Now that my beloved prim and proper mama is deceased, I feel free to share my spicy example of a miracle that unfolded when I chose to express gratitude rather than wallow in self-pity. For those seeking romance, true love, or escapist entertainment, this is for you. I do want to warn you, that there is some advice lurking here.
True Story:
I was merely 33 years-old, between marriages, and in Rome, Italy, sharing a slender hotel room with a patio and a view so enchanting that our hearts leapt. We were just two small-town girls, after all. My roommate was the talented and gorgeous Julie Miller, who not only looked like Marilyn Monroe, but I was to direct her in a one-person show called “Marilyn in Her Own Words,” once we returned to Los Angeles.
Yup, six weeks in Rome, Italy, getting paid to be Julie’s “assistant” as she appeared as the Vedette - the Star Chanteuse for a weekly Italian variety show. The opportunity arose just as we were about to start our rehearsals, so it amazingly, it “made sense” for the “Marilyn…” producers for me to accompany Julie to OMG ROME to continue our work on the play. We did, in “some form or fashion,” as my mama used to say.
Not only was I between marriages, but between boyfriends. So was my Julie.
Two zesty gals, set loose in magnificent, heart-quickening, sexy, sexy Rome.
To my great benefit, my pal Julie was so gorgeous that on our walks, old men would send their grandsons to pinch her butt. Small cars literally drove up onto the sidewalk in front of us. Wild-eyed Romans begged for her love. Julie was always sweet and gracious as she was used to fevered male attention. I figured I’d capitalize on my position, riding the wake of this Goddess. Within the first 24 hours, I’d ditched my administrative slacks and briefcase for tight skirts and heels.
Cha cha cha!
Rehearsals were a hoot. We usually started late and broke early for a long lunch in the ancient commissary wallpapered with yellowed headshots of actors and juggling acts of the past. Cast and crew waved their cigarettes at each other onstage as they joked and argued. I’d sit in the house with the stage director, who would speak Italian to his assistant, who thereupon translated it into French and tossed it over to me, so I could reinterpret and call out to Julie, “Move stage left six steps!” It was a wonderful job.
Before I describe the Saturday Night Miracle, I should mention that this crazy Italian TV Variety show also brought over a troupe of hot American dancers to back up Julie on her big numbers. It’s a detail that will come into play very soon.
So, it was Saturday night, and I was no longer needed to translate for Julie, as she had invested in a pocket-sized English/Italian compendium of common phrases, and was testing her accuracy with our #1 cameraman, who looked like Bradley Cooper. All week long, they’d been making love through the lens, and tonight as they say, “When in Rome…”
So, Julie’s out on the town and I have to admit, I am bereft as I get lost in the bad neighborhood of my young mind, thinking crap like, “When am I going to ever have any fun and romance? What is wrong with me? Are there any liquor stores still open?”
Luckily, I had something else to do besides whine. As a practicing Buddhist, I’d been encouraged to take any negative situation as an opportunity to chant. So, little Sheri dried her pity-party tears and chanted to express gratitude for the moment; that I would be able to chant and that I chose to chant, to pray, to change my default from victimhood, to peace and acceptance, perhaps even joy. At the end of my prayers, I wanted to be able to say, that not only am I good right here, right now, but I am dang grateful for this moment. I would release the bogus wish that I were someone else and life was different.
So, that’s what I did, despite feeling like a Loser that I had to do it.
(“Why ME?! WAH!)
I finished my prayers and was sitting out on our patio, contentedly taking in the view, when the phone rang. It was Ross, the lead dancer - an Adonis who executed a one-arm lift with a gal doing splits on his palm, without a single quiver. “What are you up to?” he yelled above the noise of some cafe.
Although my dear mama is deceased, there’s a chance my daughter may read this one day, so the very broad strokes are as follows:
I joined up with Ross and Giovanni, the elf-like Friend of the Theater People and we three dropped Ecstacy, danced, drank, and swirled our way through a series of underground dance clubs (I mean, literally located in caves). And, after Giovanni peeled off, we two wandered the pre-dawn streets of Ancient Rome and stopped for mind-expanding sex on the steps leading to the Coliseum.
I wish y’all could have seen the reaction of my fellow Buddhists after I’d returned and enthusiastically shared my experience to our prayer group. “Hey, this was not just a poison into medicine, people!” I declared, “This was poison into what the doctor ordered!” It was “Poison into perfection!!”
They were strangely inspired.
I hope you might be, too.
No matter the drama, heartache and stress of our current situations, let us pray, chant, or simply sit with the notion that we get to be here, part of it ALL. And, that we can effect change by expressing deep gratitude and really meaning it.
Here’s a page from my book, “It’s Too Late to Quit” that I animated with a video of our Lake JoSylvia in New Hampshire. Please feel free to pin..
My next example of Radical Gratitude is the story of meeting the man of my dreams. I’ll not recall it all here, but save it for the next installment.
If you are curious to know how Dan and I met through a misdialed phone call, and how expressing gratitude in a time of messy loss led to our 27 year-old happy marriage, please sign up to get the next story in your email box.
My next example of Radical Gratitude is the story of meeting the man of my dreams. I’ll not recall it all here, but save it for the next installment.
If you are curious to know how Dan and I met through a misdialed phone call, and how expressing gratitude in a time of messy loss led to our 27 year-old happy marriage, please sign up to get the next story in your email box.
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Thank you for reading, commenting and sharing, if so inclined.
I truly appreciate it, and you. Happy Thanksgiving!
In gratitude,
Sheri Leigh
