ON STAGE

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players - Shakespeare. Well, Shakespeare had it right. People do try to put on a show for the world. We dress up in our costumes and say what we think is appropriate, the lines society has written for us falling gracefully from our lips, never questioning who writes these lines we so naturally repeat, never taking a break from the act. Until we're offstage. Then we become ourselves. And the lines desert us and all that is left is the person and often that isn't very much at all because so much of the person falls away with the character. But the character is a mirage, a myth, a happy lie, and so too is the part of the personality that depends upon it.

And then we see them. That person. The one who walks boldly onto the stage at the wrong moment. He doesn't wait for his que. She doesn't dress in the appropriate costume. He doesn't simper for the audience. She doesn't follow the dictates of the director. They are themselves. They walk boldly onto the stage of life without and dare to be themselves when the spotlight falls on them. And the other players are in awe. Who could have written a more divine or inspired character than this, the self? Who could write a character so full of contradiction and conflict, so real and captivating?

And we're all shaken. All of us players. We stutter a little in the deliver of our lines. We glance nervously at one another, trying to understand why the script has changed. And we're envious. Because we wish that we had the courage to walk onto the stage without having to hide behind our costumes and lines. We wish that we didn't live in fear. But we do. We're terrified that people love the character we play, not the actor. We're afraid that if one day we walk onto the stage without our lines memorized and our expressions practiced, people will boo and laugh and criticize. We know that we just couldn't handle the rejection. We don't think we have the courage to be those people who come as they are instead of as they ought to be.

But we forget two important things. First, most others around us are players too. And it isn't in a players lines to criticize and laugh and judge. Players are too busy being worried about being criticized and laughed at and judge themselves. And second, those people on the stage. Not the characters, the people. Those ones we fear and admire in the same instant. They aren't real all the time. Sometimes they are players. But it's courage alone that allows them to remove their costumes.

This whole thought begs the question...are you a player?...or a person?...and can you live with that choice?

Katie