CHRONICle

HIGHer Calling

I was born in 1948 in Los Angeles, California. As far back as I can remember, the need to express myself was extremely strong. At age eight I staged the musical “Sound of Music” with friends from the neighborhood which satisfied that need. I made the costumes, gathered the props, designed tickets and colored programs. I even sang, danced and made refreshments. This freedom of personality, imagination and style rang all my bells.

But after the audience left, instead of support, I was reprimanded for showing off. “What’s wrong with you that you need so much attention?” I disconnected from my soulful passion on the spot. The bells didn’t stop ringing but my instincts told me that if I wanted to be loved, I’d better find something else to set my creative impulses at full tilt. Like a child playing ‘pin the tail on the donkey’, I tied on the blindfold and started stabbing in the dark.

I tried jacks, four square, piano, ice skating, horseback riding, tap, Girl Scouts, gum wrapper chains, sewing, cheerleading, camp counselor, tanning, event planning, factory work, public relations, disco hostess, personal assisting, jewelry design, music manager and teaching. However, none of these stirred a thing inside.

In the meantime I wrote a little. In school I wrote an essay that won a contest. I wrote an article promoting a band that was printed in a magazine. After living in a commune in Germany, I wrote an autobiographical book entitled Lass Los, published by Parallel Verlag, Berlin, 1979, about why I was leaving them.

These signs to continue writing were present but not strong. I wasn’t a natural at putting scattered thoughts into flowing words and I didn’t like to sit. Since nothing else easier or better crossed my path, I became a determined writer with my life’s experiences taking center stage. I wrote for decades.

At the end of each draft I’d rush to family and friends asking if I was done yet because I lost perspective. There were years when I wanted to give up completely when the doubt of ever getting it out in this lifetime grew stronger than the hope. But my will wouldn’t allow me to give up; giving up on my play would have been giving up on myself. The persistence to fulfill my higher calling paid off.

After fifty years, I finally pinned the tail on the donkey. PEACE FOR POT has been given a unanimous thumb’s up. In October 2005, I won the Writers Digest 74th Annual Writing Competition 6th place Stage Play Award from a field of 18,000 entries. My new perspective that has ensued is empowering. A full range of birthright emotions has returned and I feel freedom ring.