My Soul, the Mule
2023; University of Nebraska Press; Volume: 44; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/abr.2023.a906492
ISSN2153-4578
Autores Tópico(s)Religious Studies and Spiritual Practices
ResumoMy Soul, the Mule Brad Adams (bio) rejection is good for the soul. my soul is now a mule. —Charles Bukowski In a primitive sense, our brains are hardwired to protect us from threats in the environment. The primary function of the amygdala, or lizard brain—a leftover from our evolutionary journey from our ape-like ancestors to modern man—is threat assessment. When our primitive decedents sensed a threat in the environment, their fear-based response triggered a release of adrenaline and cortisol so that they could fight back or, in the face of imminent danger, flee. Oftentimes, though, the real threat in primitive society was being ostracized and expelled from the tribe. This would have been akin to a death sentence, survival being nearly impossible without protection of the community. The pain of this kind of rejection was palpable and physical, a warning to primitive man that he should probably apologize to Caveman Bob for stealing his spear. Scientists have since discovered through research using fMRI technology that the same neural pathways responding to physical pain are also activated when one experiences rejection. In another study, researchers gave acetaminophen to subjects before asking them to recall a painful rejection in their past. The control group received a sugar pill and reported greater emotional pain than the ones who had taken the Tylenol. Basically, rejection really hurts. Given that, one might consider a person a sadist for actively engaging in pursuits that constantly risk rejection. Guilty as charged. Acting, writing, and a career in sales has filled my past and present with a deep well of rejection. A well I often peer down into and call out Why? until I only hear the echo of my own voice over and over. Why? Why? Why? Why? The pursuit of art, especially mediums that require a willing audience, follow a process that checks the artistic value, depth of meaning, and execution against a receiving audience's expectations. They are judge, jury, and executioner of artistic acceptance. Applause or boos. Which do you prefer? [End Page 44] I started the pursuit of acting in my early teens and was naive as to just how often I might be rebuffed in my pursuit of the craft. At fifteen I auditioned for and accepted my first-ever role, that of Theseus in a high school production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. With very little knowledge of what the play was about or what my line, "now our nuptial hour draws on apace," even meant, I felt fortunate to even be cast. Could it always be this easy? Just read words and get applause? It could not, and would not, be that easy. I changed high schools in the middle of my freshman year and auditioned for the spring play, Sondheim's Into the Woods. After a nail-biting audition and callback, the director posted the cast list later that evening on the glass doors of the theatre's lobby. We had all been sitting outside for hours, nervously awaiting results. Once they were posted, I joined a huddled crowd of young thespians who scanned character's names and corresponding actors. Seemingly in slow motion I scanned the cast list three or four times, wondering if I had a mini-stroke and simply failed to see my name. In the days and weeks that followed my omission (in error!) from the production, my response to being rejected felt much like stages of grief. First, immediate denial. Perhaps they simply posted the wrong cast list! Maybe this list was a draft that they mixed up with the final casting, the real list—you know, the one where I was chosen to be The Big Bad Wolf. Palpable anger followed, and I loathed the idea of my parents plucking me from a school where I was pursuing a budding theatre career only to plop me down in a talent-rich school where I may never trod the worn floorboards of theatre life again. I definitely nailed the overly dramatic part of acting. Later, and only in my teenage head, I bargained with the director to include me, to give me a chance. Maybe I...
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