Theatre is the correct spelling

I just had to title this blog post with that smarmy title because I feel strongly about the spelling of this word. And I am in England so there.

I am ever so grateful that we took this extra day in Stratford Upon Avon (I love that name). It was a good day. It was a day of feeling more connected to things that I love and that have truly come to define me. I got a message from a friend back in Conifer about a new theatre that they are putting together for the youth of our community and the help they need to pull the set together in time for their imminent opening. In her email plea for help she mentioned the good she has seen for her son Ben during his work in the theatre. This got me to thinking (as if I have not done enough of that the past few days) and I am so grateful for the theatre in my life. I tried to think of what I would be if I had not discovered the theatre at a relatively young age. I was stunned at the fear that filled my entire being at the mere thought of not having the theatre as part of my foundation. Wow. I am so tied to this medium. I owe so much of what I am and what I believe and what I know to the theatre itself and to the works created for the stage. Of course, Shakespeare is such a deep part of this, he not only is part of the theatre, he gave me a love, appreciation, and understanding of words that give my life such meaning and wealth. Rich. That is the word that comes to mind. My life would still have purpose and I would still have belief and many other blessings if I did not have the theatre, but I would not have the depth of richness that fills my soul and gives me wings. And makes me want to inspire others to find their wings as well.

At the core of this all, is still Shakespeare. I know that there are many thoughts and theories about him and his works and whether or not he even wrote the blasted plays and such but I don't care. I am a purist and I am not sorry to be so. I have studied the theories, tasted them and they are not enough to sway me. And being in this place and seeing Richard II performed as part of the RSC has only cemented it all for me. This has been the experience of a lifetime and I am so very blessed to have been given the opportunity to discover Shakespeare while in my youth and to grow up with his words ringing in my ears and heart. And to offer a love of him to one of my children. Oh how I am missing Michayla while I am on this trip. She would have loved this so much. And tonight, I had the perfect spooky set up in the lonely church yard cemetery that she would have eaten up on every level. I look forward to the day when I can return here with her and offer this all to her. She will feel it as deeply as I do.

As we took a boat trip up the Avon today and came up on the Trinity church it occurred to me that when Shakespeare demanded that he be buried so deeply beneath the altar with his curse resting on the slab that covered his body he was feeling great insecurities. He was concerned about being just tossed out with the rubbish, in the bonfire, like everybody else. He became so real to me in that moment. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived and he still lived in fear of being forgotten. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived but he was still a man. He was still sometimes a frightened little boy. He just knew how to express his fears better than most. We all have a way that is ours to express ourselves. A way better than most. We all need to make the most of it. That is what hit me at the end of the day as I sat meditating on a bench under the spire of the Trinity and a full autumn moon with mice rustling through the leaves at my feet and a spider making her web in the bench arm beside me and a wind moaning low in the trees and the doves cooing softly from their perch on the church eaves. I have a voice. I have a way that God wants me to express myself and bring aid and comfort to the few that he puts in my path. I also have the strength to do what God has and will ask of me. And so do you.