Thursday 1 May 2014

The Power Of One

Tonight I had the privilege of going to see One, by Jaye Kearney at Stockton Arc.

Normally for a show like this I try to write something as a little review, but tonight I find myself not at a loss for words, but I simply don't want to do it; I want to keep it for myself and cherish its message.  It feels ever so selfish!

And yet here I sit in my comfy, enveloping armchair in my PJ's, with the TV on in the background (but on silent so I can concentrate on this), the remotes all within reach, a drink beside me and my book to hand.  And I'm writing despite myself.

I have become a creature of habit for the most part, with some unusual comfort-zone-annihilating moments that I will cherish until my last breath, but a creature of habit nonetheless.  I like this.  I like coming home to peace after a long day at work knowing I can sit and read, bake a cake, wrap myself in a duvet and block out the world, watch Sherlock again(!), crochet blankets and Christmas decorations, lounge for two hours in the bath, sing, or any combination of the above without having to think about what anyone else wants or needs.

Being single is a mixed bag of blessings, and desires that often feel entirely out of reach.

I don't like feeling lonely, but being single doesn't mean I hold the monopoly on that.  I felt more lonely while I was married than I ever have since I left ten years ago.  Being single also doesn't mean I sit here and mope the whole time or cry into a vat of gin while trying to shove a kilo of chocolate down my throat in record time (although the chocolate thing may need to be my weekend challenge just for fun!).  I live my life more now than I ever dared to attempt when I was younger.  Perhaps it's down to the inevitable passing of the years, maybe my increased confidence, or even my inability to give a crap what other people think anymore.  Most likely it's a combination of all of the above.

I've had relationships in the last ten years, but it takes such a lot for me to trust people that when I do let someone in he has to be special.  Very special. It took me 38 years to trust myself, but it doesn't feel the same when I hold my own hand or try to hug myself, so I'm learning to let down my guard a little more, then a touch more, just so someone has a fighting chance of breaking through my armour.  It's not that I don't want to let people in.  It's self preservation.

Tonight's show was less a lightbulb moment and more of a reminder of the person I am and the person I want to remain... no, that's no quite right; I want to keep growing, finding new sides to myself I didn't know existed, challenge my inhibitions and learn more and more about myself as I grow older.  Learn about myself in the way a new partner might, perhaps. Be pleasantly surprised with tiny, positive changes and discover that I like things I thought I hated (but not mushrooms, I will always hate mushrooms), and realise one day that I can look in the mirror and not find fault before I leave the house.  Maybe I'll even buy myself an obscenely huge bouquet of flowers just because I love who I am and I deserve to feel special sometimes.

This may all sound like it has nothing to do with the show I enjoyed so much tonight, but it has everything to do with it.  I don't want to sit here and tell you what happened, what made us laugh, what almost made me cry, what made me nod in agreement with the words being spoken.  I would never want to spoil that little but important journey for anyone else going to see it, that's not my style.

One, for me, was a feeling.  It was a reminder to be kind to myself.  It was a nod and smile to everything that has brought me to where I am now in my comfy chair surrounded by my remotes and half finished crochet projects.  It was a poke in the ribs that reminded me I can be me, with no apologies to make to anyone.

One is lovely.  It's sincere and heartwarming.  It's funny and sad. It's delightful.  It's a little gem.  Jaye Kearney treats her audience to an honest performance, and she connects almost immediately and to such a degree that I felt like she was only talking to me.

One is relieved she didn't miss One, because One has given One a good ole kick up the backside and reminded One that she's just fine, thank you very much!


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