I consider comedy as important as therapy, possibly more so.
Tonight I stopped my usual reading and being on the computer and playing with the young dog routine to watch ’30 Rock.’ Tina Fey is amazing; she is my she-ro. There is something about her character Liz Lemon that is just so nerdy and self-deprecating. Complex. I never saw the movie ‘Baby Mama’ but watched the previews countless times. I do believe that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler could read the phone book and make me laugh. Last fall’s election season really brought this pair to my attention: Tina Fey as Sarah Palin and Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton on ‘Saturday Night Live.’ I swear I’ve watched the skit of Amy doing the “Palin Rap” more than any other comedy sketch in my life.
I also adore Steve Martin. I remember first noticing him in ‘The Jerk’ years ago (OK, decades). I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. There is something about slapstick that is special — really, the goofier the better. I believe it may have something to do with the irrational. Maybe it’s a zen thing, a koan. Something about slapstick stops my mind. Oh, and I can’t forget Lily Tomlin and Whoopi Goldberg. I’ve seen them both live on stage.
Something about comedy makes life worth living. The physical act of laughing gives your mouth and throat, neck and head — don’t forget lungs — a total workout (maybe we burn some calories, too?). It has something to do with seeing another perspective, forgetting one’s little self, setting the ego aside. When we all laugh together, we become One. Never did think of comedy as cosmic before. Maybe it is God/dess’ way of making us forget about budgets and recessions and disease and war. Maybe it’s Her way to tell us to ‘lighten up.’
let there be lightening up
and let there be peace
with our laughter
Posted in 108 poems, women, famous
Tagged 30 Rock, Amy Poehler, comedy, Goddess, Lily Tomlin, Saturday Night Live, slapstick, Steve Martin, Tina Fey, Whoopi Goldberg
“I’m tired of opening that door for you . . . for nothing!” I muttered to the cat. Medusa sometimes acts as if she’d like to go into the basement but usually declines once I open that door for her (you know how haughty queen cats can get). Then I paused, reflecting on what I’d just heard myself say. I imagined God/dess saying the same thing.
Understand – I don’t usually walk around wondering what God/dess would say (WWGS). Although I am deeply spiritual, I don’t belong to any particular church, temple, or synagogue. I practiced Zen meditation for years and they are notorious for the “don’t know” mind and koans. For several years now I have been enthralled with Siddha Yoga. This practice comes from the Hindu tradition. And although I made a pilgrimage to Varanasi, India, holy town of Shiva, one can’t ‘convert’ to Hinduism. I can, however, appreciate and adopt many of its traditions. I believe we ourselves are divine but often forget it. So much for talking to Myself!
So back to this concept of doors. I have been fascinated with doors since the 70s when I read the book and saw the movie Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. I’ve even had dreams about doors. There is, of course, that old saying “When one door closes another one opens” which I’ve quoted to myself when times got rough. But this assertion I proclaimed to the cat queen was different. I imagined God/dess shaking Her head, muttering something like “How many signs do I have to give the girl before she gets it?!” The Higher Power might even complain “Do I have to drop a key in your blessed lap?!”
Such is the context for tonight’s poem:
if You give me a sign
I might remember
that I’m truly divine
Posted in 108 poems, cats, India, Siddha Yoga
Tagged cats, divine, doors, God, Goddess, Herman Hesse, India, Shiva, Siddha Yoga, Varanasi, zen