Expect a Miracle

Art, Community, and the Entrepreneurial Spirit

I am often moved to write when I've been part of a collaborative theatre project.  This time, it has taken me a bit longer to put pen to paper or fingers to the keyboard.  This time, I was part of something that was extraordinary in ways that I could have never anticipated or imagined.  A very dear friend told me that he believes that we should go through life "expecting a miracle".  That is what happened this winter on The 1776 Project.

This time, a group of wonderfully talented and dedicated people came together and created something magical, something that moved a community and created real meaning for the people who experienced the performance.  Many people have asked me how I pulled it off?  How did I bring this disparate group of people together and create such magic?

Well, I expected a miracle.  I have spent a good portion of my business career working at early-stage companies for some wonderful entrepreneurs.  I learned from them what it is to believe in a vision and assemble a team to make it happen.  I learned from them about not giving up even when confronted with obstacles and bumps. And there were definitely bumps.  There were people who dropped out, who couldn't stay with the project.  There were actors who were sick and actors that missed rehearsals. There were the normal challenges with the design team.  Mercifully, there were no significant weather challenges which was it's own miracle since we are in Vermont and the show opened at the end of March.  All in all, we weathered all of the small storms and managed to get a cast of 26 humans along with a crew of 12 to stay on their feet through a three-week run.

Expect a miracle.  In this particular project, our goals were very ambitious.  We set out to spur a conversation in the community and to engage with kids and adults around the very important issues in the play.  We invited local politicians and thought leaders to participate in talk-backs after every show. And our audiences stayed for the conversation.  The feedback from patrons has been extraordinary.  They went home and re-read books about our Founding Fathers.  They engaged with their families and friends in meaningful discussions about civics, and race and what it means to be an American.  The story is not all peaches and cream.  There were real compromises that were made in order to birth this great country. And everyone involved in the project explored that part of the story very thoughtfully.

We essentially built something from nothing.  We had no company, we had no team, we had no real support at the outset.  But we had an idea that we believed in.  We were able to convince some very generous funders to support our vision.  We began to talk about the idea and everywhere we went, people would nod and begin to get excited.  While many of the people who came out to audition and to work on the production were known to me, many were not.  There is a long list of people who simply appeared and got on board.  That's what happens when you expect a miracle.
It would have been so easy to say- whoa, this is going to be way too hard.  Who will do all of this work? Who will we get to play these very challenging roles?  Are there enough accomplished actors and singers to make this happen?  If we're planning to do community outreach, who's going to do THAT work?   And how are we going to assemble a group of musicians for the pit?  Who's going to run our spotlights and our soundboard?  But we started recruiting a team, and as the energy grew, the team grew.  When we began marketing the show, the word of mouth started to spread.  As the actors became more confident in the quality of the show, they began to spread the word with enthusiasm.  And then when our audiences left the theatre, they told their friends. The word spread.  Miracles do that. We sold out 8 out of 10 performances.  And we built something really special.  Sadly these pop-up communities are a bit ephemeral.  Actors often mourn when a show is over.  The cast and crew become like family and it's hard to replace that when it's over.

The 1776 Project is now behind us.  The gratitude that I feel knows no bounds.  And now we turn our sights to the next project.  It'll have something to do with talking to each other and with celebrating our unique stories.  And yup.. you guessed it.  Once again, we'll start out expecting a miracle.

The Dirty Little Secret About Grandparents

There are so many times in life when people say to you-  Just you wait!  Just you wait until you stand on the rim of the Grand Canyon. Just you wait until you lay eyes on your first child.  Just you wait until you see Hamilton on Broadway.  The list goes on and on.  I have heard the same refrain from a number of friends about becoming a grandparent.

I remember a conversation a year or so with a wonderful theatre director/friend.  My daughter was newly pregnant and I was bemoaning a lack of focus in my life since leaving my company. I confessed to feeling a bit adrift.  She looked at me knowingly and said- just you wait.  Everything will change when that grand baby arrives. Okay. Sure. I guess. It's kind of hard to imagine it before it happens.  And then I recalled conversations with dear friends who were absolutely, positively smitten, over the moon,  in love with their grands.   This was not, mind you, just confined to women.  I've seen male friends equally nutty and deliriously in love with their next generation of small fry.

