The Bloody Doors Off

No, not a typo. This was an improv team I was once on.

I’ve decided I’d like to get back into improv.

I went to Don Berns’ funeral yesterday. So much laughter, so many tears. A truly wonderful send off to a man who lived with passion. And it hit me hard this past week, examining my life in comparison and contrast, that I haven’t been living with passion. That, for me, means performing and writing, seeing friends more, having evenings to do what the hell I want.

Which means my current contract is in direct conflict with what I want, with what I need. I want to make an impact, and not just a footprint.

So now comes the hard part: deciding how I’m going to effect this change in my life. I need the work to pay the bills and keep a roof over my head. But I need to reconnect with what makes me happy. I think that’s also why I’ve been unhappy the past while, my subconscious knew but didn’t articulate until now what was wrong.

I could use some advice. I could use a hand. I might need divine intervention.