Okay so that was purely irrational, right? I mean, move back to NYC in less than thirty days? Or was the Universe, perhaps, conspiring in my favor? Because, as soon as I hung up with my BFF “IT” (the Universe) sent me a message via MySpace! There it was: an omen. An audition for a show in NEW YORK CITY with the same director I had worked with eight years ago. Yes, the same director I was working for when I met my EX and fell in love! My mind, heart and stomach flipped at the sheer possibility of returning to NYC to perform in a show that I could only anticipate would be as physically challenging and artistically rewarding as the last one. Plus, it was a chance to perform with a lot of my former cast-mates again. If there was a god, I knew this gig would be mine!
Despite my excitement, I was simultaneously terrified that this might be part of the Universe’s crazy plot to test my faith and resilience even further. I feared “It” might be deviously lurking behind my attempt at manifesting my dreams; awaiting my next-available and emotionally vulnerable moment... only to shatter my dreams. And even worse, shatter my ability to trust that I deserve happiness in my life.
With a 50/50 mix of confidence and doubt I immediately sent a headshot and resume to the casting agency and booked a flight to NYC. (I hadn’t even been invited to the audition yet. Presumptuous!) Here’s the thing: I know performers always say this but, “Never in my life have I ever wanted a gig this badly. EVER!” My spirit craved and needed it. This gig would be my oxygen mask, my flotation device, my life-saver. It felt like my only viable escape out of a desperate and emotional wreckage. After a week of relentlessly exhausting auditions, I got the call. I was safe. Yes, the Universe knew exactly what I needed. I would return to NYC in 2 weeks with a job and a place to live on the Lower East Side with 2 of my sister/friends.
I felt smug as I told my EX over the phone that I was returning to the city of my dreams... to live my dreams. It felt like “Touche Mutha F***er!” with both middle fingers in the air all gangsta-style. When he first knocked the wind out of me with the reality of divorce, I thought I might die. Divorce couldn’t be my reality. This much pain couldn’t be my reality. This much anger, hurt, confusion and sadness couldn’t be my reality. But it was my reality. And I knew that NYC would be the best place for me process those emotions. I would be close to my family and dearest friends. PLUS I’d be performing 8 shows/week... just the way life used to be. Oh, and I’d be single again too. That would take some adjusting to. But inside I felt confident that the Universe was providing me an opportunity to re-discover my true self. I was getting a do-over. In fact, the Universe was re-depositing me exactly where my EX had originally found me; in the exact same city, the exact same career, the exact same theater and virtually the same cast. It was my turn to take action and re-create the rest of the scenes in my life.
I flew back to LA to pack my clothes, important documents, photos and a few books. I left it to my EX to figure out what to do with the rest of our American Dream. None of that stuff mattered to me. I was starting over.