work the work

Four hours and fourty minutes to my performance at Ngome Kongwe, the massive Old Fort that dominates the waterfront of Zanzibar's Stone Town. All the familiar resistances and fears kick in:

1) I don't have the right stage, tech, support. How can I do a decent job without the right setup?
2) People won't get it. Language barriers, context barriers, it's too personal, it's too self-involved.
3) I haven't rehearsed enough. I've drunk too much coffee this week - my voice will dry up. My body is still achey and stiff from all the travelling - I'll be a jerky wooden marionnette on stage.
4) There's too much else going on. Why should people choose Migritude over everything else in the program? Why should they stay?
5) The people who've promised to come will be disappointed. They'll cover it up, they'll be polite, but I'll know. I should never have invited them.

I move myself through the motions of preparation. Stretch, body warmups, voice warmups, costume, words. And the work takes over. The work comes alive. I start to experiment, shift things around, get new ideas. Laugh at myself for forgetting, yet again, what I always forget. What I always know when I allow myself to:

Listen to your body, not your head.
Move, don't think.
All you have to do is show up - and get out of your own way.
It's not about you. Ask for help. Offer it up.
Trust the work. Trust the work. Trust the work.