When You Leave The Stage

Most of my life I have performed. I’ve been a member of several bands. I have stage-managed several plays. I have been a stage hand. I have been a member of several flight crews for stage performances. I have participated in group art shows. I have had solo art shows. And, I have worked in the highly creative advertising industry.

I don’t tell you this to impress. I tell you this in hopes that you will understand that all of these activities bring on extreme highs and extreme lows. As you work toward the performance date there is excitement. You ride the high that comes with the uncertainty of whether or not this performance will be widely accepted by those who attend. Then the curtain comes down. You take a deep breath. It’s over. Everything you’ve worked so hard to bring to life, is over.

You repeat.

I can only speak to my own experiences, but I will tell you, for me, leaving the stage has always been a struggle. When you spend months, or years preparing for a performance—whatever that may be—and the audience responds with excitement and joy, it feeds you. It feeds you in ways most people will never understand. Then, in a blink of an eye. It’s gone. The show ends. You’re sitting by yourself.

You repeat.

Shows come and go, but the hardest thing I have ever done, is aged. As you age the stage gets smaller and smaller. You become more and more invisible. The experience and stories you’ve accumulated over the years are welcomed by few.

Leaving the stage is hard. Leaving the stage can be the beginning of something new. Leaving the stage is something we will all do. How gracefully we leave, is up to us.

Break a leg.