Michael Chekhov and Focusing

I received an interesting email yesterday from an academic, one Christelle Nassar, at the University of Lebanon in Beirut. She's writing a book on Michael Chekhov, and wants to introduce his ideas to the Arab world.

"Chekhov’s name is known in Lebanon and the Arab world, but there are no Arabic versions of his books nor serious researches on his work, therefore, I chose to write my study in Arabic in order to familiarize the Arabic speaking acting students, actors, trainers, and directors with his work. I have also chosen to work on Chekhov because he addresses the actor directly and suggests to him means of elaborating his part on his own during a mise en scène…
A part of my study will be based on Chekhov’s books “To the actor” and “On the actor technique”. And a second part of it – equally as important as the first – would be a study of the application of the Chekhov’s by people other than Chekhov himself…
Therefore, I would be much obliged, if you as a professional trainer in Chekhov’s acting method, (and using his method as an actor) would answer some questions that allow me to use your personal experience (I would appreciate having your personal CV), and that of your studio as essential references in my study.

1. How were you introduced to Mikhail Chekhov’s method in acting?
2. Have you learned the method through Chekhov himself, a trainer, Chekhov’s books…?
3. How did you become a trainer through Mikhail Chekhov’s method in actor training?
4. Are you familiar with other acting methods?
5. In your personal opinion and experience, what are the particularities of Chekhov’s method in actor training (what made you choose this method)?
6. Do you follow the exercises given by Chekhov in his books “To The Actor” and “on the acting technique” the way they are? Or, you prefer to make changes (such as adding other exercise, deleting some, combining others…)? In case you do, would you please give some description of the changes, and of the reasons behind them (I would like to know particularly why you chose to combine Chekhov’s method with Eugene Gendlin's Focusing/ Bio-spirituality, how you did it, and what were the benefits of this combination)?
7. What are the most common difficulties you encountered with the trainees?
8. Were this difficulties the same for acting students, professional actors, and for non professionals interested in theater?
9. Do you think reading Chekhov books would suffice for an experimented actor or director to teach his method?
10. Comparing with other actor training methods, why – regarding your experience – should an actor choose to be trained in Chekhov’s method?
11. Particularly, and since Chekhov was Stanislavski’s student, what do you, as an actor trainer, think the strong points of Chekhov’s method are, and where do you see the differences between both methods?
12. Chekhov addresses the actor directly, and asks him to try the exercises while reading them in order to understand his method. Based on you experience in teaching his method, do you think the person or the group of persons who want to become actors can train themselves alone by reading the book and applying the exercises?

Thank you in advance,
Christelle Nassar "

How cool is that? :-) I've spent the last couple of hours composing a response, which I've just emailed her.

Dear Christelle,

I first discovered Michael Chekhov’s ideas about 7 or 8 years ago, when I happened to see a video of Joanna Merlin leading a workshop on Psychological Gestures, and I was immediately intrigued. I googled Chekhov on the Internet and what I read on various websites (Lisa Dalton 's particularly) constituted kind of an epiphany for me. I ordered the book immediately. I read it from cover to cover in a single afternoon, and then immediately reread it. It was as if all the blocks and frustrations and difficulties I had been having as an actor were dissolving. His vision for what he called the Ideal Theatre of the future filled me with hope, and the techniques he offered the actor offered the perfect way of avoiding the mind having too much control over the creative process. I could finally stop feeling guilty that I had always secretly found so many of Stanislavski’s techniques quite tiresome, long-winded and so mechanical! (More of which later!) I subsequently attended the Michael Chekhov Studio in London (http://www.michaelchekhov.org.uk/) under the tutelage of Graham Dixon. In addition I have attended the Michael Chekhov in the 21st Century Symposium at Dartington Hall, the venue for Chekhov’s own theatre studio, in 2005. I continue to amass a growing personal library of Chekhov related books, literature CDs and DVDs.

I am as you might have guessed somewhat evangelical about Michael Chekhov's ideas and techniques!

Yet I still have no formal teaching qualification in Chekhov methodology or techniques. This is quite deliberate. Although I am fully aware that there are various certificated courses available I am not convinced Chekhov himself would have approved of a formal program that leads to an official license or piece of paper to prove I have the credibility to use his ideas. I am an artist, not an academic. Besides Mischa’s whole philosophy resists fixed and inflexible theory which might strangle growth. He believed the art of acting, although founded on spiritually eternal principles accessible to all, was also, at its best, an organic process/experience that does- and indeed should- move with the times! In contrast, the educational institution tends to rigidify and ossify ideas and ideals! Chekhov insisted that the individual actor-artist should be quite free to take whatever he/she finds useful in his book, and disregard the rest. This freedom to choose was very important to me as an actor, and the fact that Chekhov wasn't promoting yet another prescriptive, rigid theoretical framework for the art of acting- (Stanislavski!)- appealed to me too. Chekhov’s ideas made me feel so much more liberated and creatively free than all the other theoretical approaches offered by theatre practitioners I had studied- Stanislavski, Meisner, Hagen, Strasberg etc.

In the last few years I have shared many of Michael Chekhov’s ideas with a number of theatre companies in Scotland, incorporating them into the rehearsal process of my productions of Timon of Athens, Awake and Sing!, A Hard Heart, The Crucible for the Ramshorn Theatre in Glasgow- as well as Razed Curtain Theatre Co’s improv troupe and their production of Anna Karenina last year, Macbeth for the Shakespeare Schools Festival UK to name a few. I am an acting coach for individual actors too, and I am a regular workshop leader on Chekhov for The Actors’ Bothy at the Glasgow's Centre for Contemporary Arts (http://www.theactorsbothy.com/)- a weekly class offered to professional actors. In addition I have offered introductory weekend sessions in Chekhov’s techniques through the University of Strathclyde. The techniques seem to come as a revelation to many Scottish actors and it astonishes me that he is not more widely used or regarded.