So now it's been my turn.  The day finally arrived when my sweet little Mabel entered our lives.  I  had the privilege of spending two months taking care of her.  To put into words the indescribable elation that I have experienced has been difficult for me.  I have shed more than my share of tears without really understanding why.  It is well documented that my heart lives just below the surface so it doesn't take much to send tears down my face. But this was something different than anything I'd ever experienced.  This felt biological or hormonal. I even asked friends if it was possible to have postpartum depression when you have a new grand baby.  I learned recently to my amazement that there is something very real that happens between mothers and their daughters and their babies.  There is an exchange of DNA between them that makes the experience truly biological.  It makes sense that a mother would pass down her DNA to her baby and that the baby would in turn share her DNA with her Mom.  I mean after all, she co-habitated inside your body for 9 whole months.  And then when your baby became a woman and had her own baby, the DNA exchange happened again, forever bonding the genetic thread from mother to mother.  This is not to diminish the power of parenting, no matter the circumstances, the gene pool, the family of origin.  When it comes to DNA exchange, fathers share their DNA too when they conceive a child. The difference is that they don't receive the DNA back from their children in the same way since they don't carry the baby.  I know, it all sounds a bit mumbo jumbo-ish.  This idea was shared with me by a friend so I have not researched it's veracity.  But it makes a lot of sense to me as it explains how profound the experience has been for me.


So after an intense two months of being the Granny Nanny, the full time caretaker for this morsel of deliciousness, I had to leave her.  I had to get in a car with my dog and drive back to Vermont, leaving her 2000 miles away.  The heartbreak was practically unbearable.  I have reflected on the fact that our society today has enabled us to move across the country, across the world to pursue our dreams. This often requires that we leave behind our family and friends.  There is something unnatural about that.  Of course I would never get in the way of either of my children's dreams and ambitions but when they start having babies, is it really necessary to be so far away?  Can't I just pop over occasionally for a hug and some play time?  Wouldn't it be great if we could visit and read books and sing songs? Wouldn't my sweet Mabel like to sit on my counter playing with measuring spoons while I bake some cookies?   Of course I am not alone.   There are legions of grandparents who drive away from their grand-children and weep.  They sit in their garages and weep.  They are depressed when the visits are over.  They cling to the photo stream and the memories and the videos of their grands.  And they are sad that the visits aren't more frequent.   There are some who are lucky enough to be close by.  They are the really lucky ones who jump at the invitation to come babysit, or to help out with all of the challenges of parenting and working and creating a strong, loving family.

The dirty little secret is that grandparents are really really sad when they say goodbye.  They yearn to be closer.  They weep.  It's good to know that I'm not actually going completely insane and to know that I am not alone.

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Anyone driving to Denver anytime soon?  Need a co-pilot?  Sign me up.

It's Christmas and I'm Back

A few years ago, I wrote a blog this time of year, reflecting on why I had lost my Christmas mojo.  I speculated that perhaps it had to do with my kids moving out. I dubbed it the lull between parenthood and grandparenthood.  I just wasn't feeling it.  I didn't really want to decorate my house or spend a lot of money on presents that no one needed.  I complained about decorating the house by myself.

But something incredible has happened. I have crossed over. I am back in the spirit and I attribute it to the newest gift in my life. I have a delicious baby grand.  I call her Mabelicious.   I am now a GramPear. I have been called Pear by many friends and family so it seems only fitting.  I was lucky enough to spend the last two months taking care of her as her Mom and Dad got ready to put her into daycare. Taking care of a baby is a tough gig, don't let me sugarcoat it.  But it got easier every day and by the time I was ready to head home, I was heartbroken. I was besotted and I was bereft.

So here's the Christmas miracle.  I'm back into celebrating the holiday.  I have holiday music playing full time.  From the Mormon Tabernacle choir to Pentatonix and everything in between.  I am a decorating fool.  I have every manner of Christmas lights up all over my house.  I am opening boxes of ornaments with new wonder and delight and recalling the stories that go with each one.   A friend told me a little known fact that the sooner you decorate for the holidays, the more you enjoy them.  And whether or not our house will be full of family and friends, I'm doing it for me. I'm doing it because it makes me feel warm and filled with the spirit.

I'm still not spending a lot of time shopping or buying presents.  I am all about getting rid of things, not accumulating them.  But buying presents for a small one is a wondrous experience.  And I still love the notion of gifting "experiences".  On Christmas night this year, we'll be in NYC and are going to see a Broadway show.  How much fun is that?  It'll be a different way to spend the holiday but I'm excited about it.

So if my newfound spirit is part of what this new chapter offers, bring it on.  I may have had to change my picture of what a holiday looks like.  But the best lesson I've learned is to do it for me. Do it because it makes me feel happy.  I wish all of my friends the same.

