Well we did it. It's over, it's over, it's over.... We spent our last day as a cast together laboring, much like our first day together, except it is turning colder and the days are shorter. The seasons have changed. What's the take away from this experience, aside from sleep deprivation, intense emotional and physical exhaustion and a void that's left from the Tuesdays, Thursday and Sundays that will no longer be shared with our RENT community? I suppose that remains to be seen.
I was speaking to Adam (Mark) about the potential impact he will have in the lives of the students he is and will be teaching as Choral Director at DHS and how it is so much like planting seeds. He may never know that he saved someone's life or that his influence may just be the turning point for someone who is at the end of their rope or he may have to wait 20-30 years for his former students to report back to him that he was an monumental influence on them. You may never get to see the fruits of your labor. But you must have faith, no matter what, that what you are doing is going to make a huge difference in someone's life. Not unlike this recent journey we have all taken together.
We are fortunate that we have already impacted one another by lowering our guards, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with one another and truly becoming a community in every sense of the word. We are all so different, but we found common ground, love of performance, love of our art and most importantly, unconditional acceptance and love of one another.
Last night at dinner Jenny read an email from someone who had attended our show. It is obvious that we succeeded in planting seeds. Our message was heard, the barriers are breaking down. Awareness has been raised about issues and situations that have been locked in the closet and swept under the rug for far too long. I believe we made a difference and the seeds we have planted will germinate and spring forth during the seasons of love. Maybe not this year, perhaps not next year, but in it's own time, it will happen. We may not see it, but we must trust the process.
It is time for me to return to my somewhat mundane existence. Perhaps not mundane by some people's standards, but certainly mundane in comparison to the magnitude and fullness of living we have packed into the past two months together. I need to reconnect with my beautiful children. My son had tears in his eyes this morning, when he told me how much he had missed me this past week. It's time to remove my temporary tattoos, say goodbye to the tramp stamp and try in futility to remove the layers of mascara and eye liner that seems to accumulate and are impossible to get off. It is my intention to continue to live in the moment, but remember the love. We can't go back. We can't stay where we are today. We have to keep moving forward toward the next season of love.
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