an actor on an empty stage


An Actor on an Empty Stage

The heat wave broke. The trees are dancing in the wind. The valley haze from wild fires thruout the state has lifted. I’m up on the hill again for the first time in weeks. There’s not another car up here. This is as close to a perfect world as it’s going to get for me. When there’s nothing left to gain from life, small things become monumental.

I’m being spooked into oblivion. What’s taking me out finally is not ruptured aneurysms, busted bones or alcoholism, it’s the absence of love. The house lights have come up before the play is over. There’s no one out there past the footlights, all those empty seats. There are no stage hands, no fellow actors. Who wrote this script? Will something snap if I say my next line without a cue? This is a situation conducive to silence.

True humility is emptiness.

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