Casting Call…Dance Or Exit Stage Left?

I sit alone in the early morning hours before the world outside beckons the world inside to take the stage for the quick tempo dance that is our daily performance. Windows all around me atop this tower in the sky I now call home frame mobile snapshots of a city already awake and attuned to its unique sounds. The music of four-wheeled instruments rushing to and fro across the intersecting keyboards down below rise seventeen stories to enter my glass home in the sky. I’m not ready to join the city’s chorus, preferring to enjoy my morning soliloquy in my mind’s auditorium, thoughts rhythmically swaying, picking up the tempo and nearly tumbling into each other before slowing and finding my own unique rhythm, an interpretative dance meant only for me.

In life as in dance, timing is everything.


Years have played out where I have accepted both leading roles and bit parts in the various performances that make up my life’s program. At times I’ve been the understudy, others I’ve been the one behind the scenes prepping costumes to ensure not a stitch is out of place. Butterflies in my own stomach as much as those taking the stage. I’ve rushed to my seat amid the sea of red velvet backs, already having pre-selected the one to give me the best vantage point as the lights dim and the curtains begin to sway in a dance all their own. As my loved ones take the stage ready to share their passion and dedication with the world, I catch my breath and will my body to remain seated. I urge my mind to quiet the yearning to take the stage though not alongside them…instead I wish to shadow them, softly whispering words of encouragement, reminding them to forget the audience and the bright lights and simply enjoy the dance.

That is truly what it’s all about after all. After the curtains close and the auditorium is empty once again, we are left with a stage all to ourselves. We choose our next role. Our next performance is up to us. We will be our own critic. When the moment arrives, it will be up to us to choose whether we step into the spotlight or retreat from its heated glare.

My hands don’t hold the program revealing my future act and neither do yours. Often I find myself on an unfamiliar stage thrust into a role for which I never auditioned and think…why here, why now? Why has it taken me forty years to find my passion for writing? Why now and not after a few more acts, possibly when my children are older and I have more time? Why haven’t I always truly listened to the music and enjoyed the performance instead of rushing through it already envisioning a future act? Why during the most trying moments in my past when I longed to exit stage left did I remain on that stage?

Why have you?

15 thoughts on “Casting Call…Dance Or Exit Stage Left?

  1. A really beautiful post. Just new to blogging and I’m enjoying discovering others unique talents. Beautiful song as well. Thank you!


  2. Your post really resonated with me. Like you, I am a stubborn one and sometimes life has to hit me over the head to make me change or participate in something new. I’ve been dragging my feet about making a job change for 3 years and I a finally going to take the leap and do it. It is liberating. I’m finally leaving the stage and exiting left. Great post as always.


  3. “Our next performance is up to us . . .” there’s no truer statement. And yet, there’s such a thing as stage fright. I typically work better behind the scenes, behind a closed curtain. The introvert in me shys away from the spotlight.
    I’m constantly telling myself, “not now . . . later.”


    • I think we’ve all experienced stage fright at some point in our lives…some of us more than others. I go back and forth, sometimes comfortable in the spotlight and other times preferring the comfort of being behind the scenes.


  4. Pingback: Casting Call...Dance Or Exit Stage Left? | The ...

  5. Such a great metaphor! I particularly relate to ‘why haven’t I truly listened to the music? I have also come to writing in my 40s and it must surely be the right time. Or maybe just that blogging exists has helped so many writers find their voice. Either way, I’m glad you did.


      • I think there is much to be said for being older and wiser when we start blogging. I started a year ago at 46 years young. I would hate to read what rubbish I might have spouted at 20. 🙂


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