Saying yes to one thing means saying no to another thing. This is a truth that has become all too real to me at the moment. What usually occurs is that I commit in advance to one thing and then it seems a hundred and one other – just as great – opportunities pop up closer to the time and I result in saying no to all of them because I have already committed myself to something else. I’m almost resentful of the first thing. But then the dates arrive and I am glad in my decision and resolve to not be flaky and unreliable.


Does this sound familiar? It’s not always the result of bad planning and bad time management. Sometimes everything you want and could do is literally all in the same week or weekend or year. And you have to make a choice and say no to somethings that will pinch a bit to say no to.


We just have to trust that there are other opportunities; other times will arise when we can go and do that other thing which we wanted to do.


Or just stop saying yes to anything unless it’s completely last minute and so you can’t possibly have anything else come up within that time which would clash so… Risky move though isn’t it? And yes, something else will come up to show you that you can’t be that stupid and that clever at the same time. It just will.


And so I repeat: We have to trust that there will be more opportunities; different times again will come, and then we will go and we will do the next thing we which were meant to do.

​
Where there’s a plan, there’s a way. Sometimes you have to say no to one good thing in order to do the thing you were meant to do. And then see where that leads.

I could see warm light escaping onto the street from my destination. Excitement bubbling, I entered the room and was welcomed by pockets of people talking to each other. I smiled and nodded at the waitress, now a familiar face to each other. I noticed a tall man in the middle, wearing a suit and with a quiff of silvery grey hair on his head, immediately noticing me, the newcomer and spying the ukulele case on my shoulder. Although having said that, I did stand out. I'm five feet tall and was wearing a large wide brimmed black hat, with a baggy – meant to be meant in a stylish way – green wool coat, long hair draped around my shoulders and carrying a ukulele. If I was looking to blend into any sensible crowd now wasn't the time to do so.

I started playing the Ukulele about three years ago. Now I frequently write songs on it.
I started plating the keyboard four years ago. Now I'm in a band and frequently play in other groups. oh and I write songs on that too.

You never know what might happening when you just start playing.

One of the scariest things about theatre is claiming that your thoughts have merit: that they are of worth and worth knowing for that brief moment. The sort of saying that what you said is of such value that after sharing it people should partake by either witnessing or even at its most horrific: engaging with it.
 
Such a fear I have of cultivating pride that I have developed an acute inferiority to my own creativity and the power I think that I can possess. I feel so small and insignificant which is a dangerous thought for any human being to have, because it is an infectious disease that targets your most wonderful qualities and skills, for example your creativity. Its symptoms include paralysis – either of the mind, thus stopping you from imagining in the first place, normally through fear – or paralysis of the will so that once you have created something from your inner parts you can never bring yourself to share it with anyone…Sometimes not even yourself for fear of indulgence.
 
I have discovered that although I will always be small physically, I am not a small person because we were each created ourselves to have a unique presence. And which we all do. That alone is captivating and I can spend all day enjoying the beauty of other people’s presences. However my being does not stop there.
 
Why would one consider their creations to always be relevant to their beings instead of two separate entities?