What attracted me to Chekhov in the first place? Well, lots of things! First of all, his methods are not cerebral, always psycho-physical. They get the actor ‘out of his/her head’, never a good place for an actor to be! Also it forged a unique amalgam between what we now recognise as ‘Process work’ and an in-corporated, embodied, practical mysticism- but from an Actor's perspective. I had been interested in all these areas for a number of years but Michael Chekhov was for me the final piece in jigsaw that completed the picture of my own hitherto blurred sense of purpose and direction as a theatre artist.

I had struggled to find a philosophy that fully honoured the spiritual component within my creative life as an actor until I came across Michael Chekhov’s book. The concepts of Higher Ego, Radiation, Psychological Gesture, Inner Gesture, Feelings of the Whole, of Ease and Beauty, the Imaginary Body and what he refers to as 'the Objective Reality of the Imagination' etc were all drawn together into an articulate and coherent approach that made absolute sense of my own experience of my journey as an artist. Each element provided an access point to (- for want of a better phrase-) ‘Divine Inspiration’. Chekhov is never reticent or embarrassed about commending the deep, unconscious spiritual forces which underpin, inspire- and even compel- the actor’s ‘desire for transformation’. Of course, in the modern British theatre culture any such reference to spirituality in connection with the actor’s art is usually derided, even ridiculed as inherently pretentious or “luvvie” by those inside (and outside!) the profession. The fact that Chekhov was willing to be courageously unfashionable and to actively embrace the spiritual forces and religious origins of the art of acting deeply impressed me. In my view, he offers a radical and visionary dismantling of all the prejudices that seemed to be holding theatre and the art of the actor back from evolving to the next stage of its evolution. Here was the real possibility of what Peter Brook terms the Holy Theatre. Chekhov continues to provide us with a highly practical and at the same time deeply spiritual approach to the work.

Now, Gendlin’s Focusing, and Bio-spirituality, have a great deal in common with Chekhov’s ideas. They are all concerned with discerning and embodying images from the ‘edge of awareness’; the act of defining, refining and redefining of felt shifts (or “grace unfolding”) that can be then be worked with. These felt shifts- the removal of the actor's creative and psychological blocks- are gifts from the Higher Self, from the Higher Source and they are the tools for inner metamorphosis and eventually outer transformation- whether that be in the therapeutic or the artistic context.

The Psychological Gesture is the physical equivalent of Gendlin’s “Getting a Handle”. Chekhov’s concepts of Active Waiting and the Creative Gaze are also very similar if not identical to clearing a space, where one patiently and gently asks, “What is there?” Both processes allow us to disengage from the thought stream and connect with the present moment. They both ask us “How does it feel in my body to connect with these thoughts and feelings?” They open us to the body’s wisdom. I am convinced that Chekhov would completely agree with Gendlin when he says:

“Your physically felt body is …part of a gigantic system of here and other places, now and other times, you and other people - in fact, the whole universe. This sense of being bodily alive in a vast system is the body as it is felt from inside”

In Dr Edwin McMahon and Dr Peter Campbell.’s “Bio-Spirituality – Focusing As A Way To Grow” they say:

“There are two critical issues in spiritual development…The first is to discover a holistic approach for letting go of the mind’s omnipotent control as a prelude to allowing some broader wisdom within the entire human organism to speak. The second is to allow the unique next step that is “me” to emerge as an integral, harmonious expression of some Larger Process”.

This is the same ‘me’ that Chekhov would call the Higher Ego.

Chekhov says: ”The usual ego is not what stirs our imagination. To turn our consciousness upon it, to see the concreteness of its specific powers and qualities, is a means of strengthening our connection with it.”

Whenever I start a theatre rehearsal I adapt an exercise taught by Graham Dixon at the Michael Chekhov studio where he has the actors standing at the edge of the acting workshop space and step over an imaginary line that runs a metre or so inside the circumference of the room beyond which is the space which the higher Selves are to do the work ahead. The letting go of the everyday self is in my adapted version done in the same way as listing all the preoccupations of the everyday self that is done in the second step of focusing. I keep asking “And what else” whilst the participants silently list in their heads their respective worries and concerns which might stand in the way of doing the work. I ask them to wait at least 2mins before let them all go and then they cross over the imaginary line. Having done this shedding of everyday concerns and then decided to dress in their higher selves the ensemble meet in the centre of the room where I may ask indic=vidi=uals to devlop psychological gestures, a sense of how different physical centres manifest the archetypal eb=nergies of their characters.

Chekhov allows us to believe that we do not become greater actors by striving to be more than we are, but by surrendering to our talent, as if it were a gift of grace which we already possessed but simply lay hidden deep within if only we can get out of the way of our own lower egos. This is why, for me, his most profound teaching is really to do with his techniques for uncovering and honouring our imaginations as a reality because he suggests we “leave our personal things behind us” and enter into the mystical realm of the soul, or the Higher Ego.

It may very well be due to my own limitations as a teacher but, in my own experience teenagers benefit least from this way of working. Their egos are still making a massive claim on their attention and it is difficult for them to stay in a place of not quite knowing. They can be extremely reluctant to risk making fools of themselves, and prefer to demonstrate they 'already know the answers'! After 15 years of teaching this age group it is my view that too much uncertainty and ambivalence are anathema for the vast majority of 13-18 year olds- professional and non-professional, experienced and inexperienced. Experienced adult actors benefit most from Chekhov’s ideas, those who have maybe studied and worked with Stanislavski’s principles and then feel the need to go deeper. Preferably, the actors have a spiritual connection to their work (although they don’t have to believe in God!), and have learned to appreciate the value of ‘active waiting’ and meditation as part of their artistic process. I find that Focusing can help them understand the worth of this dimension to their work, but only if they are prepared to be open-minded! For those that are, it can open them up to a deep and untapped inner reservoir of imagination and extraordinarily inspired choices.

