My Education script
Every person with a body is a secret historian.
You are 31 years old. Your first marriage has just fallen apart. You have an 18-month-old son and no regular job. You are the author of three small books of poetry but haven’t written a poem in more than a year, and are coming to understand that you will never be able to write again.
A friend invites you to a rehearsal in a forgotten part of the city, where the dancers fill with you an ancient joy. Whenever they stop, the director tries to explain what can never be put into words. But the dancers carry you to an unexplored place within yourself, and little by little, you feel an old debt leave you.
You walk away that evening knowing you can write again, and the new words flow smoothly and without effort. The old wounds were like a screen that kept you from the world. Now even the face of the man sitting next to you in the subway appears as it really is, infinite.