DEEPLY AWAKE – DON'T TELL ANYBODY
Mike Birbiglia bases his masterpiece “Sllepwalk With Me” roughly on the structure contained in those three little words. A raison d'etre, a clarion call to a distant shore, “Don't tell anybody,” has been something we have all been inculcated to, a culture of shame, a culture of closed doors and separation and want, emotional neglect, letting dreams die on the vine, letting hopes shrink, all under the hot sun of “Don't tell anybody.”
That's why I like doing this blog. I am learning that with every unveiling I just feel better. Yes, I feel wobbly, and no one will ever know just how much I need those posted replies. They have kept me going.
Imagine going into a floor-to-ceiling mirrored changing room, and in there is the one outfit that you most want to wear, the one ball gown or tux or dashiki which just LOOKS like how you want to look. It's not like anything anyone has ever seen, and even though you know you will be over-dressed, you cannot stop yourself, you have to slip it on.
It fits like a glove, and your body, well, it's weird to tell you this, but your whole body, and your face, well, they just LOOK different. YOU look different.
Aw, this is just too good to pass up. You have to burst out of that dressing room and show everybody. See the sparkles? Observe the fine hand stitching, feel the rightness of the cloth.
And there you stand, in your finery, the one outfit which most closely resembles what you think you really should look like. What kind of reception do you get? Are there cheers? Are there cat calls? Are there groans and is there eye rolling? Or do you have a couple of fans who whoop, laugh and cry out, “You have never looked better in your life!”?
That's what those comments are to me.
