Dancing at Olympiateatern

First published in the Irish Times 2023

Three months after moving to Stockholm in the midst of a global pandemic with three small children, one question from people at home kept coming up:

-Have you made any friends yet?
-Sure it’s no bother to you. Aren’t you so social? Don’t you love making friends?

I didn’t know what milk to buy let alone how to go about making friends. I stood dazed in front of supermarket fridges for weeks; Swedes like their dairy.
Luckily having a Swedish husband meant arriving into already formed friendships. Having kids meant meeting mothers, some of which I added to my list of people to invite around for evenings of wine, laughter and dance, usually in that order.

So the friend department wasn’t lacking but I was low in something. 102 year old Dr Gladys McGarey in her book The Well-Lived Life calls it your juice; I was low on juice.
Your juice is something that sparks you, something that you alone exist for, your purpose for being alive.

The Well Lived Life by Dr Gladys McGarey

It took time to recognise this, time to allow the kids to settle (one year and eight months to be precise) and time to feel ready to venture out beyond our neighbourhood and claim a corner of Stockholm just for me.
I reactivated my Facebook account (the main social media platform used here) and joined groups that sounded relatable.

Expat English Speaking Moms for instance but chats about where to get new buggy wheels and which playschool is highly rated just didn’t do anything for me.
Next I tried Creative People Meet Ups in Stockholm but unfortunately me leaving my family on a Saturday afternoon to meet a group of 20 something year olds in the park to “Drink and Draw” didn’t sit well with my husband.

All the while, well intentioned meddling continued from afar.

-Have you found your own thing yet? Away from Philip and the kids? Would you try a pottery making class or something?

-No, I’d be thinking, would you?
Instead I’d smile and nod,
-Yeah, that’s an idea alright.

God I missed their abrupt remarks though, the over interest in each other’s lives. It pushed me to question myself.

With my children taking their first baby steps into independence, I had some time to think. Where did I feel juiciest?

Creating and producing New Fish A Musical with a group of geniuses in Smock Alley Theatre was one of the most personally rewarding experiences of my life. Its promising future was stunted by covid; my motivation for it was stunted by baby number three and our move to Stockholm left me with an empty glass, not a drop, bone dry.

Workshopping New Fish in a Fishamble New Play Clinic with Ross O’Connor, Conor Hanratty and Claire Tighe

I had started writing again which sparked a reminder of what it was to feel connected to a universal energy source. An article I wrote was shared by the Irish Swedish Society which led me to finding the amateur theatre group, Spuds and Sill, who were to tackle the great huge song and dance of a play “Dancing at Lughnasa” in all its complexities and charm for their annual spring production this year. It was a sign.

When I was seven, my Uncle Fergus took me to see Aunty Rosaleen in Dancing at Lughnasa on the Abbey stage, I was enamoured. From that moment on, I wanted to perform. My creative little soul found a way of expressing all its juicy outpours of emotion and enthusiasm for life. Just like my Aunty Rosaleen and those 5 women whooping and hollering and kicking up on stage, I could let it all out.

Caring for babies, moving countries, this all took priority over my love of theatre. Here was an opportunity to drink juice.

We rehearsed on Monday evenings for three months, not nearly enough time but we pulled it together and put on a show. They were a mad bunch to be fair, different ages, some Swedish some Irish, all there to put their trust in a group of people, to commit to something and see it through.

Spuds and Sill crew and cast for Dancing at Lughnasa May 2023

The National in London also ran a production of Dancing at Lughnasa in May. We shared pictures of the production in our what’s app group and joked about which production we would rather be in. I was about to message,
-I would leave you all high and dry for a chance to be in the National.
When a message from Maria came first,
-I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Four of the Mundy Sisters on stage at Olympiateatern

Olympiateatern in Stockholm, a little black box theatre with exposed piping and mismatched seating where 5 sisters from Donegal whooped and hollered and let it all out filled my glass full of juice. If it’s dry again, just point me towards a theatre.