by Saoirse Anton

Last week I saw a lot of discussion of Blue Monday. For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, it is the third Monday in January, which is supposedly the most depressing day of the year. It was made up in 2005 by a travel company to encourage people to buy more flights. Naturally, I don’t set much store by the idea of this singular, ultimately depressing day of the year. However, I do admit that January has gone on forever and been a particular trial this year. From Storm Éyowyn, to wildfires, and from the Trump inauguration to the interminable wait for the January payday, it has been a pretty grim month.

Over the weekend Storm Éyowyn left us, like most of the rest of the country, without electricity, phone coverage or water. The first day was okay, the storm raged outside, we wrapped up cosy and enjoyed the novelty of a candlelit evening. By mid-way through day two that novelty had worn off and I was thoroughly fed up. But day two was also the day things improved, because it was the day we had phone signal back, could leave the house and were able to contact friends and family properly. In town there was a sense of connection between people as we walked around surveying the damage, ducked into a cosy pub with an open fire for a toastie, and chatted to people about their Storm Éyowyn experience. Later, we gathered with a few relatives for a cuppa and a session of charging devices and filling containers of water at the house of the one family member whose utilities were back up and running. Later again, we got a text from some friends who had electricity, heat and water back asking us if we would like to abandon our cold, dark house and come stay with them for the night. As I sat in their cosy living room, which was filled with three households brought together by the storm, I found myself thinking about what the antidote to Blue Monday, the January Doldrums, and crisis situations like this weekend is.

It is other people, it is community.

In lending our camping stove out, checking in on friends, and accepting offers of help, we got through a cold, tricky weekend. When the wildfires raged in California, we saw the internet awash with offers of help, fundraising and shelter. And when President Trump signed in executive orders that put some groups of people at risk, we saw an immediate mobilization of support and information across communities.

The main draw I have always had towards theatre is the community surrounding it. To make a play happen, it takes so many different people sharing their individual skills, and then it takes an audience gathering to bring that play to life. The foundation of theatre is interdependence, sharing and people gathering. While a painter or writer may never find themselves face to face with the people that consume their work, theatre artists depend on the immediacy of a live audience, they connect in real-time with their audiences. Community is at the heart of it.

If you have been feeling glum this January, pick things up as we head into February and take yourself to a show or a workshop. Call a friend, invite them along, or just head along and get chatting to other like-minded audience members. Take the time to really revel in the experience of sitting amongst a community of people who are enjoying the same show at the same time as you. Sink in to the joy of sitting elbow to elbow with friends and strangers, and crying, laughing or watching in rapt silence together, in tune with each other and the show. Pitch up to a workshop and enjoy the experience of learning something new with a group of people, of someone sharing their expertise and knowledge with you.

Shed the January blues, warm up your days, and greet the turn of the month and the approach of Spring with a renewed joy in community.