In one of my favorite books as a child, a character finds a Janus coin, a coin with two faces, one looking forward and one looking backward. It had some magical property in the story, but the image always stuck with me. Janus is the god of transitions, new beginnings, looking to the future and to the past. I love that we all do that in January (the month named after him). We look back to see our mistakes and how to learn from, as well as our successes and how we grew and what we loved. We look forward to our hopes and goals and try to be reborn in the new year. Even though we have this chance every single day, New Year's marks a special holiday where we get to slough off our old, tired skin and emerge renewed and strong.
2015 was cray-cray. Or at least it felt that way. I didn't really write at all. Most of my reflection is based on my calendar and on Facebook statuses. Thank god for those, or I would never remember anything I did.
First, I got married. It was awesome. I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend! With the fairy godmother help of all our friends and family, the day went perfectly. Even though things didn't always go according to plan, I felt like the calm in the eye of the storm. I knew that no matter what happened, everything would be fine. I wore a crown and a fairy tale dress, and Lee was handsome in a custom suit. I carried a sword down the aisle with my mommy and daddy as "All My Days" played and my Ladies in Arms had shields they made themselves. We stood under a chuppah made by our friends, We had blessings from Jewish and Catholic traditions and readings from
Gift from the Sea and
A Fault in Our Stars read by our friends. We had a community blessing where all of our friends promised to help us on our journey together. Mole gave us the rings after a spectacular entrance on a remote control car. We said our vows to each other and cried and danced. My brother then bound us together as husband and wife and before we took the trip back down the aisle, we paused for a moment, as "If Just One Person" from the Muppets played and we looked at all of our friends and family who had come. There was so much love that day. After that we partied, and danced and sang and told funny stories and picnicked and ate pie and mac and cheese and looked at the stars. It was perfect.
People ask me if it feels different, and in a way, it doesn't. We have lived together for 7 years, so that hasn't changed. But it is different in other ways. I feel like I have a solid foundation. Before, if I did something crazy out in the world, I felt like I might fly off into the ether and never come back. Now, I know I can take risks because I will always have a solid foundation to come back to, no matter what. I am also now responsible for another human being. I can't just buy expensive shoes and then eat noodles for a month. Things must be thought through on both sides. It is a good thing. I feel like our partnership has deepened. Like we are now a binary solar system, or like we are spinning around in circles holding hands in the middle: our centrifugal force and connection keeps us balanced and keeps us going.
This was also a year of pushing myself theatrically. I started the year retreading old ground, performing in
Pirates 2 and re-finding Opal amongst a very different cast. But I got to drive my beautiful ship with people I loved.
I helped out with the Source Festival development process and did some long form improv. I absolutely loved it and ended up improv monologuing, just telling the story. Usually, improv paralyzes me, but it helped me realize it was just pretending.
This helped me so much on my next adventure:
Flying V Fights: Heroes and Monsters. I wasn't supposed to be in the cast originally but two people dropped, so they asked me. I felt rather out of place because I couldn't see what I brought to the table. But I did my method: suck it up, ask for help, drill, pretend you can. It was a really fantastic show to be a part of. I remember most specifically the times when I struggled to execute a move in my Buffy fight and Tumulty and Tory and Rob and Jon would help work it out, and then I could do it! I could handstand onto Tumulty's shoulders. I nearly died with the speed and effort required every night, but at the end of the run, I had a 6 pack. I want to get there again. And again, Flying V let me do the most extraordinary things: be Buffy, have a dream ballet with Lee, puppeteer a valiant teddy bear, participate in a mele fight and get my neck snapped. It was a great experience, to reawaken that movement part of me that was getting rusty.
After that, I did
The Bleeding Heart Show, another kind of challenge. Over the course of the evening, I had to play 4 different parts: the ideal girl-next-door, a writer who had lost her friend, a thug, and a roller derby girl. It was an exercise in the many facets of Megan. The roller derby girl was the hardest because I had to learn how to convincingly roller skate for the part, and I think I did a damn good job of it. I also had to be solid and could not fall back on fluttering anxiety. It was really really hard, but opened me up to new possibilities for movement and choices that I felt weren't open before.