There is an entire industry of workshops and courses that aim to give actors a practical experience of Chekhov’s techniques. However if the actor does the exercise in the books on his/her own as Chekhov himself recommends I can see no reason why they cannot assimilate and learn just as much, if not more- and certainly more cheaply! Having said this, it may be helpful to have a trusted witness (just as in so called ‘Authentic Movement’ work)- a director, friend or colleague perhaps- who is sensitive enough to be able to monitor and guide the Psychological Gesture work.

Chekhov’s writing is so clear that most intelligent and sensitive actors can learn the techniques and their uses in their own living room, independent of any practical group workshop or formal tuition. Having said that there is much to be gained from working with an ensemble who all drawing on a common vocabulary for the work they are doing. An ensemble who are united in their sense of purpose can support and guide each other through the process, whatever particular theory that might underpin the work itself- whether that be or Chekhov. Grotowski, Stanislavski, Brecht- whoever...

Stanislavski does mention the spiritual component to the art of acting if you are prepared to look closely enough. He writes of prana and radiation-and was very influenced by ideas of yoga- but his approach is at the end of the day very cerebral- as if he were saying that the actor can summon inspiration by concentrated acts of will. But the books are muddled by the fictional framework he uses to advance his ideas, and very difficult to read. Chekhov takes the very best that Stanislavski has to offer, and comes up with a book that is masterfully lucid but more far-reaching. Chekhov takes us further into the realms of the imagination and its mysterious connection with the actor’s body, Chekhov knew that the imagination and the Higher Ego were far more powerful tools for the artist than the mechanistic and ‘utilitarian’ approach of Stanislavski’s. Stanislavski’s theories have been taken up in the American tradition of acting by Lee Strasberg, and there are many in the west who still believe this to be the pinnacle of what it means to be a committed theatre artist. Of course most Method actors would dispute my assumptions about their process as being purely mental- or 'willed'; and admittedly I’m overstating things. But there has always seemed to me to be an implicit requirement of self-immolation bound up with the Method actor’s process. A “you can’t really be a serious artist unless you are prepared to hurt yourself” kind of creed. Both Stanislavski’s and Strasberg’s students were encouraged at times to generate unnecessary unhappiness and harmful psychological turmoil within themselves. In its extreme forms there is very little creative joy in this way of working; a deeply unhealthy level of self-bullying, in fact. Many of Strasberg's star pupils were seriously fucked up by what he asked of them- hence the early deaths, suicides, clinical depression, drug addiction, etc. But I share Chekhov’s view that the audience don’t really want to see the performer really suffer: the feelings should have what he called “an artistic fragrance”. Chekhov insisted the process should be joyful. In addition, he understood that the audience could tolerate the ambiguity of knowing that what is happening on stage is a fiction and yet could still be utterly engaged in the performance and the feelings. There is a gentler and more open method of acting that allows the heart and the imagination to soar rather than encouraging the actor to fix himself within intense, self-involved and rigid narcissism. There is also, I believe, an erroneous assumption in Strasberg’s Method (admittedly a perversion and a misunderstanding of what Stanislavski was actually saying) that if the actor feels emotionally authentic then that authenticity will inevitably communicate itself to an audience, and so move them. This is more often than not demonstrably untrue. Neither Strasberg or Stanislavski ever solved the problem of how to capture the genie in the bottle so that the truth of the character could be recreated each and every time through the use of the actor’s personal “emotional memories”. Chekhov likened emotional memory exercises to trying to dig up a corpse and make it alive again. Chekhov’s techniques helps come much closer to achieving a reliable connection with the ineffable because he does not start from the thinking, or even the emotions, but from the body. I know his techniques work for me anyway, and I do not fuck myself up in the process either! Method actors might accuse me of “acting”, of cheating or lack of authenticity, but you only have to see Strasberg and Chekhov acting on film to instantly know who is the better actor!

Hope this is of some help, Christelle. Let me know if there is anything else. I've attached a CV of my acting work as requested.

The very best of luck with your research- it sounds an absolutely fascinating challenge. It would be great if you could send me a copy when you're finally done! :-)

Yours truly,

Mark Coleman

START

Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.

(Benjamin Franklin)

This is just one of those famous quotes that tends to haunt the reader like some ghostly rottweiler, gnawing away at one’s heels. It just won’t let go of you. Discounting or ignoring it won’t do you a blind bit of good. Of course, that’s because, although brutal, it’s bloody true. It condemns the spinelessness that’s prepared to settle for the specious support of the status quo, or indeed the stupidity of one who plumps for the compromise of a salary cheque for a job one increasingly despises!

I have felt like a songbird in a gilded cage for a long time. The tired old axioms and clichés that say “There’s no way out”, “Life’s shit and then you die”, etc have never troubled me as much as Ben Franklin’s words because they are lies. “Like it or lump it”, “Never, never bite the hand that feeds you”, etc, etc. What’s truly astonishing to me is that it is the rational, common-sense thinkers, the pragmatists, who are content to propagate this philosophy of resignation and self-imposed imaginative impoverishment. And so you find some of the most intelligent, creative people just squandering their entire lives, silently resenting the system without ever really testing the veracity of the ancient creed that keeps them trapped in it. It was ever thus. The Powers-that-be would rather have you believe you have no real choice. You must shut up and surrender your liberty if you want your owner to continue to spoon-feed you through the bars. Take the money and do your share of the work. Just as long as you stay in that safe little cage everything’s gonna be fine.

