Witnessing Orion

This week, I've been doing plays in the dark.

My theatre company is presenting a little play called The Illusion outdoors in a homemade amphitheater abutted by a mill house and millpond, acres and acres of grass, forest, and farm animals. Though our play begins at twilight, it isn't long before everything is totally dark, save for the stars and the stage.

Doing plays in the dark can be a powerful way to build community and belonging. There's something about turning off all sources of light that helps us slow down and focus on each other, instead of being distracted by the world around us. It's like a controlled burn - we're intentionally eliminating any external distractions so we can concentrate on deepening our connections with each other. It creates an environment where we can do “deep work” together, investing time and energy into strengthening our relationships. With no light pollution, it's easier to see how truly special our relationships are and why they deserve to be nurtured. Plus, in the dark you get the added bonus of feeling safe to share vulnerable stories without judgment or scrutiny.

When we leave the site each night, we unplug everything. Venus shines brightly as I walk to my truck. One by one, each car from each actor and crew member leaves. And I can stand there, witnessing Orion. That's a community, too.