A Startling Discovery

A Startling Discovery

Ah, Gilbert and Sullivan!  Their ‘light operas’ were the delight of my teenage years!  This cover of a G&S songbook represents two of them: The Yeomen of the Guard and The Mikado. 

Nowadays schools have a wide range of musicals to choose from – Cats, Les Miserables, etc. – but back then it was only a question of which G&S opera we would perform.  They mostly had the same witty format: a young couple who fall in love, are kept apart, then are reunited; a ridiculous central character who sings a very fast amusing ‘patter song’; and a delightfully complicated plot which is finally unravelled to produce a happy ending for everybody. 

Every summer term, once the important March exams were safely past, my school would prepare to present another one.  Several different departments were involved: the music department, of course, but also the art and technical departments who oversaw the design and production of the scenery, and the domestic science department who took care of the costumes.

During my first year at this secondary school, aged twelve, I used to stand outside the music room at the end of lunchtime, enthralled by the lively four-part singing of the senior pupils as they rehearsed for the next opera. I waited eagerly for the bell to ring at the start of afternoon classes, because then the door would open and out would stream my heroes and heroines!  So, when I reached the age of sixteen, I was thrilled to become a member of the chorus of The Pirates of Penzance.  Now at last I could participate in the lunchtime rehearsals, enjoying Gilbert’s witty text and Sullivan’s lovely melodies, especially the inevitable (somewhat soppy) love song for the young couple – very suitable for someone like myself, in love for the first time!

Excitement rose as the week of the three stage performances drew nearer.  The scenery was put up in the Town Hall and the costumes arrived from the theatre suppliers.   On the day of the Dress Rehearsal a photographer arrived to take a photograph of the entire cast.  How glamorous we chorus girls felt in our long flouncy dresses and large bonnets!  (That’s me in the second row, second from the right.)

The first public performance went well, and we all felt exhilarated. My parents had bought tickets for the second night and so, confident that they would enjoy it, I looked forward to performing on stage in front of them.

Little did I know that my life was going to change for ever that night!

During the opening performance I had barely noticed the bright spotlights between me and the unseen people in the darkened hall.  But now, knowing that my parents were present, I became only too vividly, frighteningly aware of being looked at by invisible people ‘somewhere out there’.  By the end of the first chorus I was in a state of panic, desperate for the end of Act One.  My delight in the performance had been completely destroyed.

At long last we reached the Interval.  As soon as we had left the stage I hurried away on my own towards the back of the building, where I found a quiet place, and sat down, holding my head in my hands.

But suddenly I was high above, at ceiling level, looking down at my physical self!                An out-of-the-body experience!

This lasted only a minute or so, after which my spirit seemed to return to my body.  But by then I was terrified.  My solar plexus felt unusually sensitive, so, convinced that this had been the place from which my spirit had left, I clutched my stomach in order to prevent it from escaping again.  I was afraid to move.  Returning to the stage for Act Two was out of the question. 

My poor mother and father, alarmed at my absence, could no longer enjoy the show! I sat, shaking with fear, until, on hearing the final applause from the audience, I summoned up enough courage to go in search of them.

As soon as we arrived home I rushed to my bed and lay down, still holding the area of my solar plexus.  For the next few days I remained there, unable to explain to my mother what was wrong with me.  Worried, she sent for the doctor, who quietly asked if I had a boyfriend.  He obviously suspected that I was pregnant! - but I assured him that this was not possible, and that, in any case, my distress was caused by something completely different, something much more than mere ‘stage fright’ (which I had already had to deal with at the recent Music Festival).  Puzzled, he could only suggest a few days bed rest – which, indeed, did turn out to be the best advice.  (i.e. literally “just what the doctor ordered”!)

As I gradually relaxed, I realised that for the past few months I had been in a perpetual state of ‘get up and go’, preparing for my Higher exams, performing in seven different classes at the Music Festival, then rushing out to rehearsals for The Pirates.  In addition, I had been confused by an on/off romance with my boyfriend, who was about to leave school – and possibly me, as well!  All in all, my body had reached a state of ‘nervous exhaustion’, - something which I now knew that I would have to try to avoid in future.

But now I also had  a startling discovery to ponder over.  When I looked at my reflection in a mirror, there was something else to think about apart from "Is my hair okay?  Is that a plook (pimple) on my nose?  Have I put on weight?  Does that colour suit me?  Will he like what I'm wearing today?" (!)

 I now thought of my body as the container for my spirit, which was the essence of me.
Two separate entities!  Yes, I had to take care of my body, but it was just as important to look after my spirit.  Otherwise I couldn't function properly!

Another new thought: a mirror wasn't necessary to review the state of my spirit - in fact, a mirror would be a distraction!  All I needed to do was close my eyes and think.  Or, at times of anxiety, close my eyes, think and pray.  This I did.

Gradually I regained my equilibrium and resumed my normal activities with my friends.
Throughout the recovery process I was soothed and strengthened by the first three verses of the 23rd Psalm, which I had been encouraged to memorise at Sunday School years before, and which I still love to this day.

'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall want nothing.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, and leads me beside the waters of peace.   He renews life within me, and for his name's sake guides me in the right path.'

 I commend them to you...

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