only to be truly helpful.
I am here to represent Him Who sent me.
I do not have to worry about what to say or what to do, because He Who sent me will direct me.
I am content to be wherever He wishes, knowing He goes there with me.
I will be healed as I let Him teach me to heal.
[As you read today's blog I invite you to play the song below as inspiration.]
We never know when Spirit is going to reach out and touch our soul. Sometimes it's with the loving words of a friend or teacher. Other times we are inspired by written words on the page. For me I'm most often surprised by Spirit's touch through music.
Yesterday as I scampered about doing Saturday errands, Luther Vandross's "Dance with my Father Again" came forth on my car stereo. I found myself pulling over and
"just listening". Why this song? Why is it touching me so now - I've heard it over a thousand times. Why today? I heard myself say allowed: "It's Mother's Day after all." Then I remembered Mother's Day is May 9th. May 9th is also my Father's Birthday.
From time to time Mother's Day falls on his birthday and when it does I become particularly thankful for the gifts both of my parents gave to me. You see I never lived with my Father. After being married to my mother for over twenty years - he'd had enough. Not enough of her or our family - but enough of not knowing who he was. I'm sure he would have left sooner, but then - surprise - I came along.
My brother, while not even 12-years-old, took up the role of surrogate father for me. He did an admirable job of it. When he was old enough to drive our car trips were to visit "our" father. I adored this man that he called our dad. He was kind, compassionate, funny and very engaging. When you were in his company he made you feel welcomed and appreciated.
I didn't understand what happened between my Mother and Father. As a little boy I would stand outside her bedroom door and hear her sobbing for him. I couldn't reconcile how that nice guy, that I had met on these trips with my brother, could have hurt her so badly. My brother went away to college and my Father moved to Florida. For the most part my Father was not present in my life. Life went on - but from time to time I would dream of him - those early days and him holding me as we'd dance around in his living room. I didn't know why he didn't love her anymore, but I was certain as to why she loved him.
2010 is the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination as a Religious Science Minister. During that time the most inspirational moment came when I had the the opportunity to speak at my Father's funeral. I didn't know what to say. I prayed, wrote, and pondered. I kept asking Spirit to guide me. I was inspired to use the title "The Gifts of My Father".
What gifts? The gifts from a man that I probably never saw more than 20 times in my entire life? Then today's quote was the quote I had read the morning of his funeral. "I do not have to worry about what to say or what to do, because He Who sent me will direct me."
As I took the podium and looked out to the friends and family before me - it was all revealed. They were the gifts of my Father. Without my father I would have never known the love of my brother; my brother's family and their families. Without the gift of life given to me by my father, I would not have known the love of my mother. I would have never have known the love of my friends, and those that I've shared this incredible spiritual journey with. My God, but the gifts of my father were magnicient. Ah to dance with this man once again.
The gifts my parents are tremendous. From my Father I have my sense of humor, my ability to be engaging, compassionate and passionate. From my Mother I have received the gifts of loving, self respect, loyalty, and a willingness to go for it. So today, this day of May 9th that honors each of them; I trust that since they've both made their transition, that now their spirits have reconciled and she has had the opportunity to dance with my Father once again.
Today I give thanks for a wonderfully magnificent life. I know that I was sent by Him, but I'm forever thankful that it was "through them" that I came to be.
Thank you Mother and Dad. - Rev. Jack
Sunday, July 12, 2009
I’ve been reading (using) a daily journal called “Spirit is Calling” by Edward Viljoen – better said; I began the year using it.
Today, ensconced in the surroundings of being back in the comfort of my den, I reached for it once more.As I opened to read the lesson of the day, I noticed that I had last opened the book on April 7th. I paused and asked myself – “What happened on April 8th? Why did I stop?”
The answer: It was on April 8th that I decided it was time for me to return to my house – to my home. In February of 2008, I needed to step away from the home that I thought was to be “our” home. Grieving twelve years of lost expectations had taken its toll and I needed to step away. Now, that I had decided it was time for me to make the house “my home”, I still had fears. I feared the walls would still seep with memories of “us”.
Regardless of my fears, I took the risk. When I opened the door, what I found was shocking. Warped hardwood floors, dirty walls, and backyard that had been ignored for 14 months. Needless to say, not one old memory remained. I could not recognize this house, as anything I would have once called my home. In truth, this disaster was actually a blessing.
I found myself surrounded by friends that jumped in and within 90-days transformed what looked like an abandon rental, into a house that I’m willing to proclaim as “my” home. So today I am so very grateful that the universe sent me the right people, at the right time, to walk with me through this transition.
Thank you Jeff, Deb, Eric and Matthew, the tiling, cutting, drilling, lifting, touting, hanging and moving were effortless because of your willing to help out. And a very special thank you to Diane, who sanded, buffed and painted each and every inch of wall, ceiling, and cabinetry.
I have often said that when the challenge seems too much – just move one rock. 90 days ago, I didn’t know where to begin – but they did. They taught me that it didn’t matter which rock was moved first, just start shoveling and don’t look back.
It’s good to be home.
Today, ensconced in the surroundings of being back in the comfort of my den, I reached for it once more.As I opened to read the lesson of the day, I noticed that I had last opened the book on April 7th. I paused and asked myself – “What happened on April 8th? Why did I stop?”
The answer: It was on April 8th that I decided it was time for me to return to my house – to my home. In February of 2008, I needed to step away from the home that I thought was to be “our” home. Grieving twelve years of lost expectations had taken its toll and I needed to step away. Now, that I had decided it was time for me to make the house “my home”, I still had fears. I feared the walls would still seep with memories of “us”.
Regardless of my fears, I took the risk. When I opened the door, what I found was shocking. Warped hardwood floors, dirty walls, and backyard that had been ignored for 14 months. Needless to say, not one old memory remained. I could not recognize this house, as anything I would have once called my home. In truth, this disaster was actually a blessing.
I found myself surrounded by friends that jumped in and within 90-days transformed what looked like an abandon rental, into a house that I’m willing to proclaim as “my” home. So today I am so very grateful that the universe sent me the right people, at the right time, to walk with me through this transition.
Thank you Jeff, Deb, Eric and Matthew, the tiling, cutting, drilling, lifting, touting, hanging and moving were effortless because of your willing to help out. And a very special thank you to Diane, who sanded, buffed and painted each and every inch of wall, ceiling, and cabinetry.
I have often said that when the challenge seems too much – just move one rock. 90 days ago, I didn’t know where to begin – but they did. They taught me that it didn’t matter which rock was moved first, just start shoveling and don’t look back.
It’s good to be home.
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