We hadn’t talked in 17+ years. Then we put our heads in nearby boxes at the wax museum. It was a weird and unexpected delight.
Andrea and I had been very close friends during grad school and beyond. We’d had what seemed like a sudden end around 2005/6. A coffee together last week–we were nudged by a common friend–shed light on what had happened. She’d needed help back then, and I had not heeded the call :(. I’d made up a different story about what had become of us. It felt good for me to get more curious, to take responsibility and make amends.
We covered a lot of ground quickly. Professional paths. Parenting. Both having blended families with complicated kids. We fondly recalled our Orbit Room days and making up bar challenges. She reminded me that, for a time, I was considering applying to med school (I remember this) or going to work in Yemen (what???).
Turns out she’s become an accomplished improv performer and teacher outside her academic career. She thanked me for convincing her to take a course together at Second City during our late 90s Toronto days. She says that improv’s #1 rule of saying “yes/and” changed the course of her life. Same. As a life philosophy, there really is nothing better.
Peter started improv right before we met. He says it opened him up and gave him the confidence to meet me. He’s the reason I am back playing at improv now. And he’s the sole reason I am saying yes to performing in front of an audience. We’ve even tossed around the idea of teaching kids.
So while all these overlapping stories probably only make sense to me, I’ll end with a thank you to Andrea. Our short time together last week showed me that I am the only one standing in my way to doing audacious things. Piecing together a more rounded and forgiving version of my past, helps me move more freely into a future I want.
First step: Give it my all in front of more live audiences. What have I got to lose?
Next step: Co-teach improv to some kids. Who knew we were allowed to decide things like this?!
