Something Wicked This Way Comes

Thoughts of ghouls and ghosts and all things nasty come to mind as we head through the month of October and Halloween approaches. Opinions on this phenomenon are divided and although I celebrated the occasion as a child, with simple apple bobbing, buns on strings and the odd Meg and Mog story, today’s marking of the 31st of this month seems to have far more of the macabre and overtly horrific about it. Consequently as a parent, I didn’t let my children take part in the practice of Trick or Treat - something that they didn’t thank me for.

I didn’t feel comfortable about the process, how it goes against the message we instil of not talking to strangers and instead, because it’s Halloween and they are dressed in a scary mask they can knock on anyone’s door to demand a sugar fix. Aside from the stranger danger and how intimidated the random resident might feel on their doorstep, no one needs an entire bucket full of sweets to devour. I also question the proliferation of frankly disturbing masks, costumes and props that find their way into high street stores in the lead up to Halloween and wonder what young children make of such images around them. It certainly can’t help their bedtime routine.

In case you are reading this thinking I am just a party pooper, my children didn’t miss out entirely and I recall a few Halloween parties attended with friends or family. An image of my daughter in a witch’s hat and purple tutu skirt whilst my son wore a Dracula cape comes to mind and of course, casting spells in the style of Harry Potter was always a popular past time. Such days are a distant memory now and my children may be found at a Halloween gig at a pub or watching a scary movie screening whilst I am at home, cradling a mug of hot chocolate.

My wickedness is currently confined to playing the role of the evil fairy in my drama group’s annual pantomime. Within that I find that I am being thwarted by a subtle serpent. The symptoms of ageing, the menopausal Medusa, slithering in to sabotage my performance. Each week I find myself battling with confidence issues, memory loss and an ongoing problem with my foot that causes a fair amount of pain as I try to dance. Working on my confidence to convince myself that I can actually manage the part I have been given, takes a fair amount of effort. This week I am trying to get some of the lines into my head, as the performances draw nearer, but this is no easy task when on a daily basis I can walk into a room and forget why I went there and I am increasingly aware that I can stop mid-sentence as my brain plays a somersaulting game, trying to find the word that I need next. Whilst this is indeed a concern, I am working on it and making adjustments to be able to succeed by starting the whole memorising task earlier than I usually do and keeping my fingers crossed for that strategy to work.

The thing that I am finding most difficult is the pain and discomfort with my foot and it saddens me, after dancing in some shape or form since the age of three, that dance is proving problematic. Ironically the issues are typical for a dancer so it is even more poignant that I feel my dancing shoes may soon have to be hung up. Throughout my life, whatever size or shape I became at different points, dancing has been my release. A way to forget about everything else for a while and to let my mind focus upon the movement, the joy of the expression and the fun of being part of a performance- whether alone or in a group.

Dance has always come naturally to me, to move in time with the beat, to flow from one part of a routine to the next, to extend an arm line with poise and a smile, were all aspects I learnt early on and are now just second nature. My mind is still willing and imagines me succeeding in the spotlight but the body is finding it hard to deliver the goods these days. Then, of course, that wicked snake slithers in to strike a confidence blow or a lapse in memory and that which I had always thought was a strength of mine, begins to crumble.

My pointe shoes are wrapped up in a dusty box in a corner of the attic, for pointe work is a young girl’s game and I never quite had the whole slimline package for that. But I do not want to wrap up all my dance shoes yet. I have noticed the work of this evil ageing process but I am not ready to surrender to it yet. I am determined to keep dancing, with my painkillers and massage techniques at the ready for the recovery process.

I have heard that something wicked this way comes but she’s ready to rock an evil fairy costume and to kick ass! With a high kick and a pirouette, obviously.

