Perspective

Theater artists and moms of young children have something in common -- both groups tend to have lots of insecure members. Both have to be exquisitely sensitive to do their jobs well, and most have an intense drive to do not only their best, but to seek perfection. What this often translates to is a preoccupation with details; "little" things like individual performances or whether your kid reads at age 3 or 5 or 10.

There is a lot of ugliness inherent to our world, a great deal of which we have to block out of our minds and hearts (when we're not directly experiencing it, and sometimes even when we are) if we are to stay sane. I do think, though, that it's important to consider this ugliness when we get caught up in the stresses of living our normal lives. For example, I think it's dreadfully important to eat well -- in fact, many of today's problems stem from improper nutrition and ingestion of icky chemicals that upset our behaviour in hideous ways. However, I'm not going to stress over the occasional chicken nugget or cup of soda or bowl of mac n cheese. Seriously, as bad as these foods are, going without food is worse. Always.

When I write rather neurotically about this theater job or that one, and I complain somewhat bitterly about lack of time or skills or the importance of this thing or that one, it's important that you know that I do understand where these matters lie in the hierarchy of the world. I feel unbelievably fortunate and blessed to have these things to worry about. I don't think that we should not do these things because others, for whatever reason, are unable -- but I do think that we should recognize our blessings, and whenever possible, work towards a world in which everyone can worry about these non-life and spirit threatening issues.

Today, I am particularly struck by the sacrifices that our men and women in uniform make to protect us. Whatever your stand politically, and I am a strong advocate of peace whenever possible, these people face obstacles and situations that would kill most of us, spiritually, mentally and physically. From leaving small children and husbands and wives to be stationed in ravaged countries with little resources, to being left behind without support for months at a time, to fighting social, political and physical battles with few resources at their disposal, to never knowing what the next assignment will be, these people are brave and resilient. So, when you are doing something that you consider to be really important, take a moment and send a wave of energy and hope, or a small prayer, up for these men and women and all of the citizens of the countries in which they are stationed. Whatever their reasons for being there, the more positive energy going their way, the better.

Deep thoughts for today. "Love one another as I have loved you." More difficult words have never been uttered.

Scroogey

What do you do when you step outside of your comfort zone in theater? Ridiculous question, that; for, supposedly, if you're doing things well, you're constantly pushing the limits of your abilities and discovering new ways of thinking, being, and approaching the art and craft. I do have to say, though, that there is a big difference between being adventurous within a comfort zone, and being adventurous by leaving a comfort zone.

By example, I recently participated in a fun theater fundraiser (still have two more performances, actually) that involved teams of actors, writers, and directors who wrote and staged 10 minute plays in 24 hours. We received the general theme, one required line of dialogue, and one required prop at 6pm on a Friday, were divided randomly into 8 teams (one writer, one director, 2-3 actors), and were sent off on our own. The scripts were due at 6am, and the actors and directors had until 6:30 (the call time) Saturday evening to stage the show and memorize lines. I opted to act this time (definitely within my comfort zone), but when the writer asked if there was anything that we had never done on stage but that we really wanted to try, I said, "I want my character to sing. Something easy, but I want to sing." And so he wrote in a reference to South Pacific and I sang a bit of Bali Hai. The first night I lost the tune and half of the words while waiting backstage for my entrance (I had never heard Bali Hai before , and so had learned it along with the rest of my lines that day). The second night, I was pleased with my performance. I had stretched myself, but not leaped, so to speak.

I'm also stage managing a swell children's musical, and frankly, stage managing is not squarely within my comfort zone. I know the stage and rehearsal process from an actor's perspective, and it makes me a bit nervous to switch gears. I don't mind not being in the spotlight every time (that's truly not why I enjoy acting anyway), but I dislike uncertainty. I don't mind stepping up to the plate to fill in where needed, but I like to know that I'm doing my job, and a stage manager's job (at least in local/regional theater) seems so ambiguous to me until the performances start. This is, admittedly, a weakness on my part (no pun intended, of course). In this particular case, the process has been harder for me than it might otherwise have been, because I'm working with a new company -- which means new people (in particular, a new director) and new expectations. To put the icing on the cookie, the rehearsal process has been fast and furious. These kinds of new things are definitely not my forte, but I hope that this leap will prove beneficial to both me and the show.


Moral? There isn't one. Theater is exciting and unexpected in so many ways. I'm pleased whenever I step out of my box and try something different for me. And I'm terribly, unbelievably excited at the prospect of my 6 year old seeing the cool musical that his mom supported, despite her weak management skills. Go on: step out, take a risk, and be humbled and amazed.