I’m afraid I’ve accepted this for far too long, and it’s time for me to own up and do something to make old Benjamin- not to mention myself!- proud..

Few of us ever come to realise that the powers conferred upon our employers are entirely illusory. Paper tigers in fact. The only weapon they have when you think about it is their cash. Still they expect dutiful abeyance and respect as they dispense it. The boss had to climb up his/her greasy pole to ‘get where he/she is today’, and even though from the lofty standpoint of expensive ivory towers they may be able to look down on the rest of us, if they have kept a grain of perception they eventually come to the frightening realisation that actually it really wasn’t worth it after all. They have become dead inside. Does God really care about their worldly status? But they can’t be seen to admit that, it would make their life-work utterly meaningless! And so their souls continue to fossilize, and they are damned if they are going to stop now (And of course they will most likely be damned if they don’t!). Anything rather than taking responsibility for their own lives, and taking a chance. They’d much rather you depended on others, just like they do in fact, for money, security and position, relying on others to give you any sense of worth or purpose, always blithely ignoring the still small voice of integrity or moral conviction that whispers the harsh truth. Anything, anything rather do the courageous thing, to stand up and just turn round and say, “Thanks anyway, but no. I choose life,” and walk out on it.

Safety is addictive. It rapidly becomes a greedy monkey for your back. And then it kills you- just like heroin.
I don’t in the end wish to condemn anyone for this addiction. It’s everywhere. For instance, Margaret Morris, our head teacher is doing her job well. She likes me. She gave me a big hug on my first day back! Most of the teachers like her. But her heart isn’t in education really, and she admitted as much to me yesterday. Still she has a nice house and can go to fancy destinations on her holidays. I know how hard it can be to break free of this culture of obedience to a false idea. Especially if you may never have realised it is actually false.
It wasn’t easy, and it’s take me a long time to wake up to this, and then to muster the courage to act on it; but it felt so liberating to walk into Margaret Morris’ office yesterday morning and ‘calmly’ hand in my notice of resignation. I was trembling, with a mixture of fear and excitement, but I knew I was doing the right thing. It was actually thrilling. Just like I was alive again, in fact! She even admitted that she envied my courage, and wished she had the strength of will to do what I had decided to do! A number of other people- Jimmy, Laura, Linda, Suzanne, have reacted in the same way now the news has begun to leak out. I will be missed theyall say, but they are glad I am following my heart. I know they are thinking “I wish I could do that!”

I have resolved to make my mind and my heart fully and wholly congruent as best as I can from this time on I intend to be faithful to the idea of living adventurously, according to my soul’s convictions. This requires guts, integrity and determination. It would have been wrong to wait until I felt desperate, unbearably miserable or angry before I jumped ship, or in fact to do this for any other reason than it is simply the right thing for me to do. To be honest I am no longer confident I am serving others to the best of my capabilities. I have more to offer than being babysitter to boys and girls who don’t want to learn. I am very good at my job, but I could be providing far better service if I were working in a different environment, with those who weren’t constantly needing me to justify why they are doing what they’re doing, but were taking responsibility for their own development. I can no longer permit myself to be enslaved by any one or any thing any more. I hate the idea that I’m cramming these poor kids into mental cages too. And so this means I must cut loose, take responsibility for my own future. I’m an artist, not an educator. There is a huge difference.

I have not made this decision rashly but after much thought and inner searching. I may very well become poor as a result of this decision, and that’s OK-at least I will be me! I’ve never been what might be called a natural rebel, that’s not why I did this. To be honest I haven’t dropped out so that I just fall into another role that’s not really me again. I am doing this because I can be of better service to humanity doing something else, something closer to my heart, something I love. It won’t necessarily be easier- actually the very opposite! It’s bound to be much, much harder), but God and I agree on this.

God makes no guarantees of success, none whatsoever. No, I’m flying blind. All He does guarantee is that He will continue to love me. It’s become paramount to me that I demonstrate how much I love him, and I will do that by trusting His guidance. From this Christmas onward, when I leave the teaching profession for good, after nearly 15years of service, I will be obeying my heart. I want to write; I want to act and direct. I’ve become slow, lazy, old and fat, and it is time I gave myself permission to operate at 100% of my true potential before the curtains are drawn. There can be no turning back now.
I’m 48 years old on Saturday (eek!) and I do not want to look back on a wasted life of disappointment and shirked opportunity. I would hate to be old and in a chair regretting not having given my life’s passion a real try.

“Life”, as Bob Marley says, “is worth much more than gold”.

We’re jammin', Bob.

... Shew wa doo wah!

:-)

What I Did on My Holidays

These last seven weeks have been so creative for me, and I’ll be sorry to see them come to an end. This coming year will test just how much I have worked on in these last couple of months, applying the I’ve lessons learned to all the practical challenges ahead. Although Karen and I have had the chance for jaunts and excursions to Dumfries, Ayr, Troon, the Campsies, Kilsyth and Edinburgh, our holiday has been- well not so much a vacation as- a ‘stay-cation’. But it has meant I’ve had oodles of time to read - about 30 and a half books in all (the half being A Course in Miracles)- mostly spiritual biographies, psychology and philosophy- but also a good bit of poetry, even a little drama too (But only for fun!). I’ve been writing, de-cluttering the house, ‘doing Shakespeare’ for the Bard in the Botanics folk at the Glasgow Fair weekend, growing vegetables, Quakering and catching up with friends I’ve not seen in years (Davey and Grace, Georgette and Nat, Steve, Stuart, John and Mia). And making new friends!- something that had become quite thorny for me this past year or so. Nicola Maharg and Martha Hatch; Eric and Danielle from the Bothy; mad Gino, John Creed, the wonderful Margaret, and naughty David.
Karen has been busy too what with her dialect coaching for the BBC, and auditioning for acting jobs. I’m so excited that she seems to have worked out what she wants to do with her future now too. I will be ‘manifesting’ away for her over the next few months as she strives to make her dreams come true.
I’ve had my Tarot read (twice!), I’ve begun Alexander and Reiki treatment, and started some heart-voice work too.
I’m also proud to report I’ve now got the ball rolling with directing my next 2 directorial projects- Ann Marie Di Mambro’s nostalgic romcom, Tally’s Blood at the Ramshorn, and Lorca’s House of Bernarda Alba for Giffnock Theatre

