Mirror mirror on the wall

What, exactly, happens when we look in a mirror? And I don't mean 'how does that magic glass show me my face' I mean why, when faced with my own reflection does every iota of kindness and care that dwells in my heart bury itself in my deepest recesses, resolutely refusing to make itself useful?

Generally, I would describe myself as an optimist. I'm of the 'cheer up, it may never happen' club (feel free to hate me). I cross bridges when I come to them, and chalk embarrassing incidents up to experience (after dwelling on them longer than is strictly healthy and indulging in a bit of emotional self-flagellation, you understand). I always look for the good in a situation, and try my very hardest to look for the best in people.

So, why doesn't this translate to me? When I take stock, or do something wrong, or even just look at myself in the mirror, why does all of that desert me?

I spend a worrying amount of my life feeling like an utter fraud. I am always the first to qualify and apologise for everything I do... "yes, I sing, but I'm not outstanding", "yes, I'm an actor, but I'm not very good", "yes, I swim, but I'm really slow". I'm secretly convinced that one day someone is going to look up in the middle of the rehearsal and say "Sorry Teg, time's up. You've had your fun now go and get a real job and let those of us who can actually do this get on with it". I'm bound to be discovered some day, and not in the "hey, kid, come be in my movie" kind of way. In the "I've just realised you really haven't got a clue what you're doing", found-out, kind of way.

But then, occasionally, just occasionally, something happens which makes you think that maybe what you see in yourself isn't - shall we say - entirely objective.

On Friday I am speaking at a youth conference run by a theatre in Chichester on 'how to be an actor'. I was called by a friend who works in their education department, explaining that they wanted an actor to come and talk to the young people about what's involved in getting into my line of work, and what it's like once you're there. You know the drill, dispel a few myths, crush a few dreams, that kind of thing. The thing was, they wanted someone who had, and I quote, "worked hard to get where they were, were on their way, and successful". I nearly fell over.

Last night, (and this is a snippet from a very long and boring story - so take it for granted there is a context, but I shouldn't ask about it if I were you!) I was singing in a bar in London, and I belted out a decent enough rendition of New York New York, which got cheers and applause a-plenty, including - astoundingly - heartfelt plaudits from a jazz pianist who was watching. A Ronnie Scott's regular who'd stopped me in my tracks when he had taken to the keys earlier in the evening. And again, I was stunned.

Me? Really?!

Isn't it funny how we decide what we can do, and then do our level best to stick to those limitations? Perhaps it's time to put aside the preconceptions and find out just exactly what I'm capable of. Because when you reach one rung of excellence, it's only a short leap to the next, and the next, and so on.

I recently heard someone say "if you can dream it, you can do it". An admirable sentiment, but possibly just a little saccharine for what I'm driving at, but how about we settle on "imagine what you could be capable of if only you would let yourself try"

I think I've got a new mantra.

xx