significant presence

I'm proud to be part of something where the ethos is not to charge people to attend, making it accessible to much more people. However, the downside is that, living in a culture where money often equals value, if we haven't paid for something, we're perhaps less likely to prioritise it. And so people readily book tickets as it's not cost them anything to do so, only then might not come, cos they've forgotten, or something else comes along. I suspect if we've paid £20 for a ticket we're less likely for that to be the case.
I also think people perhaps don't realise how significant their presence is. This for me is a general assessment of life, but in the HUG performance it's noticably true! As it's a one to one performance, if someone doesn't come that performer is without a huggee. Last night I got to hug myself and hold my arms wide to the whole room, so it wasn't wasted, but it's much better to have someone feeling the love directly :)
Of course there are always really good reasons why people can't make it at the last minute, I know that and hope the hug vibes reached those planning to come but then not able to make it. I also know there are people who would love to have come but because of distance, work, or other commitments, can't make it. And of course for lots of people, it's really Not Their Thing :)
I'm particularly pleased tho to discover a friend is now coming to the "friends and family" performance as I was feeling a bit like Billie-no-mates having not needed to request any tickets for anyone. Tho much of the joy comes from hugging strangers who don't ever get to see who we are :D
There are 5 performances today and I really hope every seat is filled. And to those of you not coming, here's a big HUG :D


Wow, just wow.
Feeling incredibly moved. And so privileged to have been part of something so intense.
Glad I have a quiet reflective hour alone before the kids return for their own hugs.

Still have the sounds reverberating in my ear. I hope they don't go, I don't want to ever forget the clashy harmonies. I feel strange, maybe what my friend would call a vulnerability hangover.