But I remain proudest of the massive amount of inner work I’ve done. I believe this will prove to be my most worthwhile and lasting achievement of this summer. This time has helped me to consolidate and disentangle my sense of direction and purpose; to refine my understanding of it from a spiritual as well as artistic perspective. This has been due to the fact that I have adapted my meditation process by fusing it with the Focusing practice. This has helped me tremendously to forge stronger links with my Inner Light as a Quaker- and I know these will have a real and noticeable impact on how I tackle the challenges of the next 12 months. I want to start applying some of this inner direction outwardly in the community now. I have come to realise that bringing others to know, trust and connect with the Spirit of the Divine within themselves is the imperative that draws together and unifies all the strands of my life.
I continue to wrestle with my impatience and my passive-aggressive tendencies. However I have hopefully become a little bit more trusting of myself and others. I have really needed this time to ask deep questions of myself and to centre on what greater purpose I might be serving through my work as a teacher, director and actor. But progress has been rapid and very far-reaching. I feel different: lighter, truly positive, more joyful, inspired and loving. Hope it lasts!!!

Orange 3

I sense Raeonis is starting to feel playful. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye. (Surely not...!) With one hand he crumples up the now blank piece of paper and somehow conjures it into a ball made from elastic bands! (You know the kind of thing bored office-workers make?) He throws it toward me. It’s quite heavy.

We chuck it back and forth between us for a while. We’re getting more animated with the rhythm of this movement. It's getting heavier, though. And heavier.

Then he suddenly stops; grasping the elastic-band ball in his right hand.

[“Now, you know what this is about, don’t you, Mark?”]

Oh, not a drama game, for godsakes?
"No, Raeonis, no. No, I don’t."

It’s to do with drama though, isn’t it? And then, as if to help me, from nowhere he conjures an orange. Another orange.

It's a real one this time. He begins to show off, juggling (very UN-angelic behaviour this!): coolly throwing the two spheres in a very deft and dextrous manner from one hand to the other, all the while continuing to stare right at me.

I resent him thinking I might find his clowning entertaining. (It only occurs to me as I write this, several days later, that maybe that was the very point he was trying to make, revealing just how dull and irritating watching a performer demonstrating his 'amazing' skills can be!) My own gaze resists connecting with his. I choose instead to follow the trajectory of the elastic-band ball over the orange, anything rather than allow him the pleasure of believing he's impressing me. I’ve always been drawn- against my better will it has to be said-to things like elastic-band balls; juggling. I guess I’m intrigued by the patience and skilfulness that can make these things happen, and at the same time vaguely annoyed by them too, wondering how on earth anyone could justify wasting so much of their precious time on that stuff.

Raeonis drops the elastic-band ball.

Clomp!

He interrupts my perplexed gaze with that wise, inquisitive peering he does.

[“I know you understand the meaning of this. After all, this is what you do!”]

Me? What? I don’t juggle. And I’ve never made an elastic-band ball! What does he mean?

I grope for handles, none quite fit. Let it come to you, I tell myself. The homemade elastic ball symbolises- what? Play?

[“Not really play, no.”]

What?
Time-wasting?
A riddle?

[“A riddle.? Yes, kind of. Compare it with this orange!”]

Erm… getting caught up in artificial stuff instead of what’s natural…er?

["Again. Try another fit!”]

Inner tension, neurosis, worry?

[“No… colder..”]

Teaching… school?

[“Getting warmer, warmer…”]

… What’s the word????… The word… is…-

Formulation. Formulations!

[“Bingo!”]”

Formularising.

[“And? What else??”]

Idle theoretical work! ... Man-made, cleverly constructed stuff... all that thinking about the natural creative will that strives for a foothold in art, to gain the status of ‘practical application’ but cannot ever be the thing itself, which in fact strangles it instead. Impressive, attractive, so clever-clever and in the end utterly pointless!...

Raeonis nods slowly, sagely, forlornly. [“Yes. Yes... Yes”]

Ouch. I get it. How much time and energy I waste! Wrapping ideas round and round and round themselves.

Raeonis makes a gestures of admonishment. Cease! it says
[“Calm down, Mark! Stop beating yourself up. You’re being too hard on yourself,- as usual!”]

Raeonis is always so compassionate and forgiving but here he is comparing my thinking self- that educated, egoic self- with my natural creative gut-feeling ,God-given instinct. And I'm pretty sure I know which side he's on! It's the old ‘Science’ versus 'Nature' thing. I feel guilty, even though he tells me I really shouldn’t.

Of course I know guilt’s a waste of time of everyone’s time and it's going to tie me up in even more knots. He lifts the elastic-band ball, and I can see that it has become even heavier now. Well, that'll be my guilt, I realise.

Raeonis decides to be playful again. He holds up the ball, and announces in a piss-taking, declamatory tone,

[“Introducing The Professor!”.]

Professor?

He holds up the Orange. [“…And The Possessor.”]

Possessor… ?
What’s that? Professor...? Possessor…?

"You mean like the Talk versus Walk?"

