Tradition

It fills me with utter joy to know that right now I am not a part of Arena Theater's Strike of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Beyond this room, there are many people who, together, are celebrating and saying goodbye to 7 intense weeks of work on a play. I did so for four years and have now seen four strikes come and go in my time out of school. For some reason, knowing that there is something in the space - some vivacity - that sustains the tradition of strike and has nothing to do with me is comforting beyond words. The work that happens in that place - that wonderful, flawed place - is compelling enough to keep people coming back, greeting plays, and then saying goodbye to them. Fantastic.

I thought that it must have been abnormal while I was there. I thought that I was unusually blessed to encounter such a group of people at such a time in my life so as to offer me such joy. Now I realize that Arena Theater is the unusually blessed one. It continues to receive and send out wonderfully beautiful people, and so, the glorious traditions - Strike, Workout Christmas, et al. - continue. I am not unique to the place, and this thought, of sharing the beauty of the space and its traditions with so many people - past, current, and those to come - is the true blessing that falls on this side of Arena Theater.

I spent so much time last year thinking about how I was missing out on so much; the community, the work of a place, parties, friends; and I spent so little time thinking about how blessed I was to have been commissioned from such a place to "serve the Lord with gladness and singleness of heart." The time I spent wallowing in my distance from the space and its work was time that I could have spent celebrating the common experience that I have with so many beautiful people. Now I know. Now I see. Now I, again, rejoice with those who rejoice.