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I fight. I have a tendency to fight. Fight to make things happen. Fight to keep doing. Fight to get better, to raise the bar, to exceed myself, to never ever stop. I fight fatigue and I pretend it isn’t real. I fight the memory that tells me I know what’s going on. I fight the part of me that fucking knows better. Occasionally in moments of clarity – I remember it’s not always a fight. Sometimes it’s a dance, sometimes a ballad, sometimes a party and sometimes it’s a sleep. I had to remind myself this week that it’s OK to be tired. I’ve been working pretty much non-stop since Febuary and it’s ok that I’m tired. While I may not have had the busiest year on paper I’ve had.. I forget the other stuff.. the invisible stuff that makes you tired. The never, ever not thinking about the show, the next show, the last show, the show that might work there or could happen here. The thinking about the actors, the students, the audience, the industry, the funding bodies, the other ways to find money or make money, the marketing, the rent, the phone bill, the money we all too fleetingly have, the lovers we forget to acquire.. the love we forget to give.
This sounds like a whinge. It isn’t. I love my life. I love what I do. I love the people I do it with.. I guess I am writing this to remind myself that I’m allowed to take a break and tell you, the very few who read this that – that taking a break isn’t quitting and it certainly isn’t failure. It’s the space to dream. It’s the space to see yourself and know where you’ve been and what you’ve done. It’s the place to listen to your voice again and see what it says NOW.. not before this bout of crazy-make-it-work-life-art-marathon. It’s the space to literally recharge so you can fight to get better, to raise the bar, to exceed yourself – to take over the world. The phoenix turns to ash, time and time again.. returning to burn a light for the world like no other.
I love you, most likely..
x