5 Reasons to Take the Stage at Least Once

If you are reading this, you have already thought about the stage. Maybe more than once. Maybe you even know exactly what you want to say. But something is holding you back. It usually goes by the name "I'm not ready yet." Or "my level isn't good enough." Or simply "I'm scared."

Good. Let's talk about that.

Reason One. Because "Ready" Never Comes

Ask anyone who has ever taken the stage for the first time. In nine out of ten cases they will tell you: I didn't feel ready. I just went up. Or: friends pushed me. Or: it was an impulse decision at the event. Nobody ever says: I went up because I felt completely ready.

"Readiness" is a trap that lets you avoid doing anything for another year, two years, five. The text can always be improved. The voice can always be trained. But the only way to step onto the stage is to step onto the stage. Not when you feel ready. Just — by going.

Reason Two. The Stage Gives You What the Page Cannot

Text on a page or screen is silent. It waits for a reader who will come on their own. A live performance is different. You speak a line and it is in the air. You make a pause and it exists. You look at the room and the room looks back at you.

What happens between a reader and words in a poem is one thing. What happens between a person on stage and people in the room is entirely different. It is contact. Real. Direct. And that contact is not what you projected while writing alone. It is alive. Unpredictable. The only time.

Reason Three. Fear Is Not a Signal of Danger. It Is a Signal of Importance

Trembling before going on stage is normal. It does not mean you are not ready. It means what you are about to say matters to you.

Stage fright is one of the most universal human emotions. Maya Angelou had it. The unknown person who went on stage for the first time in their own city had it. The difference is that one of them stayed in history and the other did not. But the trembling was there for both.

At an open mic nobody expects you to be fearless. The room wants things to work out for you. A live performance with a trembling voice is worth more than a perfect performance with an empty one.

Reason Four. After the First Time You Become a Different Person

This is not an exaggeration. People who have taken the stage even once speak about one and the same thing: something clicked. Not in the sense of "became a star." In the sense of "understood this is possible."

When you say your words out loud to living people — they stop being only yours. They enter the world. Some part of you stays in that room even after you leave. And you go home a different person. Not improved. Different.

What you said out loud cannot be taken back. That is not frightening. That is precisely what makes the moment real.

Reason Five. Because Regret Is Worse Than Going Up

In a year, two years, five — you will not be thinking about how well you performed. You will be thinking about whether you performed at all. These are different questions.

Those who did not go up will also be thinking something. Usually: "maybe I could have." Whereas those who went up are usually thinking about something else. About what they want to say next time. About the next one.

Regret is information. It tells you something was there. That you wanted it but did not decide. And it will wait. Not forever, but longer than you think.

Poet Not Dead: Where the First Time Becomes Possible

The Poet Not Dead open mic in Bali is exactly the place where the first time is easiest of all. There is no jury, no grades, no competition. There is a room, a microphone, and people who came to listen. Not to judge — to hear.

The first time does not have to be perfect. It has to happen. Just step up and speak. The room will do the rest.

Announcements and event schedule at poetnotdead.com and on Telegram at @poetnotdead.