But What If It Actually works?

Firstly, an important update from the last blog.

The garden has been rescued.

We spent a decent chunk of Sunday tackling it and I’m delighted to report that it no longer looks like a scene from The Jungle Book. Sadly, Baloo did not make an appearance. Despite that, I am sure you’ll be thrilled to know, I did take a moment to blast out a good rendition of The Bare Necessities, much to Adam’s delight. And by “delight”, I obviously mean the exact opposite. Anyway …

Those of you who made it to the end of my last ramblings might remember that I casually dropped in the fact that I’d made another fairly significant life decision and then gave you absolutely no further information. So, I suppose I should probably explain.

I’ve quit my job. My permanent and secure corporate job.

I’m taking some time out to work out exactly what I want to do next. Where I want to spend my time. Where I want to put my energy. What I want the next phase of my career - and, actually, my life - to look like.

And, apparently, to spend a not-insignificant amount of time prancing around on stages like a lunatic. Because it also turns out that I’ve committed myself to so much at the beginning of next year that maintaining a full-time permanent job alongside it would have required either a time machine or the complete removal of sleep from my daily routine. Neither currently feels particularly achievable.

I’ve been flippantly referring to the whole thing as my first midlife crisis. But actually? I’m really bloody proud of myself.

What if?

At risk of repeating myself, I think we spend an extraordinary amount of our lives asking ourselves that question. What if it doesn’t work? What if I regret it? What if we can’t afford it? What if I give up something secure and then realise I’ve made a terrible mistake?

All perfectly sensible questions. And I’m not advocating throwing all common sense out of the window and making enormous life decisions because somebody on the internet told you to follow your dreams. If you’ve read any of these blogs before, you’ll know I’m far too obsessed with spreadsheets for that.

There will be sacrifices involved in making this work. Big ones. But at some point, I realised I needed to spend a little less time finding reasons why I couldn’t do something and a little more time problem-solving how I could.

There wasn’t one great epiphany. No dramatic moment where I stared meaningfully into the distance and suddenly knew exactly what I needed to do.

And importantly, I’m not deeply unhappy in my corporate career. I just know there can be more. More time spent doing the things that fill my bucket. More space to explore opportunities when they appear. More time creating things. More time performing. More time figuring out what I actually want rather than simply continuing along the path I’m already on because it’s safe and familiar.

And when my brain inevitably asks: But what if this all goes horribly wrong?

Well … What actually is the worst that could happen? In twelve months’ time, I might find myself applying for another corporate job. That’s hardly a catastrophe.

But there’s another question I’ve started asking myself far more often: What if it works? What if taking some time out opens doors I don’t even know exist yet? What if I discover something I want to do for the next ten years? What if I don’t? What if I just have a brilliant year doing things I love and then decide I’m ready to go back?

All of those outcomes are okay.

Nervous or excited?

I also need to give Adam a rather enormous amount of credit at this point. The support he has given me, the belief he has shown in me and the fact that he has actively encouraged me to do something that makes me happy - despite the sacrifices we’ll both have to make to allow it to happen - is pretty extraordinary.

I’m incredibly lucky to have somebody standing beside me saying, essentially: Go on then. See what happens.

Someone I’ve introduced you to before, who occasionally comes out with annoyingly wise things, once told me that the physical responses to nervousness and excitement can feel remarkably similar. So that’s what I’m going with.

Any nervous energy? Excitement. Definitely excitement. Nothing to see here. And there is a lot to be excited about. Because this decision also means I can throw myself wholeheartedly into the projects we have coming up next year.

Including one particularly big one.

Enter Austen Brontë

Hopefully, if you follow our socials, you’ll already have seen something about Austen Brontë — a brand-new musical that we’ve been given the opportunity to produce on behalf of Ellis Live. And this wasn’t something we expected to be doing quite so soon.

When we started Badger, our focus was on creating brilliant amateur theatre and the kind of experiences we wanted to be part of ourselves. I don’t think any of us imagined that, this early in our journey, we’d also be given the opportunity to help develop and produce a brand-new piece of professional theatre.

But then Austen Brontë came along.

The opportunity reached us through our network, and that in itself means a huge amount. Rick, Adam and I individually have years of experience creating theatre, but as an “intact” producing team we’re still relatively new. For somebody to point a project like this in our direction so early feels like a real vote of confidence in what we can bring to it.

And the more we heard about the concept — and the passion and ambition behind it — the more difficult it became not to get excited. I remember telling Rick, the aforementioned (annoyingly) wise person, about the opportunity and giving him a rough overview of what was being proposed.

His response was basically: “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” I’m not entirely sure I’d reached that conclusion myself at that point.

So naturally I asked whether he was going to do it which went something like:

Rick: “I’m doing it if you’re doing it.”

Lucy: “Well, I’m doing it if you’re doing it.”

End of conversation.

At that stage, the project was still developing and we hadn’t yet heard the music. So when the first message landed with some of the tracks attached, I was nervous. And this time I really do mean nervous. Not nervous energy that I’d successfully rebranded as excitement. Actual nervousness.

I pressed play. And within about ten seconds, a huge weight lifted.

The music is special.

It’s different. It’s quirky. It’s clever. It’s musically interesting. And the more we’ve seen and heard since, the more excited we’ve become about what this could be.

Now we get to do something particularly brilliant. We get to find the people who will help us bring it to life.

Another kind of Badger

We’re currently looking for a small paid cast to develop Austen Brontë with us — and that feels pretty significant. Because suddenly Badger can be two things.

We can continue creating amateur productions that give people the opportunity to make incredible theatre outside of their day jobs. And we can create paid opportunities for performers who want theatre to be their day job.

For some of the people who eventually join this company, Austen Brontë could be their first professional credit. How bloody exciting is that?

We’ve already had an amazing response to the casting call and we cannot wait to start meeting everybody who has put themselves forward.

Do we know exactly where this project will ultimately go? No. And perhaps that’s rather fitting. Because I’ve just written an entire blog about learning to be okay with not knowing exactly what happens next.

What I do know is that the foundations are there: passionate writers, a creative team who genuinely believe in it, brilliant music and an idea with huge potential.

Now we need the right cast to come into the room and help us discover what it can become. There will undoubtedly be challenges. There will definitely be lessons. There will almost certainly be spreadsheets. And I cannot wait.

What if it doesn’t work?

Perhaps that’s the question connecting all of this. Leaving a secure job. Starting a theatre company. Producing RENT. Saying yes to an opportunity that wasn’t even on the radar when we started all of this. There are always a thousand reasons not to do something. Sometimes they’re very sensible reasons. I should probably listen to some of them.

But if I spend my whole life asking what if it goes wrong?, I might miss another fairly important question. What if it goes right?

I have absolutely no idea what my life will look like twelve months from now. And, for probably the first time in my life, I’m quite enjoying that.

Maybe this is my midlife crisis after all. If it is, I highly recommend it. Although perhaps ask me again in twelve months.

Before I go, a little bit of Blogging Badger admin. I’ve had a request for a blog about how we approach the casting process and, conveniently, we have two casting processes coming up over the next couple of months.

So it feels like the perfect opportunity to write about one as it actually happens — the decisions, the difficult bits, what happens in the room and everything we learn along the way. Thank you for the suggestion, Lesley Jackson. I haven’t forgotten and I can’t wait to tell you about the day I sent all prospective auditionees the exact same email 25 + times…

Until next time, thanks for reading.

Love, Lucy 🦡🤍