Hi. Hello. I’m Melissa. But you probably already know that.
My speaking patterns are pretty Middletonian tonight. Thanks, Mr. Eno.
But seriously, my mind is still caught in the patterns of the play I’m currently on tech crew for: Middletown by Will Eno. It’s a beautiful piece, full of explorations of life and deep meanings that make me tilt my head to one side contemplatively somewhere or other every night.
If you’ve never been on a tech crew, never been part of a cast, then I don’t expect you to understand the madness of tech week. Sure, it’s great and all. Great and utterly exhausting. It’s madness, and exhaustion, and frustration, and elation, and it all comes together on opening night.
Tonight was opening night.
Coming into this show, I was incredibly nervous. After all, I am the kind of person who likes to know exactly what she’s doing and exactly how she’s doing it so that there is very little risk of looking like an idiot. I was talking with a friend tonight and this proverb came up:
“Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent,
and discerning if they hold their tongues.”
Proverbs 17:28 (NIV)
But it’s hard to keep silent as a sound designer. The goal is kind of to…you know…make sounds. And I had never sound designed and I had no idea what I was doing or how I was going to do it. It was risky.
Sometimes, though, you get assigned a job and you know it’s going to grow you and so you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
I said, “Okay.”
The long and short of the story is that I didn’t fail miserably, and I have fallen madly in love with bluegrass music. In fact, the hardest part of my job is probably having to not dance during all the transition music. I have to sit still and wait for the cue to fade the music out and that is so hard!
I really do love this show.
I love the thoughts Mr. Eno has to express.
For the past three nights, there has been one line per night that has reached out and entwined itself around my soul. And by entwined, I mean that it resonates so deeply that it kind of hurts a little bit. It hurts for me and it hurts for the people I know who have faced blackness. Who have stared into the depths of a seemingly empty life and longed for a glimmer of hope.
“…I wanted to be an emergency, somehow. I always felt like one, deep down.” – John Dodge
Don’t we all? I sometimes do. Maybe not always, but sometimes.
I feel the need to be someone’s emergency. I feel the need for someone to notice my silent screams and to drop everything to come running because I am worth it. I need to feel that I am worth it. That I have worth.
“We all have our dark nights. We’re probably never as alone as we think.” – Mary Swanson
‘As we think.’ As we fear. We fear—I fear that I am desperately alone. It circles back to that worth thing, and I look at what my life is and I know, without a doubt, that I am not good enough.
I am a mess of scars and tangles and raw places. I am rude and venomous and cold.
How can I be anything but alone?
How can I be worth it?
The night is dark, far darker than I think anyone can understand, and deep down I suspect I deserve it. I deserve to be alone.
It doesn’t have to be true. I am the girl who is loved fully and unconditionally. Who has been deemed so ‘worth it’ that a perfect somebody died to save me from myself. He died. I fear death, and maybe he did too, but he died for me to shout that I am irrefutably worth it.
I know that.
But sometimes, in the dark of night, I am still afraid.
Maybe we all are. Maybe you are.
You’re not alone. Know that, please, above all else.
You are not alone in your fear. You are not alone with your fears.
Truth runs deeper than what you feel, what you imagine.
The truth is that you are loved fully and unconditionally. You have been deemed so ‘worth it’ that a perfect somebody died to save you from yourself. He died to save you from your fears. He died to shout that you are irrefutably worth it. And now he lives and promises that you are never alone.
We’re never as alone as we think.
“There’re people like me in the world, I think. You don’t hear much from us because we usually don’t say anything. But we’re out here, trying to get a hold on the whole thing.” – The Mechanic
Us: the mostly silent messes.
We don’t talk about our failures enough, I think. We’re too quiet about our fears.
We dupe ourselves into believing that somehow everyone else has it together. That nobody else has as much to hide as we do.
Can I admit something?
I am a wreck.
That wasn’t really a weighty admittance. I’ve said it before. And I’ll keep saying it. Not as self-deprecation, but as hope.
I am a wreck, and you are a wreck, but we’ve been deemed salvageable.
My life is a salvaged wreck, and somebody’s putting me back together. Slowly, sure, but it’s happening.
Please don’t read this and think that I’m on the edge of crisis. I’m not. Tonight has been truly wonderful, and I’ve kind of been floating all day.
I jumped off of a couple of steps earlier and shouted for joy.
The world is full of joy.
Tonight isn’t one of those dark nights.
But my soul remembers them.
My soul remembers how quickly clouds can darken the skies, and it cries out for someone to understand those moments. I think Mr. Eno does.
I don’t know where you’re at tonight, physically or emotionally.
If you are physically in Abilene, come and see Middletown. No matter where you are emotionally. Please. We have six more shows, November 13-14 and 19-22, and this really isn’t something you should miss.
If you are not in Abilene, find and read Middletown. Especially if ‘dark nights’ and ‘being an emergency’ resonate with you. Read Middletown, and know that I am here to listen. I don’t claim to even begin to have all the answers, but I can listen.
I am good at listening.
And I never want you to feel alone.
Hit me up on facebook, or comment here, or—if you know me in person—come up and start a conversation. I don’t bite. And I’m serious: you never have to let yourself feel alone as long as I’m around.
Feelings are sticky. They don’t make sense. (Trust me. I am currently battling the Battle of the Unruly Emotions and it is downright ridiculous the lies I’m being fed. Like, um, let’s stop ignoring the perspective I am going to great lengths to try to attain, please. And that’s all totally beside the point.)
Fear is sticky, too, and it convinces us that its presence is justified. But it isn’t, and finding an Other to give you some perspective on what you’re fearing is really helpful.
It’s really important.
God’s love is sticky, too.
And it’s not an adhesive that you can escape. You are loved, more than you will ever comprehend. It’s okay if you can’t understand that tonight. But please know that. Know that your mess can never be too much. I promise. Bigger than that, God promises.
I love you. I love your humanity and your soul and your destiny for something bigger than yourself.
So goodnight, sweet human. Whether or not it is night where you are. It’s night somewhere, right? In some Middletown somewhere on the planet. Sweet dreams.
my anthem, on the dark nights