“The limit does not exist.”
I’m sitting in the last row of a very small community theatre. Actually, it’s a retrofitted abandoned retail space with a very shallow stage and room for about 125 seats. All 125 of these seats are filled once again as the lights go down and the curtain is raised.
Today’s performance? “Mean Girls”, the musical adaptation of the 2004 hit movie. The ensemble is a collection of high school and recent high school grads faithfully bringing the script and songs to life in the cramped space the theatre group calls home.
I’m always inspired watching these kids perform. No fancy stage, no fancy stage props. They show up, always well rehearsed and prepared, and when the curtain rises they become their characters and just give it their all.
I can’t imagine putting yourself in a more vulnerable position, to willingly stand and perform before family, friends, and strangers with no place to run or hide.
Maybe it’s the innocence of their youth. Maybe they’re still filled with a sense of possibility and wonder. Maybe life has yet to convince them of the pitfalls often associated with vulnerability, of putting yourself at risk of exposing your own imperfections in a world more than happy to criticize and exploit them.
Or maybe they just don’t care.
There is a tremendous power in detachment, when you’re willing to simply show up and give your best and not worry if your best is good enough for others.
Because your best is good enough for you.
Photo by Eduardo Pastor on Unsplash
Peter Mis LivingHalfFull.com 