I didn’t write a blog post earlier this week because I have the flu, and I spent most of Monday sleeping, and most of the rest of Monday having such a high fever that all I could do was sit around and think strange thoughts. I haven’t been this sick for quite some time. But I am going to do my best to write something for you today.
I’m going to tell you a story. Sometimes now when I write I hear James Altucher in my head saying “Bleed on the page.” And I see the photo of Penelope Trunk’s bruise after she had a fight with her husband. And I say to myself, I could never do that. But today I have the flu, which means I can do things I sometimes think I can’t, so this is that kind of story, only Amy-style.
I was sixteen or seventeen, in drama class. My drama teacher was big on improvisation and on giving us assignments that required improv. I wanted to be handed a script and learn my lines and figure out blocking, but that’s not the way things were done in drama most of the time.
My group was doing a skit that showed a teenage girl finding out she was pregnant in the middle of a family dinner. I was supposed to play the girl’s big sister who offered sage advice in a touching sisterly scene later on in the skit. But my classmate who was supposed to play the pregnant teen had been out sick for a long time, and eventually we had to perform the skit without her for our grade. So at the last minute, I had to step in to play the part.
Afterwards, I thought it had gone about as well as could be expected, given the lack of rehearsal time. I sat with the rest of my class in the seats facing the stage, glad it was over, until the drama teacher began really tearing into my performance.
Was I aware, she said, that I had been smiling the entire time? How horrible and awkward it had been, and how amazing my fellow group members were for somehow managing to continue on in the face of such a poor performance. And then she came right up to me, in front of the entire class, and said, “Do you always smile when you’re sad? Do you?” She was insisting on an answer I couldn’t give her, and it was all the worse because the answer was yes. And I hadn’t even known it until that very moment.
To this day, when I think of this story, my heart hurts.
I can even smile when I have the flu. Now there’s talent for you.
Sometimes conditioning runs so deep that we don’t realize what we’re doing, even when we’re working very hard to be mindful. I write in this blog about a lot of things I still struggle with. I’m still a perfectionist. I’m still sometimes a people pleaser. I tell you that your emotions are okay, but I don’t always believe that for myself. When something happens that is upsetting for me, my first instinct is to pretend everything is okay.
Once upon a time, it was extremely important that I be good at acting in a very specific way. One that didn’t go over well in drama class.
That story is over now. But I still smile sometimes when I’m sad.
The Practical Free Spirit 
Wow, that sounds like a terrible moment. But at least it made for a compelling blog post…yes, I have this same sort of double-consciousness re: my blogging persona. I feel like he always has an answer for everything–he’s charted out the best way to live life and he is making a go of things. But in real life, nothing is as simple as my blogging persona makes it out to be. Actually, all the changes are super incremental, and almost every issue I’ve ever had is still, to some extent, an ongoing issue.
Being a writer is good for positive thinking because whenever anything unpleasant happens, I think, “Well, at least it will be something to write about someday.” Although it’s gotten to the point where OTHER people remind of this fact, which is somehow not quite as charming as when I think it myself…
I hope you feel better!
I am a hypnotherapist and we have what we call “masking” – it is when someone is talking about a bad event or feeling, like anger or a death, and they tell us about it with a smile on their face! (I am personally aware of this, because I do it too!)
It is a way of disconnecting from what we really feel, to put on a “mask”. It is a way of showing we are uncomfortable connecting to that emotion, at least in front of others.
In order to heal a client, you must help them “remove the mask” and connect to the uncomfortable memory and/or emotion. It is through truly feeling that we can begin truly healing. 🙂
I love your honesty and your wonderful blogs. Take care of yourself!
Thanks for commenting, Phylicia, and sharing such fascinating information. Yes, back when I was 16 I was solidly focused on surviving; hadn’t had any time for healing yet!
I catch myself at this sometimes now, and when I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s usually a pretty weird feeling.
Thank you for this. My aunt passed away early this morning and I was trying so hard to keep smiling… to be strong and do what needed to be done. I even went to work, trying to be responsible… and then I read this and it hit me right in the gut. And I told my boss I needed to leave.
I’m learning. It’s hard to break the old patterns and maybe I will be working on it for the rest of my life… but I’m working on it.
Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about your aunt. And I’m so glad you decided to leave work and take care of yourself today.
As for working on it…you and me both. The improvement often seems slow, but it’s there all the same.
On behalf of all drama teachers out there, so sorry about the incident in class…as a drama expert she should have realized why you were in the moment,smiling….so much work is taught using the mask, the neutral face, comedy and tragedy….my students often performed using white masks (neutral) projecting meaning only through physical gestures and mannerisms…set to music etc…