Waiting for it...

I have been waiting ... quietly (unlike me, I know) for something, anything really, to wake me from this dull sense that I am in a trance. You see, after the final curtain fell, I was alone again - an unhappy minstrel without his voice, without his song ... without his muse. That event is inevitable in this crazy business we call "show," and it repeats itself over and over and over again like some cruel joke - somehow each time taking a bit more of my soul it seems. And yet I am constantly drawn back for more: more life, more excitement, more growth, more connection, more love and pain and harmony and discord and ultimately, a kind of death. But under those lights, with the players, I am transformed - no, truthfully, I am alive, not just existing but really alive. How ironic it must seem to you - as I am taking on someone else, another character, one who is not me. And yet, I know, that all of them, whomever I "play," is another part of me. I get to express the fullness of me you see - I get to find more of me. I think only in those moments of that process am I really tasting the truth of life's essence; I am present with eyes and mind open, lungs fully expanded, ready to face it all - soaking it in like a sponge; throwing myself off the cliff of expression and daring to challenge myself for something more. So when it is finished (as it always is) I am distraught. Maybe the only other connection that brings this life can be found in true love. But alas, I have had it and lost it and found it now with another who does not share it. And so I wait ... for an answer - for a call - for the news - for the map - for the voice - for the words - for, "You are the one that I have been waiting for!"