A Different Kind of Birthday

As I sat in the rocking chair tonight, with my sweet Mabel, wishing her to sleep, a dark shadow emerged from the hallway.  And then another.  It was Sydney, the black lab and Smooch my devoted blond lab, coming to make sure all was well. They plopped down on the floor in the nursery.  Always there. Always available.  Always attuned to me and my loved ones.  It was the end of a long day.  My new job, for now, is being the Granny Nanny.   This was not the birthday of years past.  There would be no dinner out with my dear husband or celebrations with my peeps at work.  A few times over the last few years, I have been lucky to be in rehearsal for a show so my birthday was celebrated by a big, larger than life, boisterous group of actors.  This year it was me and my grand baby and two Labrador retrievers. As usual, I enjoyed the bounty of a Facebook birthday where old friends from near and far, from this life and the lives before, resurfaced to send birthday greetings.  There is much to appreciate about what social media has allowed in our lives.  I love that annual tradition of reconnecting with so many.  Some of my friends posted that they hoped I was having a big party or celebrating with fervor. I have been known to be a bit of a party girl.  Hmmm.  Maybe not this year.

I got the usual phone calls from my family.  That’s kind of what we do.  We call each other and sometimes we sing happy birthday.  But I missed each call today as I attended to my sweet Mabel.  This is a different gig for sure.  It is consuming in ways that I didn’t imagine or managed to forget. I was happy to know that my family remembered me today but not unhappy that I was busy when the calls arrived. My husband, still in Vermont,  sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers that I will enjoy all week long.  I guess he misses me.

I had been in charge since 7:30 this morning when the kids went off to work and then to a rehearsal dinner for a wedding that they will be celebrating this weekend.  It was a long day but not without joyful moments.  What is better than teaching your first grand baby to sing Happy Birthday?  We sing and we sing a lot.  She seems to love it and of course so do I.

But my heart aches a bit for the life I had when life was overflowing with friends and colleagues and loved ones.  This experience of being in a different city, with a different family, albeit my own daughter, is a bit disorienting.  I am NOT complaining.  Not one bit.  But I am feeling the loss of my old life, in Vermont, in Boston, in business, with my a cappella group,  even at camp.  This year, it’s just me and the baby and the dogs.  I guess it’s all part of the passage of becoming a grandparent and leaving behind a busy work life, at least for now. 

Babies have an uncanny way of making us live in the moment.  Thankfully, they are not worrying about the stock market, or the shenanigans in our nation’s capital.  They eat, they sleep, they laugh, they sing and they appreciate the care that we shower on them.

That’s my gig for now.  Perhaps next year, I’ll throw a different kind of birthday celebration.  Who knows.  Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to celebrate with some of you.   

Smooch's Tales- Lost on the Trail in Colorado

I'm so excited that my Mom is letting me blog again.  I had another big adventure this weekend in Colorado.  We went up to the mountains to this place called Frisco.  And we went hiking every day. I. Love. Hiking! The trails are so beautiful here and there are lots of dogs on the trails.  You know how much I love meeting other dogs.  I especially love running through the woods.  You can't even imagine how many smells there are.  And there are creeks and little rivers to swim in.

Usually I run ahead of my humans because I am so excited.  My cousin, Sydney, is more grown-up than I am.  She always waits for my Mom, who is not the speediest hiker on the trail. Just sayin'.

So on Saturday my Aunt Ames and my Uncle Andy took me on a big hike on a trail called Ten Mile Creek Trail.  My Mom decided to do some other things. We had such a blast.  There were tons of dogs and people on the trail and even some kids.  I. Love. Kids.  And there was a rushing river near the trail.  It was kind of like a canyon but the water made it really hard to hear anything.   I ran ahead and met some new friends.  And before you knew it, I was kind of lost. I was a little bit worried.  It turns out that my Aunt Ames was really worried because she sat down on a rock and started crying.   She worried that she would have to call my Mom and tell her that I was lost.   Meanwhile, I met a very nice man who petted me and checked the tag on my collar.  I guess he was worried because it seemed that I was by myself and I was whining a bit. Remember I said that I was a little worried?  I guess I whine when I get worried.   So the nice man called my Mom's number that was on my tag. I just sat down on the trail for a rest.  I had been running pretty hard all day long.  I couldn't exactly hear the conversation but I guess my Mom told him that I had been hiking with Ames and Andy and she was going to try and call them and figure out where they were.  Before long Andy arrived at the spot where we were waiting.  He and Ames had been hiking behind me.  So while Ames cried, Andy just kept hiking until he found me.

