Over the summer, I had a workshop for a play that I wrote over lockdown. I went to an actual, physical rehearsal space and we did a read through and had a bit of a play around. It was magical. I was so excited for it. I had been counting down the days in my head. It was the first time I was meeting up in person to do creative things. And all did not go as planned.
We showed up at our rehearsal space and the door was locked: no one was in. It was such a roller coaster of emotions. I know I am not alone in feeling so frustrated, so creatively bored, so sad for our industry and the way creatives have been treated in the last year. This rehearsal was a beacon for me that we might be able to do more in the future. I was hopeful. I did not cope well with encountering a literal locked door. It was an odd reaction now that I think about it. I really wanted to cry. I think I had built up this day in my mind, so being worried it would now not happen because of some logistical misunderstanding was devastating to me.
We did eventually get into the rehearsal room. I know you were on the edge of your seat waiting for that cliff hanger to resolve itself. The day itself was lovely. We read through the play, got a few scenes on their feet, messed around and enjoyed just being physically in the room. Wow did the play sound better when my (hopefully) flirty and witty banter that I’d written wasn’t punctuated with awkward zoom pauses or softly whispered “is it my line? You cut out for a second”.
I was hoping that this would invigorate me. I would spend the rest of the week churning out the other 89372483 play ideas I have. That’s a lie. I do have another play I would like to start work on. But it’s just one. I thought this rehearsal might spur me into action. And it wasn’t as though the opposite happened. I woke up the next day just feeling… less than. A little blue. A little tired. I spent a lot of Monday beating myself up for not writing or not doing the things I should be doing.
I was hoping coming “back” into normal life (which isn’t even the right way to say it – I am well aware of the nuances of this situation and that “normal” life is not coming back but that’s a whole blo post of its own) would push the grey cloud that’s made its home above my head. And not that it didn’t. Rehearsal was amazing. I want more of them. However, I think it also highlighted to me what I’d been missing. What exactly I’d been missing. I wanted to grieve the last 16 months or so and I think that’s okay too. So whatever way you react to life coming back – it’s okay. If you’re happy, energetic, sad, overwhelmed, withdrawn – process it for you. Easier said than done I know.