On the recommendation of an actress friend, I attended Squeeze My Cans at the Fillet of Solo Festival over a recent weekend. As the festival name implies, it was a one-woman show. It was staged with minimal props and optimal heart and energy.

The solo piece recounts how Cathy Schenkelberg, a voice-over actress, got into Scientology and – eventually — got out.

I remember Spalding Gray’s late ‘80s tour de force movie monologue, Swimming to Cambodia. It’s hard to believe a single voice could so completely capture your attention for over an hour, but, like his account of working on the film, The Killing Fields, Schenkelberg’s personal narrative more than held my attention for its 87 minute run time.

I considered that such a contract, willingly listening to a stranger talk about their life, without interruption, for an extended period, requires some type of hook.

To say that I’ve never imagined a life within a cult such as Scientology would be an understatement. Though I’d usually be quick to dismiss flirtations with any community that promised empowerment as it drained your checking account – DRAINED you in so many ways — I was surprised by how much sympathy I felt for her twenty-something year old self when she first opted in.

She was a creative struggling to forge a career in very competitive world. I could understand the appeal of belonging to a tribe that gave her access to certain opportunities and even forced her to reflect on her life, something that wasn’t part of her early psychic diet.

I’m sure she couldn’t write or tell others about her experience until there was some time and distance between the threat of other members filing knowledge reports on her and her carefully choreographed getaway.

Crystallizing the insights and ironies from a period of your life into a work of art that could touch others is worthwhile. Speaking these words out loud is downright noble. I found myself laughing and crying with her.

And it made me think about my own hero’s journey.

Doesn’t everyone face the same challenge? How can you survive as YOURSELF, as the person you know yourself to be, amid ill-suited jobs or disappointing love affairs or non-supportive families or …(fill in the blank).

So while Cathy marched up and down the small stage and tiers of seats in the black box theatre, I knew she had a lighting person and sound person and house manager to make sure some things didn’t derail. I knew she had the critical eye and support of a very engaged director and friends who wanted to see her perform her story.

I also know that performing Squeeze My Cans was something she did – and had to do – alone.

Towards the end of the piece, she mentioned how important it was to forgive herself for making decisions that gave her such an experience.

I know that struggle only too well, embracing every aspect of your life, when you’d prefer things were easier.

I felt very uplifted and grateful to be in her audience, to stand up at the end and applaud. I appreciated the ALL of it; her story, her telling of it, the message of self-forgiveness. The courage we put into our own stories.

Remembering that we’re all doing a solo act – together – is no small thing.