A night at the theatre can surprise you. Sometimes it entertains, sometimes it unsettles, and every now and then it offers a performance of such depth and mastery that you walk away changed. Watching Noni Hazlehurst perform The Lark was one of those moments. A single woman on stage, in her early seventies, holding an entire room in the palm of her hand with nothing but her voice, her presence, and her craft. It was mesmerising. It was a privilege.
Noni has long been woven into Australia’s cultural fabric – Play School, Better Homes and Gardens, June Again, Monkey Grip, her recent book ‘Dropping The Mask’ – but seeing her alone on stage, carrying a one‑woman monologue with such ease, revealed something more profound. She didn’t perform like this in her teens. This wasn’t just talent. This was the result of decades of honing, stretching, failing, learning, and rising again. Witnessing the performance was inspiring because it reminded me of other people I know who bring a whole different level of competence to their lives.
And here’s the thing: Noni isn’t the only woman doing amazing things with skill. I see it in women from all walks of life – small business owners, teachers, counsellors, social workers, artists, administrators, parents – people who show up every day and do what they’re good at with a kind of unassuming brilliance. They probably don’t think it’s extraordinary. Surely everyone does this? But no – they don’t.
Living this way requires confidence. Finding your “thing” in life, the work that feels like an extension of who you are, is worth pursuing. Because when you do what you love it feels like contribution and like life, not draining work.
I sit with clients who are rebuilding after divorce or the death of a partner, people who suddenly don’t know who they are anymore. Circumstances have dismantled their identity. But this disorientation, painful as it is, also holds possibility. It’s an invitation to rediscover what lights them up, what they’re good at, what they want their life to mean. It’s a chance to build again with their values in mind and with intention. The chance to build a good life for themselves where they shine; a life that is an extension of their identity and that uses their talents in a way that aligns with their values.
A good life doesn’t fall into our laps. It’s crafted. It’s tended. It’s shaped through years of mistakes, growth and grit. But it is absolutely possible. Watching Noni reminded me of that. She stood there, a woman fully inhabiting herself, and it made me think that this power, this sense of being at home within ourselves is available for all of us.
