Was it walking an hour through the park and my old neighborhood to get to the theater, and running into Naomi and Jill and Hannah and Eva, and then Glenn and Hana along the way?
Was it getting to be inside a church I've seen from the outside for 10 years, and discovering that it's gorgeous, capacious, light, and VERY multi-purpose?
Was it the sight of Michael Barakiva in his red apron, as he was about to serve up 10 hours of theater, along with two gourmet meals?
Was it the moment the Upstart Creatures started to perform all 12 books of Paradise Lost?
Was it sneaking out to read the synopsis in the middle of the first act (the first three books) because I was super lost, but coming back in feeling quite found, and suddenly following the story much much better?
Was it the first meal break, which was high tea? Noticing the meta-experience of (having pre-decided to eat and drink anything I wanted to, without worrying about if it contained caffeine, wheat, or sugar —three things I normally avoid) drinking a delicious blend of Harney's (caffeinated) Diamond Jubilee tea, and eating scrumptious tea sandwiches and little cakes, including an apple cake—my forbidden fruits—IN THE GARDEN during the 10-hour reading of Paradise Lost? ***DING DING DING! This one wins.***
Was it the growing understanding that in Milton's hands, Adam and Eve in the garden are metaphors for the oblivious middle class, who don't know how come they have it so good?
Was it the shifting light coming through the stained glass windows over the course of 10 hours?
Was it the moment I walked into the space that had previously hosted high tea, now transformed into a banquet hall with apples and votives at every place setting?
Or maybe the moment, at midnight, that the actors read the final words of the poem.
They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,
Through Eden took thir solitarie way.
And we clapped, and Michael wept a little, and we went out into the night to walk home. Paradise found.