[“Precisely.”]

Why must he communicate in this irritating code? Why can’t he just tell me this stuff, instead of making me work so hard for meaning?

A pause. I’m suddenly tired, tetchy.

I follow his eye-line to gaze at the Orange more carefully, trying to be interested by it. I’m failing. I feel just like a schoolboy in a Maths class; frustrated that I’m being slow, not really getting it. I’m feeling chastened, impatient. What now?

[“Bear with me a little while longer, and then rest.”]

He kicks away the elastic-band ball, which has now grown into a medicine ball. It scoots away at high-speed snapping off vicious elastic bands as it goes whooshing away, out of sight into the mist of turquoise.

I'm relieved it’s gone.

[“Not much longer now, Mark. Focus on the orange. Shine your light, go inside. You know how. Let the convoluted questionings go. Just flow into it right now; let it happen. Trust you’ll remember whatever you’ll need to remember. Relax your head…”]

He has confidence in me. I start to regain confidence in me! I trust him, and so relax into a sort of warm, liquid weariness, looking into the Orange, awaiting my inner light to absorb, breathe in and assimilate... Sensing it like a true synaesthete. I know how to do this, I know how to do this, but Lord I’m so tired. Still I surrender (or I’m being surrendered!) to this experience.

And then....

It’s as if a deep sensation of density that I’d never been conscious until now has melted away. I feel very light. At the same time the orange is flopping open into 6 equal segments (Like a Terry’s Choclate orange, or those pieces you get in Trivial Pursuits I realise afterwards!) in Raeonis' hand. I spasm into a chuckle. The pieces are shining, all the various colours of the rainbow. Uh? My six senses? Yes. The six stages of focusing? Inner knowledge? Yes. The rule of six? (What on earth’s that?!?)…. It's- it's Creation.

["Yea!"]

God created the world in 6 days?!

[“Yes. All of that! But just stop all your questions right now. Just watch! You're gonna love this...]

The pieces are rising up out of his open hand and they’re gliding towards me one by one. They’re merging with me just like the words and the cartoon -orange did before. Each piece taking its place according to its colour where my first six chakras are, lighting them up. Raeonis smiles again turning to leave, and as he does my final crown chakra just bursts into a sun by itself, bathing my whole body and as far as i can see in a violet aura, beyond me and way out into the blue. Oh wow.

I am reclaimed. Reclaimed by a full, extraordinary energy and power. It feels so... so intensely joyful, so invigorating.

[“Enjoy,”] says Raeonis

[“And don’t forget… Write it down!”].


He’s gone.
……………………….

It's several days later and I reckon now, although much of this could indeed be a gift from the divine- and one which still fills my heart with an intense gratitude to my Source- that bits of it might also be the products of my overactive imagination! A blend of the two perhaps, who knows? Well, whatever or wherever it all came from it really astonished me with its eidetic clarity, its amazingly vivid colours, how moved I was by it all. If it was just some kind of manic episode during a meditation, it was all so incredibly positive, so salutary, and really, really helpful too. I don't feel like questioning it.
I mustn't be tempted to analyse it to death. I think this ‘vision’, if that’s what it was, was actually warning of the dangers of cerebral analysis, and instead telling me just to trust my own ‘creative genius’. I believe I was being told to take that 'instinct' back into my teaching when I return to school next week, and also into my directing of Tally's Blood.
In the end I'm convinced that must be why ‘Raeonis’ communicated with me in imagery and symbols instead of words. It was because what he needed me to grasp was in the end much too ineffable and subtle for words alone. And he needed to bypass my 'Elastic-Band' brain! I do know he had some very challenging and profound messages for me, ones that I really don’t want to blench or strangle with rational thinking.

So, you know what…? I’m just gonna simply allow it all just to seep into soul at its own pace, granting the profound significance of it the permission it needs to work at a deep unconscious level.

This much I do know-
It’s good.

:-)

End

Orange 2

On a turquoise inner screen an image appears. It’s a piece of white A4 paper suspended by some invisible power in mid-air about 10ft in front of me, head height. The contents of the page are also invisible to me. I see only the blank side. It was as if the wind were holding the piece of paper aloft, perfectly still. The wind starts to blow gently and ruffle the page, crinkling it slightly. I hear the paper gently rustle, see it curl at the edges. Yet it remains in mid-air before me. And then very slowly it emerges that an angel has materialised and he is holding the piece of paper by the fingertips at the top and bottom- like a herald messenger in a play grasping his script. He is very tall, dressed in a long, pale blue-white gown. His name is Raeonis. I know this because I first met him as a boy. He used to stand over my bed as I drifted off to sleep at night- and here he is again, his glowing face saturated with a blend of ardent gratitude that I should remember him and that I can see him again, glowing with a perfect and intense love.

He glances down again at that paper. He radiates a deep empathetic connection with whatever is written there, which only he sees right now. I sense from his expression he is deeply moved, but without my understanding why. However I am aware as he eventually looks up again that whatever is on this page relates specifically to me. His look tells me this. And it is either written by me, by him or someone else- (God??)- about me. It is my worth, my formula, the key to my soul. This angel connects up with my inner being- a deep, deep connection that pierces my heart like a laser beam, an X-Ray. I somehow know that he is cherishing that of God within me. He sees my own capacity for love, and it’s as if that is all he sees in me. I can feel my heart expanding to a huge size while he does this inner search of my heart, confirming what he has seen on the paper. He can perceive the goodness and highest potential for goodness within me. His green eyes communicate rays of clear and lucid insight, reaching into the deepest recesses of the dark measureless caverns of my heart. He values me unreservedly, for all my unexploited potential, and my striving for the realisation of purpose all my life. He is my Guide, my Guardian Angel I guess, and he passionately craves me to fulfil and manifest that which has hitherto remained unexpressed in my life, due to oh so many self-limiting factors (My laziness for example, my low self-esteem, my negative emotions, my impatience, my settling for convenient second-best, blah blah blah.) He has continued to believe in me though, despite everything, holding me in his secure embrace as he always has through the years, awaiting my hidden purpose to come alive and to fruition. And right now we both know that that time is very near.

