Patience is to-lean-into despite no catch for your will. Forbearance, often a near miss of righteousness and en route to passive aggression, is a matter of withstanding unwelcome energy or a thwart to the will. Patience is an exercise of memory (knowing oneself and what one wants), understanding (surpassing the sum of those wants with an active desire for union; handing even that want over without attachment to consolation) and will (moving forward into experience, hopefully; if one’s will has been effectively replaced – moving in adoration of the will that moves you further into experience, further amplifying memory and understanding, without increasing one’s private property). Forbearance lacks memory (one replaces who one is with what one wants), understanding (your reason is motionless, or moves only to justify hardened desires), and will (in the sense that it is on a kind of strike until the wants are satisfied).


To what degree does even very good (well produced theater full of ideas and expertise) teach forbearance versus patience? How often are we invited to put up with a piece that won’t admit us into it – that doesn’t want to co-create us – that wants us to shut up until its over and then approve of it? We teach patience with space and devise work in a way that allows the audience a way to navigate their own journey. In a mild way, festivals work like this, if they aren’t the hyperstatis of tumescent marketing. But the longest-lived dramaturgical traditions in the world open out to co-creation, and cooperate in building new knowledge around creative patience (the leaning into nothing).


Well who knows. Am blessed with time and a river at the moment…

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