I recently attended the very first night of a new production at the theatre.

The lead actor was having terrible trouble remembering his lines.

You could see it in his fixed concentration; in the way he stared straight ahead, not responding to the other performers. You could hear it in his hesitations; in the unusual rhythm of his delivery.

There was clearly only one thought on his mind:

‘What’s my next line? What’s my next line? What’s my next line?’

And then, eventually, the inevitable happened: words failed him.

There was a brief pause, a stunned silence, and, with a look of defeat, he called out into the darkness:

‘Line!’

A voice from off-stage read a prompt in a flat voice.

The actor continued, somewhat disconsolate. And we spent the rest of the play willing him to make it to the end.

Poor bloke.

'Happiness: being able to forget or, to express in a more learned fashion.'
Friedrich Nietzsche

I found myself imagining how splendid it would be if, in everyday life, one could summon an elegant phrase, a witty remark, an insightful comment, with the simple exclamation of the word ‘Line!’

Alas we are reduced to the ‘inarticulate speech of the heart.’

I was also reminded of the times at work when I was completely tongue tied - occasions that haunt my dreams to this day.

It’s a critical meeting, a pivotal pitch. I’m well drilled and thoroughly rehearsed. I’m up for the challenge, ready for the test. All eyes are upon me.

And yet suddenly my mouth dries, my vision blurs and my mind empties.

What on earth was I planning to say here?

Over the years I established that the best response to forgetting one’s lines is to set aside the script; to improvise and ad lib; to look to your team.

Sometimes a fumbled explanation can come across as more authentic; a muddled articulation can seem more personal, more heartfelt, than a precisely worded, pre-scripted, line.

Every stumble is not a fall.

'The great enemy of communication, we find, is the illusion of it. We have talked enough; but we have not listened. And by not listening we have failed to concede the immense complexity of our society—and thus the great gaps between ourselves and those with whom we seek understanding.'
William H Whyte

The morning after my trip to the theatre, I related the story of the actor who forgot his lines to Doriano at his coffee van. I observed that it was all a little melancholy, because the performer was an elderly gentleman. His memory must be failing.

I set off back home, only to be summoned back by Doriano. I’d forgotten to take my latte with me…

’Inarticulate speech, inarticulate speech of the heart.
I'm a soul in wonder.
I'm a soul in wonder.
Inarticulate speech, inarticulate speech of the heart.
I'm a soul in wonder.
A soul in wonder.'

Van Morrison, 'Inarticulate Speech of the Heart No. 2'

No. 476