It doesn’t matter if I’m about to perform before twenty people or twenty thousand people—I go through the same preparation and ritual as I have done for decades. It doesn’t matter how many thousands of times I’ve performed before, this is a new audience, and I want to be at my best. I am fastidious. I have to be extremely clean—my hair, teeth, makeup, and clothing all have to be perfect. As I’ve mentioned before, going onstage is a spiritual experience for me. On one side, I go there with the same feeling of respect as I would have going to church. On the other, I go out there with the excitement as though reaching out to a lover in passionate embrace. Once upon a time before hypnotherapy, I would get so nervous before a show that I felt like I would die. Today, I use that same energy for a better purpose. Before walking onto the stage, I go into isolation. I don’t like to talk to anyone. I pace. I feel like a racehorse getting into the starting gate. Just open the gate and let me go!
There’s always a question-and-answer section in the show, and it is interesting to hear what hits home. Some have questions about Ruth Helen and her family who provided the scholarship for me to go to New York. Were we still in touch? they wanted to know. At one recent show, I shared with them that we had just spent almost a week together on my way to their city. The audience seemed to be in awe that I had maintained that friendship for so many decades. I told them that I couldn’t imagine being any other way. It is so important to me to never forget those kindnesses. I think those longstanding relationships go back to that overarching concept of trust. It comes down to meaning what you say and doing what you promise.
Many times, there are also receptions right after a performance. Again, the questions keep coming. It is a humbling phenomenon how people open up to me. Part of it I know must be the comfort they feel because of the persona of Carol Brady, whom they grew to know as if I had become a member of their family. I also know that the brief telling of my life’s story through words and music on the stage pushes emotional buttons and hits common chords. Their questions may be directed to me, wanting to know more about my life and experience, but their choice of questions is always fascinating to me in what they reveal about themselves in the asking.
For example, many want to know after learning about my marriage to John whether I’m dating again and believe it’s possible to find another soul mate in this lifetime. On this topic, I don’t mince my words. There’s a lot of loneliness and dashed hopes out there, but even in these short exchanges I want to transmit something to them that may help them to shift into a more positive frame of mind.
I admit to them that I had my dark moments of doubt about this, which I have thankfully overcome. I think a person’s tendency is to think, “Oh well, I’ll never meet anyone, and I’ll never forget about him.” I had dinner with some English friends a while back. One of the women said, “Oh, no, I’ll never meet anyone. I don’t need anyone. It’s over for me. But I do have my doggies.”
I answer the question by stating that I have not folded my tent to the possibility of having a great companion and partner again. Instead, I’ve strived to live each day continuing in the same spirit that John and I had together. I often hear his voice: “Come on. Keep moving forward. Things keep opening up. That’s the only way we can evolve.” So that’s what I’ve tried to do.
I think about the times in our final years together when I’d go pick him up at the boat to go out to dinner after work. I had to drive my car as far out toward the dock as possible because his legs hurt him. He’d see the car. He would jog up the stairs knowing that it would make me laugh. He was pretending to be a misbehaving child because it was really something that he couldn’t and wasn’t supposed to be doing according to doctor’s orders. The real enjoyment was in that spontaneity, a quality I continue to exercise in sharing my life with my friends, children, and grandchildren. I’m so fortunate. If that were it in terms of my allotted ration of soul mates, it would be okay, but I’m not ready to give up.
Dating! That is a different kettle of fish at this phase of my life. For better or for worse, you do get into a set routine as you get older. And what a relief it is to not always feel obligated to unselfishly accommodate someone else and sublimate your own wishes, which I did for a great portion of my life. Once you’ve reached a state of greater peace and contentment with your life, you’re not driven by that same anxiety and grasping need to find someone to fill up some empty spot in your heart. Asking someone else to heal your wounds is a recipe for disappointment. If someone comes along who has a similar spirit and commitment to improving themselves, then you have the foundation for building a meaningful relationship. Above all, once you’ve had the real thing, it’s hard to settle for second best.
Thank God, I’ve always been a one-man-at-a-time woman, otherwise I’d need a social secretary just to keep track of the interested gentleman callers. Please understand that I am grateful for and flattered by all the attention. The investment banker, the former television network press agent, the philanthropist, the chiropractor, the magician, the MD, the mime, the “straight” hairdresser, and the financial advisor
