Went to see “Sea Wall/A Life” on Broadway on Monday. First of all, I loved how easy and inexpensive it was to jump on a subway and see a show now that we are in Brooklyn. It was also nice to bring back “Date night Monday,” something Chris and I used to have back before my life got swept up into the “seminary years” followed by suburban life where most places are closed on Mondays.

The show was actually two plays and each was a monologue. The theatre was intimate and late comers were hard to ignore as the actor paused his monologue to wait for them to be seated. Ushers insisted that all cell phones be powered down, not just silenced. Usually during a show or movie I check my phone for the time. It says a lot that in the 45 minute time span of each show, I didn’t wonder what time it was.

The first play was, Sea Wall. Tom Sturridge did a great job describing the drop from the deep to the great dark deep in the ocean. And then his words led us into the deep with a gratuitously tragic story. Is there such a thing a grief porn? I never actually let myself go fully into the story because it was too horrific.

A Life was better. Jake Gyllenhaal is a phenomenal actor and moved me to tears. It hit close to home with the regrets, heartache, and never ending sense of loss, particularly when his daughter was born. What happens when we find ourselves between generations. Am I a daughter, mother, grandmother? He even makes a connection with his dad’s love of “Imagine,” a song we played at my father’s funeral. I miss my dad so much and know he would have adored his great-granddaughter. The show left me feeling melancholy.

Life and Death. Joy and Sorrow. Comedy and Tragedy. Regret and Gratitude. Do we need tragic stories to elicit deep emotion? Comedy is at the other end of the spectrum and belly laughs are important but does comedy help joy rise to the surface?

What are the elements of storytelling that can elicit deep joy?