He is smiling gently, and I instantly feel hot tears coursing down my face.

I desire more than anything else to know what is on the sheet of paper. I’m burning with curiosity in fact. Without either of us speaking he checks with me that I might not prefer to wait. He needs me to be sure that I will understand and be reconciled with whatever is revealed by its contents. [“Be ready to act on its message,”] he seems to say. I swallow, I gather myself and I breathe. And then I nod my assent. Very slowly Raeonis begins to turn the page, and then he pauses like they do in films whenever something monumental is about to happen and the audience are on the edge of their seats dying to know what’ll happens next (I hate it when they do that!). He looks down again at what is on the page. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. He knows my life is about to change. This is pivotal. There’ll be no going back. I breathe in deeply; he gathers himself. Slowing he turns the page to face me.

It shows a cartoon of a vivid orange-fruit surrounded by light! (???) Below it are some handwritten words in black ink that are too far away right now for me to be able to read. The angel peers into me with a silent earnestness, a penetrating look of loving inquisitiveness that asks, [“Well…? You understand this, don’t you?”]. I’m not at all sure I do. I am trembling. I frame and think the question, “Is it good news?” He smiles, and chuckles in relief. [“Yes, Mark. Oh yes! Good news!”]; and then a sobbing-laughter erupts from his face, tears streaming, brimming over with joyful compassion. I know then that this picture represents my own heart’s joy, my soul’s purpose, a cipher for my unique, inimitable gift to the Universe. I also know I might be more over-awed if I understood what the hell it meant! Or indeed what the words were.

And as if in response to this thought the black lettering starts to move and lift off the page. The words are floating on the air towards me- drifting on the soft breeze so I can read them. A baritone voice (Raeonis’?) announces the title in a calm and measured timbre-

“Acting in the Light”

and as the phrases on the page swim toward me this same voice recites the following words with perfect articulation and a deep resonant quality. It’s in a mid-west American accent, I think, almost like a film trailer voice. “Well, this is a bit naff!” I can’t help thinking! No matter, this is important. Pay attention.


“Clear a space, Mark…”


“What is your FELT SENSE now?”

“Get a handle…”

“Resonate…”



“ASK what this needs…”


“Wait…
…Receive.”

I know these to be the tools and instructions for Connecting. Only connect! Huh! The idea occurs to me that they must be the chapter headings for a book I must write about acting, as well as the basis for teaching the art of acting to my students. My thinking self is immediately on the alert, the defensive, intinctively resistant to this. I can feel myself already framing excuses to avoid applying any of this. I’m not sure I am qualified to write this book, still less make others understand the way to apply any of this. {“A book??? Must I? Do I really have to? I don’t know enough about how to explain this stuff yet.”] I recognise these handwritten phrases as being identical to Gene Gendlin’ six abbreviated instructions for Focusing. But no, Raeonis is quick to assure me that these are the personal access codes for my creative flow, as well as for extending my help to other actors and their processes too.

Pause. Assimilate this. Breathe this in.

It’s at this moment I then hear the orange image on the paper speak to me (!), as if in response to my doubts
It’s a female voice this time. An orange is speaking to me! It says

“Synaesthesia”.

What?!

Just that. Synaesthesia.

Then silence.

And then it clicks… An influx of abundant light, and a shift into an extremely high vibration.

I immediately know this to be the formula for my future creative life, encapsulated in this single concept:

“Synaesthesia”!

Of course! Of course!!!!

SYNAESTHESIA!

It’s a huge Aha! moment for me, something so bleeding obvious, something I have always known but never really been able to articulate before. Of course. OF COURSE. I can feel synapses wiring up and connecting all over my brain. Instant flow.

I know this strange word. Synaesthesia. It describes a medical condition that allows a person to appreciate sounds, colours or words with two or more senses simultaneously. I hear the echoing sound of Michael Chekhov’s voice yelling with glee in the misty blue distance, “Yes!”, [“…Yes!”] and instantly I understand how as a synaesthete he must have known experientially that colours, words, music, architecture and textures are all gestures. He was an genius because he allowed this undiagnosed condition of his to cross-fertilise his sensory experiences of the world through his instinctive sense of PGs inherent in all forms of organic and inorganic life, seen and unseen!

“The unifying principle of synaesthesia is available to all, but is most developed in the people like you, the Artist,” Raeonis instructs me.

Raeonis goes on to tell me he will be with me to assist in drawing together all the many strands of my experience in the fields of acting, directing, writing, teaching etc. I just need to be cool, calm and patient. It will all begin to make sense, and with his help, if I am willing to let him come and work alongside me. It’s a unifying theory that is being revealed to me now; it is like the idea of synaesthesia, he claims…

[“All great art is founded on and guided by this very same principle.”]

And now all of a sudden I am awakened to a deep inner knowing of what this picture of the orange he is holding really is. It is now shimmering. And as it shimmers I start to glow, to irradiate. It goes beyond- way, way beyond- mere understanding, or even empathy or even compassion… No, this orange is me: I am the orange. I know this in my solar plexus, I feel it in my ideal centre. I clutch its cold smell, feel its music lifting me, hear its colours, see its sharp, tangy flavour. (I am salivating now as I open up my arms and become the orange in a sort of lame, but embracing Psychological Gesture!!). Raeonis and I are laughing together now. The colour of the picture has become incredibly vivid. It glows. I hear the drawing’s high hum, and as I do it is like a irresistible harmonic vibration connects me and merges me with it. It lifts off the A4 sheet and is whooshing toward me. All the spoken and the written phrases that have been wafted in the breeze come flooding in towards me too, magnetised by my heart, and melt inside me, absorbed through my skin and into my internal organs. And if I can be this orange…? I can be anything. Anyone. My God, what power.

