Last night I met an actress I've admired for years. Tonight at another theater I sat by the playwright of the production.
Three years ago both encounters would have been impossible. I would never have approached either person. I would have considered them too important or too busy or too far removed from my world. I would have spent more time agonizing about what to say if I were to approach them than the actual conversations would have ever lasted.
Risk doesn't worry me anymore. Embarassment is rare these days. I've simply come to the conclusion that we're all human and if, by chance, they (strangers, people I would have once wanted to speak to but distanced myself from) are too busy, they'll let me know.
I also know that folks like to talk about themselves. The actress had recently directed readings of erotic women's poetry at a local venue and I was interested in knowing how the event was received. The playwright was simply sitting alone and waiting for his play to begin and I thought he looked slightly uncomfortable. So, while I tore tickets for those entering, he stood by me and we chatted about his writing, his travels, his children. Eventually, I learned he was in an award-winning BBC comedy and that he now writes because he can afford to since he's living off the residuals.
I wonder how many moments I missed because of my internal arguments regarding other people's reception of me? I wonder how many adventures I lost?