Five days of the national theatre conference in the beautiful mountians of Banff. It rained the whole time, but it was still beautiful and the air smelled so good. I slept a lot, and ate a lot (A LOT!) and had all kinds of great conversations.

So much to think about now. It was one of the more stimulating annual conferences I've been to in a while, with many things that are both frightening and thrilling coming to the fore in our group conversations, namely the direction we want our organization to go and the severity of the stumbling blocks in our way, and our collective desire to take fairly radical action.

I always find these events to be a facinating little personal journey. The five days spent with collegues from all over the country, discussing the work we do, is invigorating and sends me back home with renewed passion for my work (which lord knows I needed this year more than ever). I'm also always amazed at this shy and insecure part of my personality which rises, quite dramatically, to the fore-front. I get tongue-tied easily and always worry that what I've just said sounds incredibly dumb. I find it difficult and sometimes painful to strike up conversations with people I don't know very well. I retired to my room ever night by midnight at the latest (twice by 10pm) and was in no way my usual party self.

On the plus side, and something that substantially mitigated the shyness, people said some very nice things to me. Several people commented how they miss my presence on the board of the organization. Someone told me a story I don't even remember about something funny I had said several years ago and how they always remembered it and often tell the story. The new President of the organization told me how much she's appreciated my contribution on the membership committee and how she hopes I'll continue to take an active role. So I guess I'm not the idiot that I feel like sometimes at that gathering. Just insecurity raising it's ugly head.

The closing night party was fun. A lovely drive out to this meadow in the mountains, to this thing called a "do-nut tent" which is really much like a native round house, not a tent at all, but with a big hole in the middle of the roof and a fire pit inside. We ate and drank (good god, more food - roast beef, baked beans, rolls, salad, baked potatos, pie), played horse-shoes and bacchi ball in the rain, and danced to a DJ playing Bangra music. And I still managed to hop on the bus back to the hotel at 10:30.

I also met the most amazing and inspirational man. He was our key-note speaker and the rapporteur at the end of the conference. He's from here and he's the minister of a very progressive and liberal United Church. he's been a social justice advocate all of his life. He's travelled all over the world, spending time in places like the Sudan and Palestine, working for peace and social justice. While I'm by no means a "religious" person, it was so refreshing to hear someone speak of faith and spirituality from a truly honest and believing place. And it's amazing to me that he works for his beliefs from within the confines of organized religion, without fear. he says he hated the fact that religious belief has become synonimous with right-wing dogma and bigotry and in-justice. He reminded us all that spirituality has an important place in our world, in whatever way it manifests itself, and that theatre can play a big part in that.

There was so much more to the last few days, but I have to go do some laundry, so I'll just leave you with this little inspirational story he told us at the end of the evening last night.

This man stood at the edge of a very high cliff. The rest of his village stood 50 feet behind him, watching. He turned to them and said "Come to the edge". They replied "No. We're afraid. We'll fall". Again, he said "Come to the edge". Again they replied "No. We'll fall." He looked at them again and said "You don't have to be afraid. Come to the edge." So they did. And they flew.