Sliding into a slough of so what, I’m zapped by a bolt of electrified enthusiasm
Redefining new.
Neophilia has me in its grips.
BTW did you know that neophobia (fear of new) is older than neophilia (love of new) … the word that is, if not the actual feeling? Were the early cave ladies neophiliacs because anything new was a cause for celebration in their internet-of-little world … or were they neophobiacs because anything new was scary and possibly apple-cart-upsetting.
… drifting off into contemplating what a neolithic apple cart might have looked like …
Anyway, why, pray tell, don’t we hear more about the cave ladies? Who says all those hand prints were male and not the prints of bored cave wives looking for a creative outlet? We have to stop looking at the world through only half our eyes.
Back to me. I’ve been here in this hall of words and stories almost two years, 267 published posts to be exact, paying my dues with navel reflections and stories. Now, I’m getting a bit antsy, ready for some new material. I’m also hitting my 2-year hazard zone … for all of this century, I’ve moved almost precisely every two years. The middle of this month marks that date, yet I haven’t called U-Haul nor started drooling over maps. My cellular structure may be confused, jonesing for something new.
But, I donwanna move. It was challenge enough to get back to Santa Barbara. (Just try buying or renting in a town where cracker boxes start at 1.5 million. Seriously, a friend just showed me an ad for a 3/4 mil mobile home (lot rent not included.)
But, I digress. I don’t want to move; plus I need new and retail therapy doesn’t work.
In this frame of mind, Saturday night I went to Broadway, here in Santa Barbara at our creativity-infused Lobero Theatre (California’s oldest, continually operating theater), to see Chicago channeled by high school students … talented, brilliant, hopped-up on youth dancers and singers performing to a wildly enthusiastic audience of proud peers, parents, and Broadway fans.
After a well-deserved long standing ovation and a tear-inducing encore, a beaming woman, colorfully bedecked in a flowing dress with a floppy hat framing her shining face, took the stage and poured enthusiasm and love over her also teary students … Adderley School students.
It broke me open. I wanted to know more.
Janet Adderley, the woman in the floppy hat, started The Adderley School for the Performing Arts in 1993, “using songs and scenes from popular Broadway shows and movie musicals, to instill confidence and joy in every student, helping them discover and develop their unique talents and realize their potential on stage and in life!”
Here’s the Adderley 30th Anniversary video … it’s 12 minutes of adrenaline and I hope you give yourself the gift of watching it. Click image or link below.
My favorite part of the video is when Janet says, “If we think they can fly, they can fly.”
The lesson: New is everywhere … what you’re (I’m) really looking for is enthusiasm.
When a friend invited me to attend the show, I had never heard of Adderley, the school or the person, The show was good, really good, however the magic, the fairy dust as Janet Adderley calls it, was enthusiasm. The kids radiated enthusiasm, the audience fed it right back to them.
The energy bounced off the walls and claimed every bit of me that had felt bored, screaming … “Look around, new is here, new is everywhere; you just have to look with enthusiasm for whatever sparks your own enthusiasm.”
Enthusiasm … the god force within us … when we set it free into the world, it is contagious, and might possibly be the cure-all that changes everything.
It occurs to me that, at my age, perhaps at any age, anything less than an enthusiastic “Yes!” is a “no.” I no longer have time to focus on ho hum ideas, projects, places, or people … I want … need … to be enthusiastic about life … my life … and all the life around me.
Maybe my new word is “enthusiophilia” … and here I am, right back to writing about me and my own life. Maybe there is no new material … just turning over the same plowed ground, noticing more enthusiastically what shows up.
*** Unexpected connection: Kristi Keller in her Substack post: Don't Get Comfy. Life Always Has A Spectacular Plot Twist talks about writing yourself somewhere you dream of being. The writer who prompted Kristi’s post described herself as “A free spirit looking to write her way back to the ocean.”
Curiosity sparked, Kristi writes: “Clearly she’s been in a love affair with the ocean at some point in her life. I wanted to know what took her there in the first place, what dragged her away, and how she’ll find her way back.”
Find her way back. Yes. And, that may be a two-part journey. Writing (or any other method of connecting with our inner selves) to understand where we’re trying to go … and … recognizing, celebrating, and fully embracing being there once we arrive.
Relaxing and exhaling: Home.
Meanwhile … here is a moment of peaceful pond turtle yoga … click here or image for a 37 second lesson from a master. I would love to hear what lesson she brings you.
Do it for yourself is something my grandchild Sam has told me a few times, Sam likes to seed me do stuff that make me happy, we all need to be happy and sometimes little things can make a difference to how we feel.
Joyce, I LOVE your prompt that when I'm looking for something new I am actually yearning for enthusiasm. Absolutely yes to this, thank you. I've never framed it that way in my mind until now. I know when I'm looking outward for something new it's to scratch an internal itch that will make me feel different and you nailed it with this post!