Paradise Lost and Found
It feels weird to write the word 'me' right now when everything we're currently doing is for the collective 'we'. We are staying at home for each other. We are shopping for groceries for each other. We are forging ahead into a new, weird, panicky way of existing for each other. We are freaking each other out on social media, for each other. But tone-deaf woman that I am, I am going to try and speak about something personal....but it ends in a universal, I promise. Stick with me.
As many of you know, I went back to school last year to find some hard skills and a bit more stability in my life, and Thomas's life. The poor guy's been put through enough thanks to my flaky ass, right?! I've said it before but I'll say it again; It floored me how positive of an experience schooling, adult-style was. I found a new love in copywriting. A way for my brain to play and create in a new way. My teachers were helpful, and smart, and supportive. Basically, a 180 on my theatre school experience. Something in me was healed by the experience. An old scar that never fully went away started to fade and I couldn't quite remember where it even was in the first place. I'm proud to say today, thanks to Humber I got back a little something that was lost at George Brown theatre school. But blah blah blah that's an old story I've been telling for years. I want to tell you a new story. This post isn't about my new love, copywriting, it's about my forever love, the arts.
Today was a big day for me, (there's that word 'me' again, ew!). Today was my first and last day on the job at the theatre I saw my first show at. The theatre that I've been trying to work at pretty much my whole life. The theatahhhh I had pretty much said 'oh that's for reallll actors. Not for almosts. Not for theatre school rejects like moi.' See how toxic it can get in an actor's brain?! No wonder I needed a break from myself, woof! Anyway, just when I had let the thought go last year, something funny happened. I got cast in Paradise Lost by the powerhouse women, Sarah Garton Stanley and Jillian Keiley, who run the National Arts Centre. Hmm, life is weird, and odd, and funny. I seem to be the butt of my life's jokes, but luckily I have an okay sense of humour. Our first day of rehearsal was supposed to be March 23rd.
So, in the midst of this new reality we are all grappling with, the show I had been contracted for a year ago, Paradise Lost, got cancelled. no shocker here. Everything has been cancelled and for good friggen reason. It was the only decision that could have been made with everything that's going down right now. So, Sarah, the director, had this great idea to do our first read over Zoom, so we could all see the designers' work and hear each other do the damn thing at least once.
So, I set up my computer in the worst lighting possible, sat at my WFH desk, stared into my computer, and had a once in a lifetime experience.
I have been TENSE. The world is a scary place right now and despite having many, many blessings in my life, I have been anxious as fuck, to say the least. I've washed my hands raw, gotten so worried my muscles ache, cried at pretty much anything, and told my husband I love him about 5,000 times a day. He isn't super into it, but he puts up with it because he has the patience of a saint. Anyway, we have all been feeling this collective... tightening, anxiety, agita...? The amount of heavy sighing, globally, has gone up exponentially, the...I feel like I'm rambling about stuff you already know so instead of ramping things up another notch I'll get to my point.
Today was the first time since lock down that I have felt like myself. I sat on Zoom in front of a group of 20 other artists, and arts administrators. Most were strangers, some were lovely former colleagues. And, I tell ya, I've never felt something quite like it. I could feel their humanity through the screen. I swear I could literally feel them as if they were right there in the room with me. We laughed and we cried, and it was okay. There were tiny blips and we had our guards down, and it was okay. We knew this was the first and last time, and it was okay. It was better than okay. It was great. It's hard to put into words, and I'm a writer! We were...utterly human. We were, I don't know, practicing human-ness and holding space together? There was a release from the pressure. We could do this one thing and that was enough. Basically, I'm writing this post so I can hang onto the feeling of today for as long as I can. I think there might be something glean-able (is that a word, fuck it, I'm using it irregardless (another fake word!) the glean-able lessons and gifts were so overwhelming that I wanted to share:
Nothing really matters more than showing people you're with them. It's okay to not be okay. I spent so much time in my life worried I might be overstepping, or I might be rejected, or that I should have distanced myself because I didn't want anyone to see my shame. But today reminded me that the only way to avoid shame is to completely stand in your humanness. Because none of us really know what the fuck we're doing, but we can own it, and choose to be good humans to each other. That's enough.
LESSON THE SECOND (sorry the play is about the bible so I get all hopped up on bible speak and tone, smiteth me!), there is so much talent out there. I had the unique pleasure of being in this larger-than-usual cast for a Canadian theatre production. So, I got to sit and listen to these wonderfully talented people do their thing. I felt like we were all in a collective state of flow. It was a treat and an escape wayyyy better than Netflix. No shade Netflix you are still my god. But I was moved by their ability to adapt and this was through a damn screen.
Third lesson, it's so important to do 'normal' things right now. Those things that bring you joy and make you feel like your pre-quarantine self. I had forgotten her over the past week. My muscles had forgotten how to let go and relax. I had forgotten that sitting around a table, and cracking a script open, and reading in that magical organized-fun-kind-of-way is one of the most normal and joy inducing things in my life. I was reminded of that today. I was thankful for that today.
Fourth lesson, I have more but I'll let this be the last lesson because ...I know we're all busy and we all have places to be....no, too soon? You're right. Sorry.
Forth lesson: the arts are vital. The only thing that has gotten me away from my own thoughts this past week have been artists. The ones hosting free online movement classes, and drawing classes, and dance classes, and one-woman shows, and concerts, and DJ dance parties. Thank you. Maybe throw them some coin if you are able to do that during this time.
Because at the end of the day it's our stories, the art, and catharsis of those stories that validate our existence. It's how we hold the mirror up and say; you matter, your fears matter, your story matters, your life matters. The arts are a way to reach across the abyss and ask...'you too?'.
So I want to end this off as a kind of thanks. Or a prayer, if that's your thing. Or just words that feel important right now, but maybe won't in a week. That's the wild thing about this uncertainty, what feels important now, might not be in a day. All I know is, today was a good day. And for that I'm very thankful. May we all have days that surprise and delight us. That remind us of who we are. That remind us that better days will come. A reminder that when it seems dark you can crack the spine of a script, jump on Zoom, and create some light.
Be well,
Be safe,
Be thoughtful,
Gab