A Blog by Wendy Diehlmann
One of the many things I have loved about being part of community theater has much to do with the (terrifying) thrill of standing, literally, ‘in the moment,’ on stage, moments before the play begins. The audience is out there, waiting, expectant, curious. Ready and willing to suspend belief and be carried away in the story that is about to unfold. (Though likewise unapologetically willing to register any displeasure- not at least chuckling, merely politely applauding, to name a few of those worrying responses.) There’s no room for doubt, absolutely no room for mistakes- that’s the terror of it: what if I forget my lines?! But if a mistake does happen, (i.e., someone making an entry before it is time – or not making an entry when it is time, or the most dreaded dropping of line/s) well, being in the moment also forces you and everyone there on stage with you to think on your feet. And this is where the trust and faith in one another that have become part of the comradery formed during the rehearsal season comes in- everyone has everyone’s back. Somehow, someone always manages to pick up the lost thread, weave it back into the dialogue (or deal with the early or late entrance with a bit of improv) and suddenly everyone is back on course and the play resumes its forward direction.
Each performance begins the same. Everyone is in place in the darkness behind the curtain. For me there was always moments of panic; but the absolute reality of there’s no turning back now! helped (shoved) me mentally up to the edge- that moment when the curtains have begun to open and the house lights go down as the stage lights come up- and suddenly you’re in freefall, and you know you will be for the next few hours. But everyone on stage is in freefall right along with you. You’re all in this together. The play has taken wing and become a living thing. The energy of that is incredible.
What I came away with from my on-stage experience, and which I carry with me to this day in all areas of my life, is the truth of the old adage, nothing lasts forever. Being on stage taught me to embrace being in the moment and appreciate an experience while it is happening but not to try to hang onto it. It’s always a bit of a letdown when the last performance is behind you. You miss the others you’ve spent so much time with working hard to bring the play to life and being a part of something so much larger than yourself. You miss the exhilaration and freedom of being totally outside of your everyday life for a few hours each evening during rehearsals and in the amazing rush of the live performances before an audience. Always, though, after a few (or several) days, you find yourself settling back into everyday life. But each time you find everyday life a little changed for the better. You’ve learned to let go of a thing that has finished, enjoy the memories of it always, and to be open to new and unexpected opportunities and experiences.