Life is profoundly sad.
It is filled with loneliness, with regrets, lost chances, sad memories, words you can never take back, friends you’ll never see again, fractured pieces of your Self floating across the ocean of Life.

But on the stage, you forget.
You forget the profundity and the seriousness. You forget the consequences.

On the stage, you are performing.
You perform so that you can smile, at yourself, in secret, at the one moment you once lived when you were a completely different person, or for once, truly yourself.

On the stage, you are listening, truly.
To your heartbeat, to your breath, to yourself, to your partner, to the audience. You’re listening because you’re a good person, and you care. You care because it’s in your nature, you do not know how else to be.

On the stage, you are vulnerable.
The nature of your Being gets exposed as your true Self finds its way from underneath the layers of the trampled forest floor. The precious Self hidden away so carefully announces itself upon the world, untethered, unfiltered, unbound.

On the stage, you have a connection.
With the person next to you, with the audience, with humanity, with reality. You feel the ebb and flow of everything that exists, you feel the threads that connect you to the universe, to the past, to the future.

On the stage, you are present.
To take on life as it comes to you, because you have no choice.

On the stage, you are aware.
Aware of the how fleeting this moment is that is soon to pass away into nothingness.

On the stage, you are free.

On the stage, you are alive.

Life is also deeply joyous.
Because there are people you can share it with, in all its insanity and sadness.

A wise guy once said, the world’s a stage and we’re but players.
On the stage of Improv as on the stage of life,
I’ll be there for you,
if you ever need me.