A First Audience for Home
And a Giant Little Yellow Bird: I thought my joy was full... then I was surprised by a rather large sighting... you know, just in case I might miss it.
Note: I began this just after my play, Home, had it’s staged reading at the Missed The Boat Theatre New Works Festival, and finished it after I returned from Minnesota. I’d wanted to post this the same weekend but to be honest I was totally exhausted (for all good reasons). But then it gave me for time for reflection!
It’s Saturday two days after the performance of Home. I’m writing from the kitchen table of my hostess here in St. Paul, MN, (she’s also playing a character in Home). Today I will get to watch the final two plays presented for the festival.
Home opened the festival on Thursday night. I flew in on Monday to attend the last few rehearsals. It has been a wonderful ride. The opportunity to hear the actors play out what I’ve been working on for about 7 years really paid off and also proved to be fruitful for finalizing things that I needed to tweak but couldn’t until I heard the play in full throughout rehearsals.
And I could say you won’t believe it, but…
If you’ve been subscribing for a while you know about my yellow birds well by now. So maybe you will believe me when I tell you that there was another sighting in on the way to one of the final rehearsals. We had to change our rehearsal space last minute and were finding ourselves in a library space across town. As we approached an intersection and turned the corner… this is what I saw. Now I want you to imagine broad daylight with beautiful clear blue skies above.
What are the chances?! This was no “little” yellow bird.
I know that there are scientific studies (I’m told) that talk about when special signs are important to us, we subconsciously seek them out. So we will begin to see them more. But I seriously don’t think it applies this time. How many times have you come a across a giant yellow bird statue roughly half the size of the statue of liberty? We weren’t even supposed to go to that area originally.
Yes. I’m in the right place. God brought me here. Mom sees what’s going on and perhaps she’s giving a thumbs up. Encouragement … big encouragement. (I do hope you have something like that in your life, too.)
Then the performance came on Thursday night.
I’ve been working in the theatre for decades. Mostly as an actor. And I have participated in countless workshop readings of new plays and musicals, regional theatre etc. So when I tell you I am acquainted with nerves before hitting the boards, you should believe me.
I learned this week that “playwright nerves” are every bit as powerful - with a twist.
You just have to sit there and take it.
You have zero ability to alter, change, affect, or steer the performance happening in front of you. Your baby has gone off to college to live an independent life. So hopefully you reared her well. But you are now an empty nester. Those are some real nerves. Will she live? Will she thrive?
She lives!
She thrives.
Everything I prayed for, worked for, hoped for, came alive before my eyes and ears. The jokes worked. There were laughs in all the right and unexpected places (but in the right unexpected places.) People also cried. Of course the laughter I witnessed. The tears were shared with me in private conversations and shared experiences after the show.
My prayer for Home (a play about a family struggling to help their mother traverse the rocky landscape of Alzheimer’s - though ALZ is never mentioned in the play… but you know. You know.) was that it would break hearts open, help you feel seen and heard, and lift the spirit encouraging you to press on amidst long term familial conflict that isn’t solved with a pat on the back with a pithy maxim like “tomorrow is another day.” Home is a prayer. A prayer for conversion and deliverance of the personal demons that harass us from long and deep familial conflict.
Before the performance, the artistic director of Missed the Boat Theatre, Mary Shaffer, introduced Home by saying, “The death of someone we love deeply but who has also hurt us deeply is a great reckoning; with our loved ones, with ourselves, and ultimately with God.”
So beautifully articulated. One of the comments that several audience members said to me, completley separate from one another, was “this play is so real.” Heaven to my ears and heart. So humbling.
The most important reason for me to write anything (and especially this play), is to encourage you; to give you experience of great love, even at the cost of reviewing your personal walk through a dark valley all your own. If I know one thing, I know the play will reassure you that you are seen. You are known. The road to forgiveness can be a real mess. But it can come - even at the eleventh hour. It is never too late for forgiveness. It is never too late to find home.
So what’s next for Home?
Production. Unless I am surprised by the unexpected, it probably won’t happen until ’27. We’ll see. There are now funds to raise and plans to make. But you know I’ll keep you posted.
Thanks for coming along with me on this journey.
“You understand explosions, eh? Blasts of light and color. From the deep abyss of darkness, yes? Then? (He silently gestures with both hands a small “blast”.) What has been in the darkness, the darkness of our thoughts, our desires, our pain… they will, they must, come to light. Nothing will be left in secret.” – From the play, Home.
Your baby is off to college! What an apt analogy. I am so ridiculously proud of you, proud to know you, and count you as my friend. Keep creating beauty and truth my friend. We need that so much right now.