Have you ever woken up one day and wondered how you got to be where you are in life? Of course you remember everything, the hard work, the difficult choices, the victories and long hours, but at the same time you're lost.
I used to think that strange, mysterious place between waking and sleeping was foggy and could not be trusted, but perhaps it's there that clarity actually lives, breathes and moves without the heavy bulk of logic, responsibility and expectation to suffocate.
This morning that gray place between dreams and daylight took me to the night of my fifth grade Speech and Spelling Competition. It was the first year I could compete and I was doing a monologue I had worked on for weeks, maybe months, in anticipation of this one night. I loved acting, so much so that before I was old enough to compete, I memorized my older sister's piece and offered my "advice" on how she should perform it. She of course got annoyed and angry that her little sister was telling her what to do and my mom told me to go play somewhere else, my turn would come.
I remember feeling a little nervous, but confident as the room filled with more and more parents, grandparents and fellow students. I was wearing a white t-shirt with black corduroy overalls and a black head band - my mother insisted that I keep the hair out of my face, "So everyone can see your eyes."
The night was like a dream. I became my character and delivered the piece with energy, comedy and flare, taking a first place, shiny blue ribbon home. My school was small, my hometown is small and the most important thing for a kid in that town was - or is?- to be good at basketball. I, just over 5 feet, was not. All year I dreaded basketball season but forced myself to play because that's what everybody did, and I was terrible, but endured. But for one night a year, I could be the best at something. I could use my talent and my passion, drawing the crowd in and taking them on an adventure with me. That first Speech and Spelling competition in fifth grade opened up the next seven years of my love for acting - Forensics Club and State competitions, school plays, improve groups, I did it all - anything to act.
But then came graduation and college. Freshman year came and went but I never tried out for a play. Sophomore year, the same. Junior year I forgot about acting to pursue early graduation and Senior year was over in a blink of an eye. Graduation, the big move across the country, a job with great promise that never went anywhere but disappointment, then photography, my hobby gone career, which I love and am so thankful for...
But this morning the gray, foggy, waking, sleeping place asked why I gave it up? Why didn't I see where acting could take me? It sounds ridiculous in the clear light of day, but I can't ignore the question. This morning I realized I only get to do this once. I don't get to go back and be 18 when everyone is asking what college you'll go to and what major you are, (as if that really makes a difference these days) and their reaction is either one of impressed approval or smug disdain because it doesn't fit into the box called Logical.
Maybe you're laughing as you read this, thinking what a dramatic string of thoughts this is. But today I woke up to the cold realization that I can't go back, I may never set foot on a stage again, I don't have a second chance or a second life to live. There are a million other lives I could have lived that I never will. But as you're laughing I wonder - What did you give up? Where else could we be? Who else could we be?
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