Those Who Wait

By Padraic Lillis

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide;

"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"

I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent

That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts; who best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

And post o'er land and ocean without rest:

They also serve who only stand and wait."

 – John Milton

This poem has been gnawing at me since this period of self-isolation began.

The first half of the poem Milton is asking “How do I serve my calling as a poet now that I’ve gone blind? Seriously, what am I supposed to do? I want to serve. I want to honor my calling… but I can’t see…are you expecting me to still show up and work?” 

And the answer he comes to is “You are serving your artistry if you are willing, regardless of ability.”

We have not all gone blind, like Milton, but we have experienced loss. We have lost financial security. We have lost physical contact. We have lost a sense of safety in the day to day. We have lost normalcy. 

There is a feeling as artists that we need to take advantage of this time and create. To make things, anything, because we are artists and that is what we are called to do. We’ve all heard by now that Shakespeare wrote King Lear while he was in quarantine. And that’s amazing. If you can write King Lear or the equivalent – go for it. I look forward to seeing it. I do not believe King Lear was the only play written during that time. It’s just the only one we know. Because he was Shakespeare…and it was King Lear.  There will be thousands of plays written during this period and I fear for the inboxes of literary managers across the world that will be filled in the coming months by those of us who are not Shakespeare’s peer. Hopefully there will be one that is the equivalent or better.

It is impressive how many in our community are creating and sharing work. There are virtual readings, productions, audible plays, classes, songs, sketches – from celebrities, students, and peers (mine, not Shakespeare’s). There is a ton of content. Technology makes it easier and easier to share with one another and to remain virtually connected. It is as though in this isolation we need to let people know that we are here. We are alive. We are creating. I’m not sure what the intent is…or if there is a conscious intention to all of it.  There does seem to be a frenzy to create and to get things out in the world…as if we’re afraid we’ll be forgotten. 

I know I fear that.  

That’s one of the reasons I am writing this essay – so you’ll remember me. Also, because I recognize that to an artist audience member who may not be creating, the amount of content that is being shared can also inspire the feeling of being left out, or left behind, or failing. And it’s not true. It is not a failing if you are unable to create during a global pandemic. It’s human.

This time allows us to appreciate our humanity. Appreciate that we’re staying in, wearing masks, and applauding our health care workers. Appreciate that some days are easier than others to be productive, positive, - to shower. Appreciate that when I watch the original cast of Hamilton sing to a nine-year-old for her birthday that I am moved to tears; and simultaneously realize that this generous act was recorded so that it could be viewed by millions of people. And I fall into worrying if I’m doing enough. Creating enough. Writing enough. Is what I’m doing being seen by enough…what is enough? 

I am developing The Farm Theater’s College Collaboration play that will be presented on Zoom and live streamed on The Farm Theater’s Facebook page Sunday, April 19th at 7:00PM; producing the Bullpen Session podcast (the most recent episode is with playwright Rajiv Joseph) – check it out on iTunes or wherever you get your podcasts; writing, teaching classes… I did an interview for Dramatists Guild Live about the value of presenting plays on Zoom. That whole paragraph is so you’ll know I’m here.

Also, I have had four projects, which make up two thirds of my 2020 income, put on hold indefinitely. And…three weeks ago I was creatively paralyzed for four days while I was trying to figure out where I was going to go at the end of my time as a guest artist at Shenandoah University in Virginia. Should I go home to Brooklyn, the epic center of the virus, or go stay with my mom in Rochester? I was worried about staying in my own apartment because I don’t really know how to shop for two weeks-worth of groceries and I would’ve ended up going to the store, the pharmacy, the Chinese take-out place like twice a day. And I was anxious about going to my mom’s because I didn’t want to get her sick. I wasn’t sick, but what if I carried the virus? I decided to isolate in a hotel for a week and then stay with my mom. 

We are all doing our best to care for ourselves – physically, emotionally, and mentally. Some are creating artistically. Some need to create silence from the chaos. Some need security, some a word from a friend, others just need time. 

There is virtue in stillness.

We don’t have to do more than we can, we just have to remain willing to answer the call when it comes.  

And as always, 

You are enough.