We can change our ways

Last month I was blessed to be gifted a ticket to a live theatre production that was produced, staged, and performed by a local, amateur troupe. Of all the performing arts, live theatre may be my favorite. But, curiously, I have not always enjoyed the theatre productions I attended.

Roll the clock back a few decades and I would find myself going to live theatre a couple of times each month. I enjoyed going to everything from major, professional productions to local, amateur shows put on by high school kids. I would gladly go to almost anything, but I would often not enjoy the productions. And my enjoyment of the production had little, if anything to do, with the actors being professional or amateur.

I came to recognize that my enjoyment, or not, of any given production was based almost entirely on if I felt the actor or actress was comfortable or nervous. If the actor or actress was comfortable, I was comfortable and would almost always enjoy the production. But if the actor or actress was nervous, then I would be nervous and almost always not enjoy the production.

I will spare you the pathological analysis of why I felt comfortable if the actor or actress was comfortable, or why I felt nervous if I sensed the actor or actress was nervous. What I taught myself was that my enjoyment of the play was predicated on whether the actor or actress was comfortable or nervous. I placed my enjoyment, or not, in the hands of another.

I had not been to a live play in many years—are you surprised! So when I was gifted the ticket to attend the production last month, my body immediately started to bring back the feelings and emotions associated with my enjoyment, or not, of a play based on the actor or actress’ comfortableness or nervousness. I brought these feelings and emotions into my meditation and inner work and knew I had to drop the underlying issues if I was going to change my ways.

The play I attended had a cast of nine actors. Eight of the nine actors were present in the first two scenes of the play. Some of the actors seemed quite comfortable, others looked unsure, and still others did not look like they wanted to be there. There was certainly plenty of mixed emotions playing itself out on stage, no pun intended.

As the play unfolded I increasingly became aware of my enjoyment of the production. Remember, it was an amateur production. This meant, for this production, the stage lighting, sound, and sets were minimalistic and basic, at best. There were a few foibles when actors entered and exited the stage and scenes. But the show went on.

And as the show went on, I enjoyed the production more and more, regardless of what was playing itself out on stage; again, no pun intended. I grew in my appreciation for the actors’ abilities, efforts, and dedication to their task at hand. I grew in appreciation of the actors’ courage and willingness to put themselves ‘out their’ and be willing to be judged.

And it was in THAT moment, the moment of awareness and insight around my judgement that I realized why I was enjoying this particular production so much. I wasn’t judging. I had dropped my judgements. I simply allowed to unfold what was unfolding. I didn’t want it to be something else. I didn’t want the actors to be something or someone else. I didn’t want the actors to be a better or worse rendition of themselves. I wanted the actors to be just who they were, acting out the scenes as they wanted to, interpreting things as they wanted to. It didn’t matter to me if they were believable or not. It didn’t matter to me if the lighting, sound, or sets worked. All that mattered was that I allowed the play to unfold as it unfolded and to accept it for what it was, instead of what I thought it could or should be.

I walked out of the theatre on a bit of a high. In this instance anyways, going to the theatre, I had changed my ways. Back to the theatre I say! The next production awaits!