All of this has the effect of intricate choral harmony, and I stand there shivering with the delight of this, a mysterious and exquisite sense of unity, power and congruence. Flow. Outer and the Inner: Inner and Outer.

“Me, Orange.”, I say aloud, as if stating my name, and then can’t help laughing because it seems so ridiculous when said like this! But still I know it to be true.

I rest in this knowledge for a while. Then I begin to be aware of something else. Raeonis has been standing in front of me, standing in front of me, waiting for me, waiting for me to assimilate all that has happened up till now . There's more. I need only ask, he seems to say, and he will unveil further truths when we feel I am ready to bear them.

I feel so strong, so very awake, and so I say…

[“Bring it on! Let’s do it. I’m ready! Now...! Now!!!”].

He smiles.


Part 2 to follow.

Orange

The strange significance of this image will become a little clearer to the reader (and to me, I trust!) over the next few days. I must first give my mind a chance to catch up with, and deliberate on my inner experience and hopefully prepare to articulate something of what happened during my Experiment with Light focusing meditations last evening. This odd image contains a message for me, a challenge to take action. Whilst wishing to avoid coming across as though I have completely lost the plot, it's feels much more vital that I honour and describe this vision and its deeper meaning with as much integrity as I can: faithfully, coherently and completely. Right now I feel terribly timid about doing this, but know I must. If I do not I am very likely to just slip right back into my customary torpor. And if I do set myself the challenge of writing it down here at least it can then possibly serve as a salutory reminder of how I might begin to fulfil my soul's purpose. Suffice to say, for the time being at least, that this image of an orange bathed in light came to me in response to my asking the question: "What next, Lord?". His answer resonated so deeply I was moved to tears!

And yet I must be patient for now, as I seek discernement just to check that what happened was real- not just my crazed imagination. It may take me a few days, perhaps even a few weeks to assimilate the full signifcance of what's occurred, to test it's validity before I get round to describing it here. However, just for now I include this picture as reminder to myself that something does appear to have shifted deep within my heart- and I seem to have been afforded an extraordinary and unexpected glimpse of what I am being called to do with my life from now on.

More to follow.

Living Adventurously

I cannot begin to express how enriched I feel knowing I have at long last found my spiritual home in the Society of Friends. It permits me to explore my spirituality unfettered by any petty obligations and meaningless rules, and I love the the sheer thrill of searching for God's will for me without any guilt, or having to adhere to any superstitious, narrow-minded creeds.

Of course, whatever Quakers may say there actually is a ritual to the Sunday worship. There may be no ministers, no liturgy, no bells or smells, yet a basic ritualised form is inherent in the sublime, patient waiting in contemplative silence, periodically resulting in someone speaking and spilling their Inner Light, and then other souls kind of 'riffing' on that theme over the course of the hour. It feels like improv actually, except more spiritual of course, and much more satisfying! It's so incredibly simple, and yet it works so much better than the dreary prescriptive services and catechisms I endured for so many years both as a Catholic and as a Protestant. It happens in the present moment, and it feels infinitely more creative, organic and authentic. It reminds me so much of when I was improvising with Razed Curtain- those rare but exquisite, even graceful times when we'd do the 'Howard' improv and it worked. All the threads brought by the individuals in the ensemble mysteriously weaving, intertwining, connecting (that word again) and against all the odds making coherent sense, while at the same time creating something new and far richer than the sum of all its parts.

The 5 Quaker testimonies: Truth and Integrity, Simplicity, Peace and Justice are manifested in tangible, corporate understanding (conviction actually) that true faith springs from a deeply held belief in living our lives according to ones own spiritual experience. This is vital to me as a person, and as an artist. I no longer have to struggle with the awkward and uncomfortable tensions of tolerating stuff I don't believe in, just because the pope, the archbishop or anyone else tells me I should. I feel I can grow alongside others who will support that growth without interfering, as I support them.

And what was even more exciting for me- and amazingly synchronicitous- was that I discovered just a couple of weeks ago that since the late 1990s hundreds of small 'Experiment with Light' groups have sprung up as part of the Quaker movement all over the UK. These groups were set up in response to Rex Ambler's 1996 book, Light to Live By, which drew pararllels between George Fox's ideas about centering down for silent worship and philosopher Eugene Gendlin's therapeutic technique of Focusing, a practice I have been using in my own inner work for the past 16 years. This was to me an unmistakeable sign from God that I had at long last found my spiritual home. Discovering this had the feeling and quality of a perfectly appropriate gift from the Divine, more than i'd even dare pray for. A miracle actually! I feel so abundantly blessed, unspeakably thankful to Him for this, my heart keeps leaping for joy when I think of it!

Since I joined two months ago I have been deeply enriched by meditating on the 42 "Advices and Queries" which begin Quaker Faith and Practice. These Advices and Queries are not laid down as rules ("... For the letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life."), but are really a guide, a reminder of how we might transform our lives "with a measure of light which is pure and holy".

And my favourite one makes me feel so ... I don't know...inspired, so liberated, saved I guess!

It speaks to the very heart of where I am right now, and it reads thus:

"Live adventurously. When choices arise, do you take the way that offers the fullest opportunity for the use of your gifts in the service of God and the community? Let your life speak."

(Advices and Queries, 1:27)

Isn't that just so cool!! :-)