A family member of mine has very recently accelerated into a late stage of Alzheimer's disease.
And while she is now permanently relegated to a hospital bed and incapable of many basic functions, in her mind - and according to her verbal narrative - she is still very busy taking care of business: making meals, doing laundry, paying bills and looking after her dog.
For those of us on the outside of her world, typical reactions are to say things like "her mind is gone" or "she is no longer here."
But lately I've been thinking about why we feel compelled to evaluate each other's perception of reality, or why we judge each other on how we emotionally respond to situations.
After all, if I believe something is happening, or if I am experiencing a certain emotion, aren't these things absolutely real to me, even if others aren't able to see the things that I see, or feel the emotions that I am feeling?
In my family member's case, it is probably a lot easier for me to participate in her world, than it is for her to experience mine, so why not just play along with her imaginary activities, rather than regretfully clinging to the much sadder version of events that I am seeing?
A close friend of mine who is a professional therapist and group facilitator once pointed out to me how it is our instinct to reach out and touch someone who is crying in our presence. In her work, she encourages people not to do this.
Her reason is that while we may believe we are trying to comfort the other person, in a way, we are simply trying to prohibit them from crying, as their crying is making us uncomfortable and, for our selfish purposes, we want them to stop.
And, as she says, "what's wrong with just letting people be?"
I attended the preview of Theatre Northwest's current production Half Life, the other evening. I found the play and its production to be absolutely brilliant.
On the surface, the play is about a later-in-life love affair between two elderly people. But underneath it is so much more than that and director Jack Grinhaus and his cast and production team have done an excellent job of creating a theatrical experience that encourages us to not only learn to accept alternate versions of reality, but liberates us to question our own perceptions as well.
At first look, the stage design seemed rather minimalist - four large openings upstage covered by hospital curtains, with colourless lighting patterns juxtaposing boxed outlines and geometric patterns in rhythm with changing scenes.
I soon realized that the staging and lighting were actually powerful visual metaphors. The covered openings become entry and exit points for storylines and characters that seemed to come, then go, then come, then go. Much like how it is for people who are becoming chronically forgetful and gradually migrating into their distant memories and fantasies.
Conversations in the play about how our memories work (and fail) were beautifully and subtly supported by the perpetual opening and closing of curtains, like veils in the mind.
And as the play progressed, it gradually became apparent that I couldn't really assume that what I was seeing was actually what was happening. The way this trick gets played on the audience is quite delightful. It also became fun to try to decide whose reality was more enviable - the younger characters that still have all their faculties but are bogged down in emotional muddles, or the older folks, losing the battle against dementia but who just don't care what anybody thinks anymore.
For me, the litmus test of any play or performance is whether or not I find myself wanting to talk about it afterwards. And as soon as the play was over, I couldn't wait to write about Half Life. It is a thought- and emotion-provoking tour de force that is brilliantly acted by the entire cast and ingeniously executed via the intriguing set courtesy of Hans Saefkow and the intellectual lighting design of Andrew Moro.
The show runs until April 12 and I say it is a must-see for anyone who loves a love story, digs a bit of philosophy mixed in with some really cool theatrical design and wants a chance to try to answer the age-old question "does anything really matter and does it really matter if it does?"
Tickets are on sale at Books and Company and online at www.theatrenorthwest.com.
