As past and present experiences retranslate memory and place, they form a new and
different experience of that place. The way that we experience place in the present
is never the same experience as that had in the past, and they are always at odds.
Truitt, A.
Vol. 45, No. 2 (Fall 2013), pp. 82-84
Truitt’s words ring true in this particular Third Place, The Playhouse. The more time you spend somewhere, the greater the chance of a spectrum of emotions and memories becoming entwined with said place. Some hopeful, satiating and positive – others that represent parcels of the past you’d rather put away forever. However, it’s within our agency to reclaim a space – with the meaning that it represents being forever fluid and changing. One more time around, begin again.
The Playhouse Theatre has been going for thirty years, accelerating to the point of becoming an undisputed Norwich institution. Some come for the variety of shows put on in the theatre, others for the range of local ales at the bar, and many come to work in the day, putting the world to rites over a filter coffee. Many use it for all of the above and more.
It represents a hub of creativity in this UNESCO City of Literature. People are afforded the opportunity to be themselves. Many students from the nearby University of the Arts frequent the bar in the day, other regulars stop in for a quick coffee and moment of contemplation over whatever they’re reading. Everything coalesces to provide a space as vibrant and diverse as the city itself. A microcosm.
Coffee and quiet with your chosen people.
Personally, I’ve got an array of memories in this place. I’ve had relationships blossom and die in the realms of the courtyard. I’ve sat for beers with friends talking about the war of attrition in our work-life, scheming for ways to bring more meaning to our occupations. I’ve had pals blunder their way into the same courtyard and expel the previous round of drinks. Apologies for that particular image, but its a universal one. As you can see, there are a wealth of memories and impressions a place can hold, constantly vacillating between joy and agony – moments of intense laughter, moronic anecdotes and the more painful moments that make up our lives.
Did I mention it’s less than two quid for a filter coffee?
However, one memory stands above the rest. The Playhouse was the place in which I last saw a dear friend of mine alive. The conversations we shared in the courtyard that night will likely forever roam around the halls of my mind. Due to that pain, I’ve been avoiding this space and everything it began to represent. I’ve been avoiding the city entirely.
The persistent reliance on psychological avoidance bears a heavy toll.
Marques, L. Ph.D. Psychology Today (2023)
As someone that suffers from OCD, in which the most viable and common compulsion is avoidance, I cannot attest enough to the veracity of Maques’ statement. In a bid to avoid pain and discomfort, you avoid any situation that may compel difficult emotions to appear. Your world becomes infinitesimally small. You become segregated from the activities, people and places you value most. This only compounds the misery.
What would my friend think? She was the embodiment of community, creativity, she seemed to weave Norwich together – connecting a web of friends from all walks of life. She would want me to conduct myself in the same manner – not give up on a space and city entirely. With her in mind, I’ve been trying to take small steps to reclaim this space and this city. To imbue it with positive memories. To acknowledge that joy and pain can coexist, side by side.
How does one achieve that? I think it’s two-fold – reside in the present moment and take refuge in your values, allow them to guide where you spend your time and who you spend it with. When writing this article, a local man came over and said ‘Make sure you take a picture of the fish-tank!’. That small sliver of interaction warmed me. I did as he said and appreciated the fish as they went about their day, the same as me and everyone else in there.
Not sure I did the critters justice, there.
The more I got out of my own head and appreciated the space, I saw my values reflected. Creativity was plastered on the walls via the zines and shows advertised, the strength of the local scene was expressed in the intricate designs of the benches by local artists, the affordable drinks showed a priority for fairness and access. Community, creativity and connection. It’s all there, if you look.
Spaces and the people we share them with can become living and tangible markers of what we value. They anchor us physically to a place in the world. I belong here, this is me. It’s up to us to choose the spaces that reflect our interior. Values, like spaces and their meaning, aren’t fixed – they are ever-changing. As you learn and grow, what you value will change. That change will determine where you elect to plant yourself and spend your time. For now, I will keep choosing the spaces that prioritise connection, community, creativity and fairness. It’s the least I can do to honour the memory of my friend and the place we shared.
Comments
This is great! I love The Playhouse, great third place choice.