Coping with (in)fertility is hard. Really, really hard. Other than screaming and crying and swearing, which doesn’t often go down well with people other than the husband, I’ve developed some strategies that I default to when the going is particularly tough. One is theatre.
I’ve always loved, loved, LOVED theatre. I love the lights, the smell, the gust of chilly air when the safety curtain rises. I love the fact that every night is different, that the cast can hear the audience reaction and I love it that something could go wrong and the show, literally, must go on. Live theatre is breathtakingly beautiful. When I turned 22, I finally had the guts to try it out for myself and I joined a local theatre company. I thought I’d puke with sheer nervousness the first time I stepped on stage (in My Fair Lady). Yet that proverbial bug bit my ass that very night and from that second, where the audience cheered and stood up (let’s be honest, not for me – I was hidden at the back, to the utter amusement of my husband…), I was hooked.
It was 4 years before I got the guts to audition to actually speak on stage. Now, 21 leading roles later, ranging from the traditional Rodgers and Hammerstein leading lady to playing 11 characters in Godber’s Shakers, theatre really is woven into me. Rehearsals and show weeks (particularly) have been some of the brightest and staggeringly wonderful times I have ever experienced. Theatre has dragged me through life and, as if to reciprocate, good ol’ Life has given me some experiences to pull on when I need to ace a crying scene (yep, thanks, Life…). But where else offers ultimate escape? You become someone else. It’s liberating, daaaaahling. (It actually is.)
But my favourite musical ever is not the singy-dancy-smiley sort. It drops the f-bomb in most songs and leaves you with your jaw on the floor at some of the subject content, including racism, oral sex and schadenfreude…all told by puppets and their controllers. Not one to take your Grandma to, really. It’s almost a parody of all musicals; the genius of the writers behind it is unparalleled, for me. Avenue Q is often known as ‘the musical for people who hate musicals’ and I urge you, if you haven’t seen it, go – even if the idea of seeing a musical makes you want to hurl repeatedly.
Sometimes a line pops out to me in a song, even ones I’ve heard hundreds of times. But meaningful lyrics aren’t really expected from a musical containing songs about how loud sex is absolutely socially acceptable, as well as one dedicated entirely to the usage of the world wide web for… well, viewing porn.
Despite this, one song did. And when I’m coming home from the clinic, or having a terrible, terrible day where I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying, I play this. Yes, it’s supposed to be humorous, yet I find it comforting.
I leave you with just some of the lyrics. There’s a link below should you wish to hear it. 🙂
Everyone’s a little bit unsatisfied,
Everyone goes round a little empty inside.
Take a breath, look around, swallow your pride,
Nothing lasts, life goes on, full of surprises,
You’ll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes.
You’re going to have to make a few compromises,
But only for now!
For now we’re healthy, for now we’re employed.
For now we’re happy, if not overjoyed.
And we’ll accept the things we cannot avoid,
But only for now!
For now there’s life, for now there’s love,
For now there’s work, for now there’s happiness.
For now discomfort, for now there’s friendship.
For now, only for now.
Don’t stress, relax, let life roll off your backs,
Except for death and paying taxes,
Everything is life is only for now.
Each time you smile, it’ll only last a while.
Life may be scary, but it’s only temporary.
Everything in life is only for now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJdcROXeaWc – Go see it 🙂