Audience of One
This article is part of the Claritas fall 2023 issue, Stages. Read the full print release here.
By: cameron pien
Five, six, seven, eight…
Flip the switch.
Lights up pulse on inhale exhale smile!
My feet trace intricate shapes across the floor,
iridescent music notes flicker and flash through my bloodstream,
Fueling the years spent writing stories with
my body as my pen, though sometimes the ink bled
under bright lights and applause and adrenaline.
In the studio mirrors I watch myself grow
three to seventeen
limbs lengthening towards, heart reaching for, eyes fixed on
The stage.
The spotlight glimmers seductively, yet
as I stand breathless in the wings
I gaze upon the tenebrous bridge of darkness I must cross
to bask in the warmth of its embrace.
It will all be worth it, I whisper.
I twirl and leap and glide towards the glow
as my smile slips and becomes staged
as the darkness beneath my feet awakens
swirling and snaking around my ankles
slithering up towards my heart
stealing the joy of the music and supplanting it
with selfishness, desperation, and envy.
Still I forge ahead,
desperately seeking the applause of a vast, faceless audience
though their cheers always ring quieter than in my imagination.
The emptiness claws at the walls of my heart as I attempt to sedate it
The applause is never enough, I’m
never enough and I wonder what is.
I chase the artificial illumination of a manmade light
As I shun the God who is light.
What does it mean,
My teacher asks us during our weekly worship session,
To dance for an audience of one?
I blink as colors shift and swirl on the canvas of my mind
the golden glow of the spotlight diffusing to illuminate the entire stage,
the audience shrinking, their faces transmuting from those of my peers and teachers
and from my own features
to the countenance of Jesus.
What does it mean,
I ask myself,
To praise His name with dancing?
The stages we occupy are not confined to the interior of theaters
Stages are campuses and workplaces and cafes,
libraries and cars and gyms,
stages are everywhere.
Every day, we perform
What story?
Every day, we seek applause
From whom?
Every action of our lives inscribes a new line
on the page of our chapters in God’s overarching narrative.
May our words and work worship the Master Storyteller and Artist
who writes the gilded, leather-bound volumes of history
paints every sunrise with sweeping strokes
animates the trees in the playful breeze
and created every single one of us.
I begin dedicating myself to productions that tell stories from Scripture,
to shows performed at local charity events,
and as I seek to reflect His light
instead of absorbing the light for myself
As I claim the stage as a platform for ministry rather than
as a personal podium,
the insidious tendrils of selfishness that ensnare my feet
wither away when confronted with the light of the Lord.
I am set free to pursue His purpose for me–
The body He knit together was made to glorify Him,
to tell His stories.
How would the stage of the world change
If we stopped chasing the spotlight and started chasing Him?
Perhaps the music in our blood would return,
for it stammers into a discordant hum when we glorify ourselves
with the gifts He has blessed us with instead of glorifying Him.
Let us take His hand as He invites us to follow His lead
and may we dance with joy and lightness of step,
For Him and with Him.