There is a joke I like about an actress playing the nurse in Romeo and Juliet. Someone ask her what the play is about.

Now the nurse is a nice part for an older woman. She gets a few laughs. She’s seen a thing or two and she voices the things the audience longs to hear – so we like her. But let’s face it, she only has a few scenes and she’s not Juliet. She probably gets one costume and the chances are it’s a tabard, along with some sort of uncomfortable and slightly insane-looking headdress, a thing with horns and a veil.

Anyway, the actress thinks very carefully about how best to summarize the plot of Romeo and Juliet and then she says, ‘Well, it’s all about this nurse . . .’

We are at the centre of our own stories. And sometimes it is hard to believe that we are not at the centre of other people’s. But I love the fact that you can brush past a person with your own story, your own life, so big in your mind at the same time be a simple passer-by in someone else’s. A walk-on part. (p 9, Foreword)

 

Be a simple passer-by rather than being a main character. Even in your own life.