| Actors on The Stage of
Life All the world's indeed a stage, And we are merely players, Performers and portrayers, Each another's audience Outside the gilded cage. -- Rush, Limelight, circa 1981 by Marilyn Tokach Act 59: As the scene opens, a heavy-set, middle-aged man is lying helplessly in a rented hospital bed in the middle of the family room. A woman with slouched shoulders and dark, baggy circles under her eyes administers his medication, checks his oxygen tank and brings her drifting thoughts back to the room as he begins to complain about the cold. His words bring her back to the frustration of the world she now occupies with him. Sparing the energy of a fruitless argument, she wipes the moisture from her forehead as she changes the thermostat from 80ºF to 82º, wondering if he really does feel cold, or if the cold on the inside can no longer be contained. Enter David, a hard-working young man of 30, stopping by on his way home from work. His 2-month-old daughter is home with her mother awaiting his arrival, but he dutifully stops here first to offer some much needed respite to this run-down caregiver. David: "Hi mom. How is he today?" Mother: "Not good." After a ritualistic update of the day's condition, the woman retreats to the sanctuary of her bedroom for a nap, opening the window and breathes in the fresh, cool December air of Southern Arizona. David helps his father reposition himself on the bed as his father's tape begins to play again. So many things are wrong with him, his doctors are imbeciles, no one cares about him.... The irony of the statement that no one cares is lost on the younger man as he follows the role he's directed himself to play to perfection: trying to make his father comfortable, straighten up the house and fixing dinner in an effort to make things easier on Mom, saving some energy for his own family waiting patiently for his nightly performance to end. Close enough From my position in the Minnesota balcony, I'm far enough back from the drama -- close enough to hear the violins, back far enough only to imagine the looks on the actors' faces as they perform their roles day after day. I do care about the situation unfolding back home in Arizona, but from my vantage point I'm blessed to see the bigger picture. Through the opera glasses of my experience, I can see the connectedness that brought all these players together at this moment in time for this scene in their lives: the years of alcoholism, sedentary lifestyle and poor eating habits that brought my father to be bedridden at the young age of 59 -- an act which his own choices have directed. The decision of a stay-at-home mom to go back to school at the age of 41 to become a registered nurse. And my brother's choice to assume the role of the nearby son, and help out the father who was less than supportive of his youngest son growing up. The outside world -- the sick man's doctors and physical therapists -- see a belligerent patient who is difficult to treat and doesn't willingly follow any regimen they set up for him. A character perceiving himself as the victim, looking outward for someone to blame, bitter yet not realizing to turn that gaze inward and forgive. From my vantage point, and that of my siblings, perhaps, we see a man who made decisions throughout his life based on his upbringing, his societal influences and his individual experiences. Whether these choices would have been our choices is irrelevant, his part in the play is his to write. I'm also blessed to see the karmic connections and the Divine thread that runs through this play. Although, I don't have the sight to see every detail, I appreciate the action, inaction and interaction that had to occur throughout our lives to bring this play together in the perfect drama that it is. Like with all good writing there have been scenes with heroes, heroines and villains -- perceived and real. There has been drama, frustration, happiness, confusion, comedy, tragedy and suspense. The perfection Sometimes I wonder about the casting for this play. Then I take a second look and realize the perfection of it all. That's not to say I don't disagree with the Director from time to time, but it's usually then that the Director reminds me that the actors in this live performance make their part unique with each second of each day. From my seat in this Minnesota balcony, I can also see other plays unfolding around me. There is the neighbor stage, the company stage and the world stage. I have parts in all of these plays, too, and the importance of my roles in these plays is determined primarily by my choices, actions and involvement. We have a wonderful opportunity to write our parts anew everyday with each word, each thought, each action. And in our grand performance of life, we affect others, whether we are aware of it or not. My father's illness is affecting people he doesn't even know. My brother has asked for time off from work, meaning other people have to fill in for David. Undoubtedly, this will have some bearing on their families, as well. I have asked friends here to send prayers and healing his way. When my neighbor received my request for prayers, it opened up a discussion at her dinner table that evening -- first to send prayers of support to my father and family back home, but then to discuss care for their aging parents. As I stand both as a participant and observer and watch the drama unfold back home, I try to keep in mind that it's easy to be a critic in the audience, when the spotlight is not on me. Acting and re-acting So as players in this life, it's important to be aware of our fellow thespians and appreciate their humanness. And to stand not as critics of their performances, but as observers, and perhaps supporters or understudies. We are all acting and re-acting together. But more than that we are the writers of our own scripts. Our audience is everywhere. Fortunately, there is a Divine Director, willing to help us make our performances spectacular and unforgettable if we will just ask for guidance -- and follow it. Our Director lets us cast ourselves in whatever performance we choose. Romance, suspense, action, tragedy or drama -- all choices are equal, for this is our life, and each scene makes it a classic. Our Director also reminds us that all of us -- every one of us, regardless of our sets or supporting casts -- have the opportunity to bring to each day a happy ending. Marilyn Tokach is a gifted Animal Communicator, dog trainer and behaviorist, as well as a certified energy practitioner, theta healer and psychic. She teaches animal communication classes and is available for phone readings and private training lessons. She can be reached via e-mail at marilyn@pure-spirit.com or by phone at (952) 226-2622. Copyright © 2004 Marilyn Tokach |
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Jan 2004 |
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