Here I sit, grungy and with my hair sticking every which way out of a bun on top of my head, on the 29th anniversary of my oldest sibling’s death, having told myself this morning: today you may feel whatever you need to feel — nothing, sadness, nostalgia, gratitude, anger… whatever you need to feel.
But the feelings and the loss aren’t the point right at this moment. No. I think it was…. the permission. It was that in that state of self-given permission I went to send in a Big Deal Application, and listened back to recordings I made last month with my spouse. And of course as I listened I wondered why I made that weird face there, shook my head over a pointless unstylistic portamento here, laughed appreciatively at a good acting choice in one spot, enjoyed the consistency of my tone in another section…thoughts surfaced asking me if I could sing those arias better today than last month, or if maybe I had plateaued… and so on.
Then I went downstairs to toast a bagel.
And then
All of a sudden
My mind said very clearly “what if it is OK to plateau sometimes?”.
Good Lord. What if it is okay to plateau sometimes!?!
What if that plateau is beautiful? What if the air is clear, the view is lovely, the flora and fauna are diverse and inspiring, there is a mossy log to sit on, a stream of unpolluted water to splash on your tired face…. What if you just rest on that plateau for a little while and appreciate how far you’ve climbed. What if you don’t have to scramble up the next slope of scree and boulders, and dive through brush and undergrowth non-stop.
I won’t remember this every day. Some days — probably many days — the perfectionism will win, and I will force myself to scrabble my way farther and farther, not always remembering even to enjoy the invigoration of the climb, let alone the view spreading out all around me.
But today I gave myself permission. I gave myself permission… and it didn’t bring me the expected results. It brought something utterly different and perhaps better than what I expected, while I wasn’t grasping. So I will stay in this moment, on this plateau, for a little while yet. Long enough to appreciate how far I’ve come, and where I am.
I can remember so many times when I absolutely have gnashed my teeth at past plateaux — raging with frustration that I didn’t seem to be making any progress at that time, mortified by the certainty that my peers were far past that plateau. But if I love my climb, my winding path, my view, then instead of sneaking envying glances at someone else’s spot on their very different terrain, maybe I will feel myself more and more inclined to call out to them, and say “Come join me here for a little while, the view is beautiful!”
After all, what better way to describe what we do as performing artists: we invite people into our world, or our character’s, to see from our vantage point, to experience the world from our little plateau of the moment.
So, I will stay here for a little while longer, and find joy and loveliness in this plateau. Before too long I know I will be climbing again, but then I will carry this view with me.
AddieRose Forstman
7 July 2022
Glen Ellyn, IL