Quote of the day:
"If I could be President," I would appoint women to every judicial vacancy, to every top military position, and to all the cabinet posts. Men are doing a really bad job because none of them has known the pain of childbirth or what it's like to have their boobs stared at. Old Horsetail Snake.
Reading Jane Fonda's autobiography has me thinking of many different things. She uses a metaphor from film and theater as she refers to "Acts" as different periods in her life. The "Third Act," I suppose, is the way Fonda views getting older.
I have, of late, been doing a lot of quoting others (see my post on The Atheist). However, before I return to my own writing (which I prefer to do on this blog), and my usual navel-gazing, I want to quote Jane Fonda from the preface of her book: Jane Fonda: My Life So Far. The following piece speaks to my heart, and where I think I might be approaching, slowly but surely:
I once saw a quote from dancer/choreographer Martha Graham framed and hung on a wall in a ballet studio. It said DISCIPLINE IS LIBERATION. At first that seemed like an oxymoron - isn't liberation the opposite of discipline? But discipline here doesn't mean tightness or rigidity, or punishment for wrongdoing. It means being so committed and so fully contained that you can let go; so deeply connected that you can detach; so strong that you can be gentle. Liberation takes intentionality, deliberation, courage, and - yes - discipline.
I think of the tremendous discipline it took the great ballet dancer Rudolf Nureyev to be temporarily liberated from gravity and soar through the air. I think of Greg Maddux, for many years the Atlanta Braves' outstanding pitcher; and the discipline that went into his ability to stand on the mound at the bottom of the ninth inning of the World Series and be physically and mentally relaxed.
For me, discipline, liberation means acknowledging my demons, banishing them to the corner, seeing my past and excising the old patterns and baggage to make room for stillness. It is within stillness that I will hear the small voice and know where it is leading me. Call that voice what you will, but it has always been there, although during my second act - and in much of my first, for that matter - it was too risky for me to hear it.
It is taking discipline to liberate myself into a quieter third act, discipline in order to live with the awareness of my death.
I don't want to die without knowing who I am.
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