As the years rolled by, I started to see the error of my strategy. (Not to mention that the years rolled by and I’d barely been north of Burbank). Operating in a state of total availability is nice in theory, but it comes at a heavy price, and ultimately does more harm than good.

The human mind and body require rest in order to perform. We have a basic physical need for down time, and a basic mental need for a change of scenery. Failure to attend to these things means burn-out, which means you’ll be playing at half-speed, or worse, just crash altogether.

There’s a sinister feeling amongst actors that we’re always at the industry’s beck and call. It can feel undignified at best, humiliating at worst. Moreover, by relinquishing too much, we lose the very elements that make us appealing in the first place, those attractive qualities of strength, courage and the desire to make our world and lives something extraordinary.

So take breaks as needed. Go away from time to time. The industry will still be around when you get back.

I’m told this has to do with the brain “re-wiring.”  That is, that the brain is being asked to do things it’s not accustomed to and needs to put the threads together differently.  This, evidently, leads to the bubbly sensation.  And as I reflect back on that period it was also the beginning of a creative, artistic and personal growth spurt.  A lot happened in the coming years, I blossomed and grew, and it’s very likely that I was suddenly thinking differently.

Alas, though, somewhere along the way, I got dull, and there was neither hunger nor fizz.  There was, in fact, little feeling at all.  I could have walked through a plate glass window and barely felt the effects.  (Judging from a couple of scars on my my thigh that I cannot account for, I may have done just that.)

But this New Year’s Eve I was suddenly ravenously hungry once again, as I remember being those many years ago.  The hunger has stayed with me for three days without pause.  Every few hours or so I’ve wanted to find the nearest Bacchanalian feast and eat a wild boar while washing it down with a gourd of wine or three.  And along with it has come the fizzing sensation.

I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m convinced it’s the cumulative effect of meditation and so many books challenging my assumptions and ways.  Either way, I’m choosing to think of this new-found hunger as a metaphor.  So… let it be indicative of the year to come.  Let the hunger continue throughout the coming months.  May my body grumble at me continuously, urging me to feed it, with foods, with thoughts, with ideas, with passion, with the knowable and the unknowable, the known and the unknown.

Let the hunger never cease, may my brain always bubble…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

I bear the scars of these experiences.  It is still difficult for me to give gifts, and celebrations feel like the stuff of science fiction.  My meditative practice has helped turn this around.  (Truth be told, my meditative practice has helped turn everything negative in my life around.  I have no idea how or why it works, but it does, and I highly recommend finding a guru or a center as soon as possible.  Consider it a gift to yourself.)

My feelings about the season have not changed all that much.  I still believe it produces great unhappiness and feelings of deep inadequacy in too many people.  And I still fail to understand how turning a page on the calendar should align with activities of the mind, but I’m only certain of my general ignorance so I won’t press the point too hard.

There is an alternative, however, and here is my proposal: Give gifts when you want to, to people you want to, because you want to.  Decide that late May is the most wonderful time of the year and spread joy then.  Donate your time or goods to charity in August.  In other words, practice compassion and generosity when you decide, not when a commercial screams at you that your happiness is available to you if only you’ll purchase something NOW.

I don’t meant to disparage those who enjoy the holidays.  I recognize the magic and power of tradition, and the art of the collective.  That we all shutter our doors at the same time has a distinct value, it’s true.  But perhaps these virtues can be extended throughout the year, when we choose, not when we’re told?

Just a thought…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.