Little Actors Club

On Tuesdays this past spring Ryann and I ate dinner early and then hop in the car.  We made our way to the community center, the same one where I spent so much of my own youth.  We headed upstairs, down the hall to Arrowhead room 2.  Toots joined a group of other 3-6 year olds for a 45 minute class titled, “Little Actors Club.”  It was a drop off class, so I couldn’t watch, and because she’s three and her reporting skills leave something to be desired, I don’t exactly know what went on during those 45 minutes.  From what I gathered, they acted out a different story each week.  The teacher brought makeshift costumes and props.  Laced in their play acting are theater games and vocabulary lessons.  It seems to be a popular class; this one was more full than any of the others we’ve taken at the community center.  

I came across this class ages ago and knew I wanted to sign my girl up.  I hesitated though, questioning if it was because I thought she would like it or because I would have liked it at her age.  I worry about becoming a stage mom, pushing my three year old into acting classes.  Still though, something in my gut knew she’d love it.  In the end it was her brother’s hockey class that tipped my hand.  If he was signed up for another session of something, she would want to be too, and I hadn’t been impressed with the dance class last fall.

Every Tuesday at 6:15 I was so very thankful I followed my gut.  She skipped out of class each week, animatedly chattering about the past 45 minutes.  She’d be on a high for the rest of the evening, so excited about life and her place in it.  Little Actors Club made my girl come alive in the purest and truest sense.  

One week as I walked through the community center with Ryann, inwardly glowing as I watched her outwardly glow, I marveled at how innate our wiring is.  I had peeked in the window as I waited for the end of class.  Ry had a smile a mile wide as she acted out whatever story they were doing that week.  I could tell how happy she was in that moment, how “in her element” she felt.  And it’s amazing to me that at this young age Ry has an element.  There is a thing that makes her come alive, a thing she was created to love and do.  This doesn’t feel like the normal kid joy that comes from doing normal kid fun things.  There is a different energy about her after Little Actors Club, an exhilaration that radiates from her.

And as I watched my girl radiate and come alive I was struck by how long it’s been since I’ve felt that way.  When did I stop doing the things that make me come alive?  Why did I stop doing them?  If you asked me today, I’m not even sure I know what makes me come alive right now.  What brings me exhilaration these days?  What has me skipping and buzzing like Ryann after Little Actors Club?

I don’t know, but I want to find out.  I don’t know if it will be something that has always made me come alive, or something new, something I’ve never tried.  I just know I want to make space to explore the things that make me come alive again.  Watching Ryann every Tuesday in the spring has me longing for that spark.  It’s inspiring me to try and find it again.  

I’m tempted to think it’s selfish of me to search for my own “come alive” moments.  But when I watch Ryann, when I observe her pure joy and excitement I think about how much better she would be if I, as her mother, operated out of a similar place of happiness.  If I mothered out of a sense of being alive and exhilaration.  Wouldn’t we all be better off?

So I’m searching for my own Little Actors Club.  I’m exploring and wondering and dreaming.  I’ll let you know if I figure anything out.

What makes you come alive?