Putting Something Good Out into the World

I just completed my first of two recent theatre productions (Coming up next in December: www.lveproductions.com). In a night of John Patrick Shanley plays, I got the juicy role of Billie in "Women of Manhattan." Playing a funny, sassy, madcap NY gal to a sold out crowd our last weekend was an incredible experience. Our production took place under a tent behind a hair salon in the Castro, strung with white twinkle lights and a home-built stage platform - and blankets for the audience in case they got too chilly in the SF night air. We felt like a traveling acting troupe circa Shakespeare's day; like a group of carnies constantly setting up and tearing down as they entertained from town to town.

The exhiliration I felt - that I feel - when on stage is almost indescribable. I felt almost high, like my soul was open and was expressing itself through someone else's words. The magic of evoking emotion night after night - laughter, surprise, poignancy - is unlike anything else I know. I feel as though I put myself, my voice, my passion out into the tapestry of time and space and contribute something, however small, to the world to show I was here. That I become a part of some ancient chorus and can leave my mark by affecting a group of people who are all tied together in this great big world for a 2 hour period of time. In that moment, you are all one, living one shared experience. And the actors on stage are holding the reigns. And when we get it right, you all laugh when we hope you will laugh, you cry when we hope you will cry, and you react when we hope you will be touched. That is pretty heady stuff and in those moments, I feel a truth and beauty in existence unlike anything I've ever known.

Not to get too artsy or esoteric on you (I do work in corporate America, after all), but acting makes me feel alive. Actually, the whole experience of being involved in theatre makes me feel alive. It's like a microcosm of existence. A group of strangers come together. They are unsure, unsteady, need to rely on scripts, directors, stage managers...like a baby clings to its parents. Most of what is created in those first rehearsals, both from the actors and the production staff, is an unholy mess - faltered lines, people getting placed in positions and then getting moved around, production staff waiting around until decisions are made, half-constructed sets, partial props (oftentimes whatever is at hand substitutes for the real thing.) And then somehow, the group meshes, the stage is brought to life, the props materialize, the cues are hit, and the production becomes a freestanding adult. And like any adult, it must share who it is with the world, with the audience.

The ironic thing is after this total "bliss of being", as it were, on closing night and my renewed faith in humanity and my place in the world, the next day I happened to watch "The Crucible" on TV. Remember, the story of the Salem witch trials back in the day? And as I watched neighbors and friends laugh, anticipate and cheer for the deaths of innocents like it was sport, I was so incredibly sad. I actually cried. In 24 hours, I'd been faced with the best of being human and the interconnections we can share and how lovely that is, and then smacked with the ugliness, hate, and disgusting nature of human beings. And it made me feel so hopeless. That we as human beings are capable of such love and joy and then capable of such unspeakable evil. It just didn't make sense and it didn't seem fair.

So what's my point? Nothing. That's the whole point, really. It is what it is and as we struggle between good and evil we just need to try to live this life as passionately and lovingly as we can. We have to create more moments of connection in the world than moments of disconnection. And if we do, there will always be hope. For me, I need to always strive to fit into this short life all the "good stuff" I can, before I inevitably run out of time. There's nothing dreamy, crazy, or philosphical about that: live like you're gonna die tomorrow and the rest will all fall into place. Don't wait to try something "next year", or "when things calm down" - the truth is they never will. So go out there and make your voice heard in the world, touch people however you can and LIVE.

People keep asking me in amazement how I manage to work a full-time job and do all the theatre and writing and whatever else I'm into, in addition to still spending time with my husband and friends. It's easy: I just DO it. I plan, I fit things in and I give up other things that are less important. I say no to some things so I can say yes to others. I can't imagine not making time to do something that makes my heart sing, that makes me feel like I'm putting something back into the world.

So for now, this is my crazy busy, crazy fun life. I'm tired, I'm frantic, but in a great line from the other Shanley play that was done, The Big Funk (and I'm paraphrasing here): "You're supposed to be weary. That's what death is for. For rest."