Space to Breathe

A colleague recently asked ‘how do you possibly have the time to do theatre? I don’t know how you do it!” 

It made me stop for a brief moment. I’m a full time teacher; I manage a faculty. I’m a mother of two, a wife; I manage a household. Was it actually a matter of time or something else altogether?

Our calendar on the kitchen wall is full. Sure, there’s the usual play dates, assemblies and kids activities. But I’m there too. And it made me wonder if many mums and wives are there. Are our activities outside ‘hair’, wax’ or ‘lunch with Jools’ placed on the calendar? Is that why others question how I have the time? Am I selfish for having a hobby? One that gives me joy and art and breath? One where I can just be Laura, not Miss or Mum or a loving partner? Where I can be. And thrive.

For the current show that’s in rehearsal, I am production manager and stage manager. Some nights I am tugged and yanked in all directions - Where is my Script? Can you do my wig? Can I wear my nose ring? Have you removed the chandelier? Do you have the music on usb? Are we running Act 2 in full? Are we done with photos now?

I’ll be honest, I wanted to shout, “Leave me alone!” But I took a deep, unrelenting breath. I closed my eyes for a millisecond. I waited. She came. I reached for her hand and held it tight. She set to work. She had the answers. She had the ability. She had the knowledge. She had the courage. She had the patience, the understanding, the reason, the kindness, the humour, the caution, the skill. 

And when the photos were taken, the people were merry, the furniture was set and all was ready, she let go. The breath I had been holding oozed out - a slow, deep heave. I had done it. I had owned it. I had thrived. 

I’ve danced hand in hand with Theatre since I was a kid. Long before husband and mortgage and kids and career. Her and I have grown together. We’ve sung in the chorus and directed dramas, laughed front of house and cried in the crowd. Inseparable. She has introduced me to my best friends. She has provided a community of like minded souls - a little off kilter - who come together to play like children at a park. And play is living. Skipping, giggling, leaping. 

These ‘activities’ are not just for our children. They can be ours too. We can live, not just exist on the margins of the calendar. We can take up space. 

I take up space. Necessary space. The little box on the calendar reading ‘Rehearse’ ‘Show’ Meeting’ is valid. It’s vital. It’s about commitment and passion. And when Theatre calls my name, I will always take her hand. She makes me who I am, and I need no excuse for that. 

Time?

Yes, I have the time.