In The Audience of Life

When I was done doing the work that, it seemed, might have kept going had I let it, I race-walked (dressing for the day, including high-heeled boots, doesn't lend itself to running) to see my daughter in a show. Having made it in time, I settled in to lose myself in what was happening on the stage, which I did for a large portion of the two-plus hours I was there. While the day had sent my head in all sorts of directions, sitting in the audience forced me, just for a moment in time, to put all else aside and focus on what was right in front of me.
 
Now, my day was unusually event-filled, but when I think about it, almost every day presents me (and many of us) with more things to think about and more things to do than might be humanly possible in a 24-hour period (particularly when ideally, at least six of those hours are devoted to sleeping). We get good at multitasking, and we try desperately to split our brain to be able to consider and manage the tasks of work and life and present and future all at the same time. Sometimes, that makes for a sharper, more active brain, other times, just an overwhelmed one. And almost all the time, a great deal of race walking.
 
What's great about being part of an audience, however, is that it forces us to set aside what we need to do, and focus simply on what we get to see. To set aside, even if just briefly, all the things that require decisions and choices and taking responsibility, and just absorb what is set before us. It is a rare opportunity, and one that we do well to seek out and take.
 
Watching a show or a movie, or even a sporting event, doesn't remove our responsibilities--it simply puts them on hold. Processing and handling what happened in my day will likely spill over into many days--that's just how life is. But for a moment, I put it all aside and sat in the audience. And that gave me lots of reasons for applause.