At the start of rehearsal, the director asks us to follow her out of the room.

We go down the stairs and out on to the mezzanine. There, we stand in a circle.

She tells us to open a big, imaginary bag and to put all of our life baggage in to it. She says, Pick up that argument you had with your housemate and that laundry you haven’t done yet and that time you were embarrassed when you were five and put them all in the bag.

We do what she tells us. We laugh a little at first. Then we become more serious, earnestly stuffing our troubles into the bag.

When we’re finished she says, Now put the bag down and pick up this show. And let’s go.

And we all troop back to the rehearsal room, cradling the show in our hands.

*

*

^{A version of this post was sent by email on the 10th November 2018 as part of Internet Care Package – a weekly memoir project in the form of a newsletter. It also includes links to the best things I’ve found on the internet each week and occasional updates on my theatremaking. This blog is a select archive of those emails. Subscribe to get them right in your inbox.}

^{Like this? Share to Facebook | Tweet | Email link}

^{Want to help me make more things? Follow me on Instagram | Buy me a coffee | Buy my play}