Could it be?

I was with a family member, who wanted to hear the dialogue between me and my partner, so I had started to read. I was reading my lines for the upcoming play and something kept on eating away at me. For some reason, I didn't feel that magic that I had once felt when reading the lines in a dialogue with my partner. I kept repeating the sentences over and over again and still, I couldn't understand why.

I looked over to my one-man audience and said "...I don't think that I can read my lines without my partner."

It really struck me, this simple sentence. It's that lone thought about magical chemistry being in the presence of the cast members and the synergy that's between all of us on stage that gives me the creeps. We can't see it, but it's all around us. When we speak, talk, move, smile or cry... it's always there.

Could that energy, that light, be God? That same God being in the presence of the cast when we all pray before the show goes on? God being there to comfort you when you feel nervous about going up onto stage?    Can it be, God?

I believe it to be God. A friend once said to me “Don’t think about anything. When you go up there, your eyes… they’ll glaze over. Just look up into the audience, you’ll do fine.”

This was right before I had to go up on-stage and I was feeling nervous. At that time, I thought he was mental. I thought to myself, how could you possibly know your lines without thinking about it? Bullcrap. It was then my queue to go up. The lights all turned off as the new scene was starting, my scene. I started looking lost and frightened as I made my way up at the front of the stage. I tried to remember my lines and run through them as quickly as possible, but they wouldn’t come to mind. I looked up into the dark abyss of where the audience members were, but I just couldn’t see them.

The stage lights slowly all came to life and then there the audience members were. All sitting there, expecting to be entertained, waiting to mock us if we made the slightest mistake. Then my eyes started to freeze. I couldn’t move them out of their fixed position. It was like somebody had taken a small pin needle and stuck it through each of my eyeballs so that they couldn’t move around. My mouth started to move, shooting out my lines. I didn’t even think twice about it, the words just kept coming out as if I had been reciting them for my entire life.

I kept on wondering why, or how it was even possible for me to have known my lines.

Was it God?