Dreams, Touring, and Joy

This morning I woke up to a boatload of emotions. I had a dream that Donald Trump had convinced one of the judges on the Supreme court to retire, and he got to add another judge just under the crooked wire. I was so distraught when I woke up; dreams usually do that to me; they affect my waking hours for a long time. I have to struggle to convince myself it was just a dream, not reality, but after last night’s dumpster fire of a debate, I wonder how we haven’t ended up in World War III or at the very least an episode of Handmaids Tale.

My morning got worse when I picked up my phone to distract myself from my dream and the impending doom that was threatening to overtake my day and opened social media. I know what you’re going to say, “Gina, social media, especially the day after a Presidental Debate, is the worse thing to do for your mental health.” Thankfully, most of my friends on social media see things the way I do, and it wasn’t too bad, but then I opened the “memories” part, and years of touring came pouring into my phone. There were videos of cast members that are really like my children, dancing free and happily while warming up for the show that was going to be that evening. There were pictures of me in Australia, again on tour. There were so many memories of me working, and it made me long for tour. If you know me, you might be surprised by that sentence, because when I’m actually on tour, by the end, I am swearing every single minute that I will never go on the road again…ever.

I climbed out of my bed, longing for some sort of familiar, for 2017 or even 2018. I walked out onto my balcony to water my plants, and I noticed that overnight, Fall decided to show up in middle TN. The Fall is always when touring starts, and if it were a typical year, I would be climbing on a tour bus by now with my second family. Instead, I’m left feeling a little, ok maybe a lot, lost. I’m finding it hard to center myself. I’ve taught myself a few skills this year; my apartment looks a little like a grandma’s house with all my embroidery hanging on my walls. I’ve read so many books, my bookshelves look like a library. I’ve perfected working out in my bedroom and wake up some mornings with my muscles as sore as when I was working out with a trainer. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for the time to recharge myself, but I’m as recharged as I can be, and I’m ready to go back to life as usual. I am grateful that I have a husband that will hug me whenever I need it; I can’t imagine anyone who has to go through all this without another human. I’ve realized that I need human touch. I need human interaction to grow as a person. I also realized that I might not be as much as an introvert as I initially thought.

Last night’s debate made me sad, scared, and depressed. It was obvious why I’m sitting on my couch typing this blog post and not in an old theater, a smelly arena, or speeding down the highway on a tour bus. It was evident to me on so many levels that the incompetency of our current “leader” is the reason my friends and I are sitting on our couches. That said, I’m going to do everything I can to change that, and I’m going to get my mask and walk outside today. I’m going to point my face towards that sun, breathe in as deep as I can and then walk back inside and fill out my absentee ballot and hope for change. Hope for life to return to some sort of normal. I’m going to text all my friends and tell them I love them and I miss them. I’m going to call my chickens and set up a dinner and squeeze them tight. I’m going to find joy today, and I hope you do the same.