Edinburgh 2022: Myra Dubois Guest Blog

With her unique brand of kindness and a wit sharper than a scalpel, Myra Dubois offers to heal the wounds of the world weary. Here she discusses how she's made therapy into a artform for other to watch and why she's uniquely qualified to offer advice.

As I type this, dear AdMyras, I'm sitting by the window in my fully-serviced apartments in Leith Lower New Town as the Edinburgh Fringe is in full swing for the first time in three years. I've time to reflect. Reflect on who I was when I was last here in 2019 and who I am today. Am I wiser? It's hard to tell. I've been sage from birth. But this much is true: something is different.

Back in 2019 I was simply a multi-award-winning star of stage and screen. My public wanted one thing from me: entertainment, and who was I to deny them? My 2019 show "Dead Funny" was my funeral, and I had every intention to perform the show, stage my public death and retire to a third property somewhere lovely on the Yorkshire coast to concentrate on me, to think of myself (for once).

Then 2020 arrived, and by March the world was... well, I'm sure you're aware. I felt the call of my public on the wind, but it was different. No longer in need of entertainment, it was, can I say it? A bit needy. Pathetic, if I'm being totally honest. A distress flair had been shot into the ether and my cosmic receptors were picking it up. "Help us, Myra", said the signal. "We're in distress."

Immediately I abandoned my plans for a quiet retirement and raced back to my London residence, Myra Towers (in an undisclosed South London location), plonked myself down in front of my mid-centaury hospitality (with original features) unit and got to work. I streamed every Wednesday at 8pm with 'A Problem Shared', solving the woes of the public. Some say I single handily boosted international morale across the lockdowns. Not me, I'd never say that. So don't insinuate that those are my words because they aren't, but it is true. I noticed I had a gift for healing. Made possible, no doubt, by my own self-help work conducted with my personal wellness Guru, the Dr. Rev. Guru Malcolm (whose Wellness Detention Centre in tranquil Blackpool I am no stranger to).

And so, we move forward. February 2022. I was sat idly watching my sister, Rose Lavender, buffering my gongs in the trophy room in a post-omnicrom daze when the Myra-phone rang in the hall. It was a member of my team.

"Want to do the Fringe again, Myra?" said the team member, in a slightly over-familiar tone.

"Yes!" came my reply. How could I not? With my new gift I knew that the public needed an in-person laying of my healing hands. Not to mention the Celebrity Wellness Seekers that drop by for my pearls during our sessions.

And so here I am. By the window in my fully serviced apartments in Leith Lower New Town, contemplating the challenges ahead. Is there another Agony Aunt in the game with my background in showbiz? Does anyone else know what the masses want, and what they need, like I? I think not.

So join us in the Dairy Room at Underbelly, Bristo Square, every day at 19:45 (with the expectation of the 16th, my day off, although you are welcome to stand outside and pine). No subject too taboo, no quagmire too trivial. I'm here to help. Because a problem shared is (say it with me) what? Content.

Photo credit: Holly Revell

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