It isn’t the big bad wolf, the wicked witch of the West, nor the monster under their bed, but the physical therapist telling them to rest that frightens stage performers. The reality of a break goes far beyond the financial consequences that it might have and being deprived of claps and cheers. Asking their body to stay still is like asking their heart to stop beating.
I haven’t been able to write lately. You know how many drafts I have saved? Ten. Ten drafts saved. Ugh. I absolutely hate it and never really struggle finishing a blog post. It’s pretty much always just word vomit and comes out so easy for me. But, the last few weeks— NOPE. Stupid Mercury Retrograde, killing my whole vibe.
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