There is a fabulous play on at the Old Vic in London. I can’t urge you to go and see it as it finishes on Saturday and the run is sold out…unless of course you find yourself on Broadway in the new year where it transfers. It is Eugene O’Neill’s final play: A Moon for the Misbegotten that was produced posthumously and is a triumph of compassion and humanity over poverty, oppression and alcoholism. It is tender, raw and humorous simultaneously as it rushes from one hidden truth to the other as the plot slowly unwinds and as nothing turns out to be as it appears.
It struck me at Christmas we should look for moons for our own misbegotten: whether they are ideas, plans, or people. And just remember nothing is as simple as it may appear and in the complex twists of corporate life being a moon for the misbegotten may be thankless but is, nevertheless, supremely valuable.