Pulse: What Happens When We Stop Performing and Tell the Truth
The cast of Pulse: The Heart Project at Teatro Casa Tanicho in Merida, Mexico part or the live theatre in Merida.
When I first joined Pulse, I didn’t realize how deep we were about to go. I knew we’d be writing, but I didn’t know we’d be excavating. I definitely didn’t know we’d end up shaping those stories into a live reading and offering them, unguarded, to an audience for a live theatre performance.
Surface Level Wasn’t Going to Work
At the beginning, I assumed it would be reflective writing. You know, life stuff and feelings. The kind of work you do quietly, maybe share with a friend, then write about it in a journal. But once we started talking about performance and reading these pieces out loud, it became clear that surface-level honesty wouldn’t hold- not on a stage in a room full of people.
So it forced me to go deeper.
For the past ten months, a small group of us has been writing, revising, and rehearsing together, shaping our individual stories into one cohesive experience. We’ve written about love and heartbreak, grief and loss, war, responsibility, identity, and the moments that change the trajectory of a life. The full human range without the neat resolutions we’re often expected to offer.
This Was Never Just Writing
Pulse is MID Kid’s first adult production, and it feels important that it is. There’s something different that happens when you remove the expectation to soften things for younger audiences. What emerges instead is clarity. Weight. Truth without translation.
“The idea for Pulse came from a shared craving for something deeper than small talk. Deeper than the roles we play for each other. We wanted to create a space where we could show up as full people, not curated versions of ourselves.” Says Tauny Durruthy, Director and Owner of MID Kid Productions.
At its core, Pulse is a question:
What happens when we stop performing and start telling the truth?
My working hypothesis is simple: Truth builds stronger bonds and it creates room for real connection. That it allows people not just to witness each other, but to recognize themselves in the process.
Video of sound check before the live performance.
What Happens When You Stop Performing
As a participant, this journey has been a lot. Emotional at times, yes, but more than anything, it’s been worth the climb. Writing has always been an outlet for me, a place to sort through what doesn’t have language yet. Pulse asked me to dig into experiences I once promised myself I’d never revisit, let alone speak out loud. I won’t pretend that was easy. But I will say it was necessary.
What surprised me most wasn’t just the individual courage it took to write these pieces. It was the collective bond that formed as we built the show together. There’s a particular kind of closeness that comes from holding each other’s stories and listening without fixing. Even when things got emotional we stayed present even though it was uncomfortable at times. It’s not something most people get to experience and it’s changed the way I understand culture and entertainment.
The Truth on Stage
My hope is that when people come to see Pulse, they feel a sense of that togetherness not just as spectators, but as participants in their own inner reflection. You don’t have to share our experiences to be moved by them, you just have to be willing to listen.
