Life is a Cabaret, Old Chum

Dear community friends,

"What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is cabaret, old chum, come to the cabaret."

This Saturday night I'm participating in one of my favorite traditions at . Following the penultimate performance of The Music Man, the audience will be treated to a delightful cabaret show. A number of cast members from the show have chosen our favorite Broadway show tunes to perform in a one-hour presentation.

While audience members enjoy hors d'oevres and beverages, we will be transforming our 1912 Iowa city back into this century, and getting ready to present songs from the likes of Mame, Company, South Pacific, Wicked, Pajama Game, and Anything Goes. We'll even have a sneak peek from our next production, Light in the Piazza, and more.

What I love best about the cabaret shows (traditionally occuring immediately following the final Saturday night performance of regular season productions), is the thrill shared by not only audience members who are getting a two-in-one deal that night (tickets are $10 extra, as the cabaret is a fundraiser for the Encore), but also the infectious joy of actors getting to perform beloved show tunes for an audience and each other. 

Often, you get to see players in the cabaret who may not have had the opportunity to be featured as solo singers. The atmosphere is informal, yet professional, and the cast and audience alike all have a wonderful time sharing snacks and songs in the theatre.

For my own song choice, I made the decision intuitively, as I do with nearly all of my decisions. What song speaks to my heart at this time, I wondered. Hmm. "Being Alive" from Company sprang to mind. The opening lyrics ponder the wisdom of opening your heart to another person:

"Someone to hold you too close, someone to hurt you too deep, someone to sit in your chair, and ruin your sleep, and make you aware of being alive."

"Someone to need you too much, someone to know you too well, someone to pull you up short, and put you through hell, and give you support for being alive."

This questioning could be akin to the challenges of parenting. Is being a parent too difficult? Is it too much work? Are there too many demands? How can I cope with the weighty 24/7 responsibility for another person's life? If I think only of the challenges and my fears, I can easily feel overwhelmed and wonder of the sanity of my decision to have children in the first place.

Fortunately, and optimistically, the lyrics later in the song reflect a fervent plea, inviting the joy and passion that can come only from opening yourself, heart and soul, to another being:

"Somebody...give me support for being alive, make me alive, make me alive, make me confused, mock me with praise, let me be used, vary my days, but alone is alone, not alive."

"Somebody crowd me with love, somebody force me to care, somebody make me come through, I'll always be there, as frightened as you, to help us survive being alive!"

If I'm going to be fully alive, I am better off taking risks, allowing myself to be vulnerable, being completely open to any and every experience that love and authentic connection and true relationship can bring. This includes being not only in the role of parent, but equally that of lover, friend, colleague, daughter, teacher, actor and director: any and every relationship I am in, and you are in.

So I ask you, friends, what does being alive fully mean to you? Do you take healthy risks in your relationships? Do you reach out and connect, and allow the chance of being hurt, in order to keep that emotional door open to the expansive joy that can enter your soul only if you let it in? Is it worth it to let go of fears and instead live and love passionately and courageously? I believe it is.

As safe as I could possibly play life, in an isolated, measured, cautious way, I wouldn't trade that lonely and restricted lifestyle for any amount of sloppy, chaotic, silly, unpredictable, funny, thrilling, frustrating, joyful living with my husband, children, friends, co-workers, extended family, and tribe I am attracting. I love you all, and love sharing life with you.

So, come on out to the cabaret, old chums! Share in the beauty of theater, the unpredictability of live performance, commune with friends old and new. Discover, explore, reach out, shed fears, and live life to the fullest. I invite all of you to celebrate together the joy of being alive.