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Performing at the Commonwealth Institute, April 1975

Curtain Call

So this week sees me taking part in what has become an annual ritual since 2005: performing in a pantomime as part of my local community drama group. As always, the week is both exciting and stressful as it’s the culmination of many months work, the moment of truth in remembering your lines and then the feeling of excitement as you share the buzz of performing with a group of people that you’ve come to rely on. Looking back over the years, I’ve played many parts from villain to leading lady, chorus line and many variations in between. I’ve never really minded what part I’ve played as the joy for me has been to be part of the whole, and at the end of the day the whole show is the important thing.

This year, I’m playing half of a comic duo which has been great fun; working on timing, choreographing slapstick and funny business and helping each other to deliver punchlines. It’s certainly proved a positive distraction from some of the stresses of both of our working lives and doesn’t everyone need an outlet of some sort to escape their mundane and day-to-day?

As we’ve got to the most important rehearsals of the run, the group has pulled together to sort all the little jobs that need doing when putting on a show, from fixing props to sorting face paints and ordering refreshments for the intervals and many, many more. Within this busy atmosphere and whilst juggling thoughts of all the tasks I need to tick off during show week, as the group producer, I find myself losing my way with my own performance. Standing on stage in the spotlight, waiting for the curtain to open, I had an overwhelming moment of feeling that I wouldn’t be able to do what was required, that I would not be able to put all the good work from rehearsals into practice. This year has certainly been a roller coaster of emotions and now, as I reach the week that I’m usually so in control of, I find myself feeling a sort of stage fright that I haven’t faced before.

In an early blog, “Confined by my Cage of Confidence,” I began to confront some of my self-esteem issues. In the last month, I have found myself returning to these. Confidence is a fragile commodity with many facets, much like a precious crystal. There are moments when I know that I shine and this year I have made many treasured memories where this has been true and I look to all like I’m full of confidence and soaring high. Of course the flip side has been moments of inhabiting low places, when I can feel alone even in a crowded room. This week I got some blood test results back which confirmed that my anaemia has become an issue again, which has at least explained some difficulties that I have had. I understand that low mood is attached to anaemia and the results certainly provide a reason for the dizziness and fainting that I have had this month. Perhaps then, it is no surprise that I feel that my confidence is eroding currently?

So where do we go from here? Well you have to keep moving forward don’t you? Sometimes that feels like wading in the shifting sands left at low tide. Other days, a smile or a simple act of kindness touches your soul, makes a connection and gives you the ability to stride forward at a pace that has eluded you for days. The difference with this crisis of confidence, in comparison to my last, is that I am recognising it as such and I have a network of support that I am able to call on. We are heading towards the end of this year and I know that the next year holds an uncertain path for me. The unknown can cast a fearful shadow upon the mind. I am avoiding the shadows by being honest with myself and my support network. This does mean that there have been some tearful conversations but if there’s one thing I have learnt over the last three years working in the field of Special Educational Needs, it is that there is nothing wrong with having a little cry. A tearful conversation with my husband or a friend that I trust has actually been therapeutic and who knew just how powerful a hug could be?

I have a light ahead of me and each day, I feel that I am moving towards it. When someone notices that you’re stuck or are losing your way and stops to support you, there is much to be thankful for. You owe it to them and yourself to dust yourself down and find the strength to face the next obstacle in your way.

Returning to my moment in the spotlight, I do what a lot of performers do and park the thoughts of doubt to step forward as my character. I do all the silly things that happen in a pantomime and know that my fellow cast will be there to support me and will be giving their best too for every scene. I’ve worked too hard to step off the stage now and the old adage of ‘the show must go on’ is certainly a motivating force. Over the years, as a group we have helped each other, particularly when we have known that individuals have been facing difficult times. We have laughed and cried together and pulled a performance out of the bag, sometimes against the odds. Those in the group in the year I reference in “Kind Hearts and Karaoke” know only too well the extent to which that was true.

So, with my husband backing me up, as always, and my friends providing a safety net that I know I only need to ask for, I’m telling myself that I can do this. I’m facing the show week ahead and with deep breaths, I’m ready for my curtain call.

