In the Wings

Lingering in the wings before a performance - the calm before the storm. A time of focus, of entering into a world. Syncing with one powerful wavelength, one common thread. Reveling in the anticipation that feels strangely like a dirty secret about to be revealed.

My deep centering breath pulls in dark smells of wet wood, hazy fog, musty dust, and lingering hints of citrus cleaner.

I exhale and lay on my back, as I wrap my heart around what I know. The floor is cool and firm and familiar under my shoulder blades. My gaze drifts to the ceiling.

On my side of the curtain, warm lights peer down through colored gels in a purple haze. They illuminate a suspended cloud of sawdust swirling in the light stream, ready to welcome the audience into our circus of theatrics. Darkness melts to the sides of the stage, where I am. Moody and musing, familiarizing myself with movement.

My body pops, pulls, and cracks in all the usual places I’ve learned to deal with. It is my one tool in this whole realm of art. I must know thoroughly how to use it. I must be aware of how much I can abuse it. I drop my head heavily, feel the pull in my legs, the release in my back. I push my feet into the floor and the joints in my right foot pop more times than the joints in my left. I remember so well how each bit of me moves. And I feel so practiced at being practiced. For this is what I do.

Music bleeds mutely through the curtain as I mind my own business. That thick velvet barrier filters the noisy buzz, so only muffled murmurs reach my ears - like shards of glass melting into dust as they burst through a force field. A white noise for my meditation. I am safe from jarring chatter. I am wrapped in heavy darkness. I am stilled by a penetrating sensation of quietness.

My focus aligns like beads on a string, like vertebrae on a spine. Oh the calmness behind this heavy drape, where only simple black lights illuminate the forest of fly rails in a series of accidental artful shadows.

This is where I feel the subtle electricity in the depths of my core. An intimate knowing that no one else can feel. That makes time stand still, and makes me feel present, and fully know how much I love what I do. How important it is. How hard I know I’ll work for it. How I’ll never stop pushing and pursuing and growing and doing.

Breathe it in.

Drink it in.

Savor the pieces.

Swallow it whole.

Bask in the warmth.

Relish in the chills.

Sync with the jitters.

Ride on the rush.

Fall into the passion.

“Places please.”

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