All posts by serahrose

I just came to apologize

Raising a Humanist

I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve apologized to my child.

And not just the “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to trip over you.” kind of apology since kids are always around your ankles.  They’re kind of like cats that way, actually.

I’m talking real apologies.  The ones that really matter to the heart.

I’ve got a temper, and I lose it most with the people I love.

When I lose it with people who aren’t in my family, I usually scare the pants off of them.

I don’t know why.

I guess I’m a little intense.

My kid is used to it by now; she doesn’t yelp in surprise.  But it does dishearten her, upsets her, makes her sad.

It’s always when I am overwhelmed by something else in life and my child happens to be in the room when it happens.  She pushes a tiny button that I can normally breath through and, instead, I lose my cool.

Like tonight.

So I went and apologized.

When I entered the room in the half dark, she scurried to get herself back under the covers: to curl up in a ball of pity-me.

I sat down next to her and said “I just came to apologize.  I shouldn’t have yelled the way I did.  I’m sorry.  You were just looking for your bunny and needed help.  I’m sorry.  I love you.”  And she smiled and shrugged her shoulders and gave me a slobbery kiss.

I hope, given that she has my temper (and her dad’s too) that she will slowly learn from  my mistakes so she will be angry at fewer people and with far less intensity.

Or, at the very least, she will know how to give a heart-felt apology.

Fire Up. Delay. Breath. Respond.

Lessons, Personal, The Business of Arts, , , ,

In the past year of GAN-e-meed, of producing multiple projects, balancing spinning plates and juggling people and connections, this has been my most important lesson:

If the message via email or phone makes me angry.

Wait.

Wait.

Breath.

Write the angry response.

Wait.

Wait.

Breath.

Re-write the angry response.

Wait.

Wait.

Breath.

Re-write the angry response as a conservative “thank you for the information but here’s where you suck.”

Wait.

Wait.

Breath.

Re-write the conservative thank you as a polite “thank you for helping me see this new option or opportunity; I’ll do better next time.”

Send.

It places no one at blame.  It acknowledges that an exchange of information has occurred.  It keeps me from ruminating for the next three days.

And it’s kinder.

life without heat

Personal, , , , , ,

my forced hot hair natural gas apartment is cold.

thermostat in the kitchen says 65.

the electric heater in my room has been running without stopping for the past four hours and hasn’t managed to get itself above 62, even thought it’s set for 68.

there’s only so much insulated curtains can do in New Hampshire in December in a lousy little apartment.

that’s why i’m wearing a hat.

and a scarf.

and little old lady fingerless mits.

Damn Proud of our Silence

Directing, get out of the way of the play, Silence

Silence garnered another review today,

The play balances comedy with rumination, and outrageous episodes (magic mushrooms for dinner, anyone?) with a formality of construction that makes for solid theater.

GAN-e-meed, working with a shoestring, pulls off a production that is rich with imagination and talent.

This production successfully realizes the comic and dramatic aspects of Silence, delivering a neatly told tale right along with the lingering questions we’re supposed to take home with us.

This is all stuff I’ve believed all along.  But it feels pretty damn good to see someone else put it in print.

Read the full review at EDGE Boston.

and then reserve your seats. You only have three more chances!