BootsnAll Travel Network



Hanging out with stars continued

Now I’m sitting in class, slightly dazed and disoriented from the shock of travel between identities and localities, while one fifth of my students pores over their final exam which I will soon need to grade. My route home from Hartford/Springfield to Baltimore, to Birmingham, and finally to Houston took six hours, time enough for me to re-read Nawal El-Saadawi’s powerful but deeply depressing novel, Woman at Point Zero, which added to my sense of disorientation (why did I take that novel?). The long series of flights gave me time to write some notes to myself, trying to integrate (1) the workshop and my odd sense of mingled hero-worship of the stars and detachment from the whole event; (2) the feelings that arose from being at Kripalu again, the overwhelming power of familiar smells of the place and the woods surrounding it; (3) deep talks with old friends who know me well and whose lives continue to unfold in surprising and adventurous ways; and (4) the relevance of all of that to my on-going quest.

Jane Alexander and Ellen Burstyn are about a decade older than I; both are models of how to age beautifully with grace. I couldn’t help wondering if they’ve had facelifts or if they’re just made of superior DNA to the likes of me with my neck wattle and jowls. Maybe some people are just born to be beautiful. My friend Tai has this on her refrigerator: “Beautiful young women are works of nature. Beautiful old women are works of art.” Ellen Burstyn and Jane Alexander are both. They’re movie stars whose films I have loved (Jane Alexander will always be Eleanor Roosevelt to me); both have been about as successful as anybody can ever be. They’ve earned Oscars; they’ve spent most of their lives working on stage and in film; they’re mothers of functional adult children; they’ve had passionate loves, passionate political and spiritual commitments, and have done passionate work; they play with the big kids–no–they are the big kids; they’ve even lived long enough to write their memoirs.

But there they were, eating in the same dining room as I, spreading out their yoga mats by mine and doing yoga with the same grunts and sighs as I, avoiding eye-contact as we passed in the hall. I tried not to gawk, but I confess I kept having to pinch myself. The night we watched Ferry Tales and Testament, Jane Alexander sat two seats away from me. I could feel her breath when she laughed at Ferry Tales, and I heard her sob during Testament, just as I did. Some little kid in me was dazzled by her beauty and celebrity; as an actress I admire her work. But as an old woman who has also had a long and passionate life, I felt the truth that we are not, after all, so different. Only our circumstances–the details in that veil of maya–are different. I didn’t buy her book, didn’t ask for an autograph, didn’t introduce myself. In fact, I hardly spoke to anyone during the whole event. The only woman I had a conversation with was Devyani Saltzman–I needed to talk to her and cheer her for having the courage to reconnect with her mother after years of estrangement. Otherwise, I was oddly silent, detached, unable or unwilling to connect. Most of the people there were promoting themselves and their projects. That is, of course, what conferences are for. Networking. Self-promotion is the only promotion there is, really, and I totally support it. I want these young women to MAKE IT. But I was having something like an out-of-body experience: absolutely not interested in making myself known, unwilling to talk about my life or my identity or what I have or have not accomplished. I felt none of that mattered. I had already hauled up the anchors of identity and sailed away. But not so far away that I wasn’t star-struck. That wonderful irony.

My students are handing in their papers. I must start grading. There is more to say about all this. Later.



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-53 responses to “Hanging out with stars continued”

  1. Steve Raymond says:

    The reason that I am writing, is that in my perfect world, there would have been an enthusiastic and supportive COMMENT/REPLY to this well-written and insightful post.
    “Inspirational!”…
    Since none other of our fellow path-walkers have yet responded, it seems that the task most appropriately rests with me, this morning. A pleasant undertaking . . .
    What was it that I resonated to MOST? …
    Well, the narrative of your inner feelings during the time that you were physically within the near-vicinity of the Ms`s. Burstyn and Alexander. So familiar to me ! . . .
    Thinking privately that you were every bit as-worthy of “lauding” (yes, that’s cosmetic surgery you were noticing). Measuring your human progress against a ‘known’ norm.
    Liking the person that you have sculpted- yourself-into-being [enough-so, that you felt comfortable as primarily an OBSERVER] . . .
    ” Most of the people there were promoting themselves and their projects. ” . . .
    Yep.
    ” Oddly silent, detached, unable or unwilling to [Peacock-display]/connect … ”
    Yep.
    ” … Only woman … conversation … Devyani Saltzman … I NEEDED TO TALK TO HER AND CHEER HER … ” Wonderful;
    that was “the pearl” … one-person to one-person … passing-along your enthusiasm and encouragement … receiving the-same by your doing-so.
    What I noticed is that you framed it thusly: ” I NEEDED TO ” . . .
    That, I could relate to [majorly].
    Being aware of the moment that it was important for you to act; for you to ‘contribute’…
    Being ‘beckoned’ into a situation . . . led by a hunger to learn, and a practiced adherence to a[n intentional] moral ‘code’, borne of a lifetime of human interactions.
    My prayer for you is that you find yourself in more-and-more situations where you feel compelled to ‘participate’/’contribute’ . . .
    ( I suppose that that is ‘The Quest’ . . . ; )
    The world is a better place for having you have been here ( do forgive the faulty English, ‘kay? ).
    I’ll be reading. Steve

  2. admin says:

    That narrative of my inner feelings while being close to celebrities is familiar to you? Yeah? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You have a wonderful talent for putting a generous spin on what I consider to be my idiosyncratic, neurotic responses to the world. You’re a great friend, Steve. I’d like to become the woman you see in me.
    Kendall

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