Kind Hearts and Karaoke

The seeds of friendship can be found in the most unlikely places and, when nurtured well, can grow into a thing of beauty, strength and compassion. Back in our playground days, we fell in and out of friendship frequently according to who wanted to join in the latest game or craze with us: French skipping with the athletic girls, swinging clackers, joining in bundles on the playing field or racing to complete a Rubik’s cube. The rules of friendship were somewhat blurred at the time and on the whole, falling out one day could be repaired and forgotten about by the end of the week. Sometimes, amongst all this you might find a best friend and a few people kept these for a long time – perhaps even counting a playground pal amongst their adult circle of friends.

My experience has been that I have a couple of friends that were made at secondary school or university who I keep in touch with and others who have become friends through work circles. However, it is my hobby which has brought me to a place of developing friendships that run a little deeper. A weekly drama group which combines a collection of people of different ages and backgrounds in a common goal to rehearse, perform and support each other in their hobby. Something about the process of drama is inspirational. People who would never normally meet in other social circles, cross-generational and with all different talents working together for the common goal of putting on a show. I’ve seen people go from shy, anxious individuals perhaps coming along to help out backstage, to standing proudly in a spotlight giving everything they have to their performance, their self-confidence soaring.

Friends I have made through this group have been there for me through personal tragedy, difficult days at work and stressful situations as well as being part of celebrations, fun times and achievements. Perhaps there is something about being part of a creative process together that helps the social bonding – sharing the workload involved in putting on a show, learning your lines and moves together and standing as one as a cast on stage to receive the audience response. It is true that friendships have grown here over the last decade or so and the group is such that we both work and play together – choosing to meet up outside the constraints of weekly rehearsals, with karaoke featuring often as an opportunity for a good laugh as we sing, dance and – let’s be honest – drink together.

Within the long and complex process of putting on a show, we all have different strengths and weaknesses but I have been touched by the small acts of kindness shown to one another to help out with a task, go over a scene where someone may be struggling and mostly in valuing the efforts that each of us are making. In fact, it is at drama that I was inspired by the kindest lady I have had the privilege to know. A gentler, more unassuming person you would be hard pushed to find and the joy of seeing her go from a timid chorus member to commanding the stage dancing with a feather boa to ‘Hey, Big Spender’ is a memory I shall treasure forever.

To look back on this highlight is to confront thoughts of her untimely passing just 4 days before she was due to join us on stage for our annual pantomime. A devastating blow to the group to lose such a core part of the group and such a special lady, it was a remarkable measure of the strength of the group working together to support each other in a way we never felt possible. The old adage is that the show must go on, and indeed her family were adamant that the group should do exactly that, but they were the hardest performances we have ever done.

The group has moved on in many ways since, with new members who never had the opportunity to know her, taking centre stage. This is rightly so, as a group is more than any one individual part of it and the nature of this type of group is that it changes and develops with each new venture that it begins. Though, the best bits of her personality linger with those of us who shared a stage with her and there are times when I have felt that she has joined us back there – who knows?

So yes, I lost a special friend and I discovered depths of character amongst other friends in dealing with this. This is why the friendship I refer to has a strength and meaning beyond that of those playground past times. But by referring to this dark episode, I don’t mean to belittle the contribution that others have made to my life – others who have walked into my group and life since this time. For a friend is not measured by the length of time that they have stood by your side but rather by the impact they have had upon you. Some friends tread a path together tentatively, gradually growing in their shared experiences to find themselves in a place where they realise just quite how much they need each other. Some friends have a presence that’s more immediate, taking you by surprise in how quickly you find yourself seeking their opinions, valuing their advice and noticing how aspects of your life are better for having known them.

It all comes down to kindness – in a busy world where everyone has to be somewhere, meeting a deadline, sorting out a list of chores and responsibilities, it can feel as if everyone is caught up in their own selfish endeavours. So when you find someone who can put that on hold, even for a moment to do something for another person, show a little kindness of heart, then that’s worth celebrating. I am very lucky to have found several people who are happy to share their kind hearts and karaoke evenings with me.