Checking in. It’s something I’m working on right now. And by checking in, I mean checking into the world of the play, the culmination of the process, and the task at hand. Some folks refer to tech/dress week as “hell week.” Doesn’t that seem unfitting for when all the fun is about to begin?
The play is the thing. The process is the thing. And there aren’t many other things. And this is just the way it goes. Sure, I still eat, and call my mom, and my kid still eats too.
But other than that, I’m in.
I love this part.
This is the part in the process when I get to laugh at myself for all the terrible choices I made for four weeks. A backstory of unnecessary length. All the worries, all the hope. All the things I missed, all the extraneous and cumbersome details that weren’t ever important but I still wanted to feel important so I made them important to me even though they provided minimal help, and…I get to exhale.
I get to put it all together.
And while some rehearsals felt like a reluctant second date, others felt like Christmas morning. And they were all equally important. Each their own beast of growth and grit. And while each working session is now a part of me, they will soon disappear against the ether of our new created world.
After the process, comes the play.
It started with a tiny seed that was to germinate, sprout, and fill the void of an entire universe. That’s the process. That’s the play, dammit.
And there is nothing greater than the play. Not your backstory, your plight, your arc.
Rehearsals are over. Lab session concluded.
And suddenly all is calm. I’m drifting along a transcendental through-line and nothing feels better. And there is nothing else.
You don’t get here without the process. And now you can’t leave.
And yet in 3 short weeks, you won’t be able to return.
Isn’t it beautiful?
Eric St. Cyr
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