I decided it was time for me to begin auditioning for musicals again, so I sent in my voice track for
Sercret Garden. I didn't get the part, but it made me realize how rusty I actually was. I auditioned for two more musicals with the help of my friend Steve who coached me and helped me prep. One, I didn't get. The other, I did. I got to be in my second favorite musical of all time,
Sweeney Todd. And let me tell you, it was frikkin hard. I cried on my second day because it is a very difficult musical to learn if you can't read music. But I did what I always do: I sucked it up, I worked hard, I drilled, I pretended I was the kind of person who could do this sort of thing. And I did it. I am ridiculously proud of the work I did in
Sweeney. I remember the day when my voice opened up again, and I could sing like I used to be able to in high school. It was glorious. The experience also redefined my idea of the theater community of DC and who they are. And it helped me define what I want from a theatrical experience, and what I will and will not compromise in the future.
I also began doing stage combat classes again. It was both fun and discouraging. I almost failed my unarmed test because we didn't act it well. I know something is holding me back fight-wise, but I don't know what it is.
I think the hardest theatrical thing for me this year was returning to monologue auditioning. I know that in the past not having a monologue in my back pocket has prevented me from auditioning from many shows. It was something I vowed to get passed this year, and through hard work and help, I did. I still hated it. It is still very very scary, and not something I want to do often. But I now know that I can.
Spiritually, this has been a remarkable year. I use "spiritually" to encompass my internal stuff. At the beginning of this year, I went off of medication that had been causing paralyzing anxiety. I didn't realize how much until I was off of it for a little while and realized this freedom was what most people felt all the time. That is not to say that my anxiety went away completely. I soaked in it for at least 7 years and it has become habit forming, a natural place for my body to go in times of stress. But I feel like I am slowly weening myself away from it. Part of it is convincing myself that it does not make me more efficient, more effective, or more important.
This was also a year that I learned I function best with a good night's sleep and real regular meals. I know this is not a huge revelation for many, but often I get too in my head and stubborn and push through when my body says no. It was severely detrimental to my work and my quality of life this past year, and I am determined to make it a priority for next year.
I noticed on my Facebook posts that this year that I took a lot more time to appreciate what I was doing. I often posted about cooking with Lee and how beautiful and calm and precious and fun it was. Apple and raisin challah, lamb chops, dancing in the kitchen, watching TV, going to the farmers market, a used book store, having coffee with my family, drinking hot toddys, taking on the phone with Caitlin about OUAT, taking walks in the crisp fall air, reading in front of a fake fire, getting massages. I like that. Not only that I began to notice the beautiful, human moments, but that I have them. I took time to appreciate. I want to do that more.
I also spent a lot of time this year revisiting old heroes. I reconnected with Buffy, Katherine Janeway, Samwise Gamgee, Alanna, Kate Beckett. The heroes from my childhood that I learned so much from. And during my rewatches, I remembered why they are the building blocks of who I am and what I can take from them into who I am now.
I also began to dream again. I am not sure if it was a combination of lack of anxiety with more sleep, but my epic dream sagas came back with a vengeance. I am starting to reconnect with my unconscious self and creating beautiful and terrifying stories in my sleep and I love it.
So the biggest takeaways from the year are:
- To do great things, I just need to suck it up, try not to think about the stakes, take things one step at a time, work hard, make time, ask for help, and pretend that I am the kind of person who can (nay, deserves to) do this sort of thing.
- I function 100% better with sleep and real food at regular intervals. That is the bare minimum to be my best self.
- I am no longer alone. I have a partner for life, with all the beautiful things and all the responsibility that entails.
- Take time to notice the moments when you are happy and write them down. They will remind you how to get back there when times are darker.
- That I can either get sucked under the wave of a difficult or scary situation, or I can ride it.
- I just need to tell the right story and everything changes. An obstacle becomes a challenge. A bad day becomes an adventure. A scared Megan becomes a brave one.
