Give My Regrets to Broadway

A few months ago, someone asked a question for which I had no answer. “What do you do to play?”

Excuse me. Play?

I mean, I have hobbies. I like reading. Watching movies. Going for walks when the weather’s nice. I enjoy writing, of course. You already know about my Wordle habit. But I wouldn’t call any of those things “play.” I don’t do sports. Most board games bore me. I don’t see my grandkids often enough to be pulled into their play much.

“Oh my gosh,” I thought. “I have no idea how to play!”

Then I received an email. The Glesby Centre was hosting a “Broadway Bootcamp” for youth over spring break, led by StudioWorks Academy in Winnipeg. They generously offered an evening session to Prairie Players members, free of charge. Was I interested? Sure, why not? Sign me up. Maybe I’ll get a blog post out of it.

As almost always happens, I began dragging my heels as the evening approached. Why did I say I’d attend this thing? Freezing rain was falling. My couch was calling. Now I had to go because I’d coerced my friend Vicki into joining me and I couldn’t risk ticking her off by not showing up.

In the first thirty seconds, though, I felt glad I’d gone. If nothing else, I got to see some faces I had not seen—or seen only in passing—for over two years. We gathered on the stage in our socks to protect the floor from slush and mud. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I last felt that painted platform under my feet. Twenty minutes in, I realized something else.

I was playing!

Our two young leaders taught us some fun warm-up games that involved concentration, coordination, and tons of laughter. Silliness reigned as they forced us to make split-second, life-altering decisions, such as whether to “whiz” or “whoosh” one another, whether to hop over an imaginary bowling ball or yell “MINE!” and pick it up. We practiced rhythm and attentiveness in a game called “Big Booty.” We called each other out while chanting “IN. THE. SOUP.”

Well, I guess you had to be there.

We participated in some relaxation and exploration exercises. We moved our bodies. Breathed deeply. Made weird noises. Practiced our improv skills. Activities that would feel like torture to others, the way playing basketball or sitting through a football game feels to me.

Most of all, we laughed and enjoyed each other. I really don’t know how tough the last two years have been on these friends—what hardships or losses they’ve faced, what personal struggles they may have overcome. But I do know my own, and it’s fair to assume our challenges are universal. Hearing their laughter and seeing their smiles, even though some remained behind masks, brought healing in and of itself.

I had forgotten how much fun theater games can be. Turns out I do know how to play, and children are not the only ones who need to.

At my age, it’s becoming increasingly unrealistic to think I will ever get to SEE a Broadway play, let alone perform in one. I can live with that. I just hope I’m never too old to gather with like-minded people who truly enjoy this avenue of expression, personal growth, and fun.

How do YOU play?

“A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired.” (Proverbs 17:22 The Message)