Well that was a relief!  I was sorry that I worried my Mom and Ames but I still had a really fun time.  I just hope they keep taking me out on the trails.  It's about as much fun as a girl can have.

Smooch's Tales- Life is an Adventure

Author's Note:  One thing I learned on my recent cross-country trip is that having guest bloggers is a blast.  We actually penned our cross country blog- Ten Legs and a Tail- as a team.  So I've decided to invite another guest blogger to join me on this blog from time to time.  Meet Smooch.  

Life is an adventure

My view of the farm

Life has been pretty exciting lately.  I wasn't exactly sure what was happening back home in Vermont when my Mom started packing big duffle bags, my food, my dog bed and all of my toys.  But I'm always up for a new adventure so I decided to just wait and see what was in store.  On the day that she packed the car, I decided to sit on my back porch one last time.  I love sitting there in the sunshine, surveying my view and watching my chickens play in the yard.  Ah yes.  Life in the country is the best.  I get to walk in the woods almost every day and I get to chase chipmunks and be on the lookout for ground hogs.

Pretty soon, it was time to jump in the car so off we went, down to MA where we met some of our friends.  The next thing I knew, I was riding in this funny house on wheels.  It was kind of sweet.  There was room to walk around.  My dog bed sat on the floor right behind the two seats in the

Sleeping in my house on wheels

front of the moving house.  At first it was exciting but then it actually got kind of boring.  Mile after mile we travelled.  We stopped every once in a while to stretch our legs and with luck, I'd get to chase my ball in a new park or rest area.  I even got to go swimming a few times.  I swam in the Susquehanna River and in Lake Erie and we found some sweet ponds where I could dock dive.

Tied up at the campground. Boring.

There were times in my house on wheels when my Mom and her friends seemed kind of nervous and upset.  They kept talking about big trucks and scary things happening on the road.  But I mostly just slept.  In the night, we'd stop moving and I got to sleep on my Mom's bed with her.  Yup.  Life on the road.  I could get used to it.  We stopped at a couple of campgrounds that seemed a bit sketchy.  There were lots of dogs but everyone was on a leash and they didn't seem that friendly.  I just don't understand it when other dogs don't want to play with me.  I like to make friends
with just about everyone.

At any rate, I'm really happy that my Mom has invited me to contribute to her blog.  I actually think she has a secret desire to write a dog book some day.  She has read so many dog books, you wouldn't even believe it.  I feel like when she lets me blog, she is practicing for the day she will write her dog book.  I hope she does it because I bet I'll get to be in it.

I have lots of stories to share.  Like about when I learned to be a camp counselor last summer.  And how I am learning to be a really good babysitter for my baby, Mabel.  She is really cute.  She hasn't learned to throw the ball for me yet but I'm sure she will soon.  I keep trying to teach her.  I also learned this summer how to babysit for my cousin, Finn.  He is my cousin and is a golden retriever.  He's just a puppy so he needs to learn a lot of manners.  But I love playing with him so I'm fine being his babysitter.

Mabel

Finn

I'm living in an new house now that seems to be really far from Thetford.  I miss my Dad in Vermont. but I like it here.   It's a busy household with a lot of people to play with me.  My cousin, Sydney, a black lab, lives here and that is a blast!  We never met until I arrived at her house.  But now we all live together and best of all, we get to take care of Mabel.  Ah, Mabel.  Babies are the best.   I'll write more about Mabel in another post.  Thanks for reading.  Woof.

Ten Legs and a Tail. The Journey Ends.

Ten Legs and a Tail.. The final installment

Here’s what life on the road looks like.

Our epic journey has come to an end.  After driving 2181 miles, playing lots of quiddler (Annie won the most games and we’ll never hear the end of it) drinking lots of wine (what happens in the RV, stays in the RV), meeting lots of fun people and a few scary ones, it’s time to move on to the next adventure. 

Here are some of our favorite quotes-

"We are, after all, the bigger car."

"Are you changing lanes? just askin’."

As we pull into Abigail and Ryan’s neighborhood in Denver, Annie said, “So glad Ryan didn’t take the job in Santa Clara."

 If we captured your imagination and you’re dreaming of your own RV adventure, here’s our number one Pro Tip-  Don’t Do It.

But if you do, make sure you do it with people who you’re know you’re going to love no matter what happens.

Oh and Pro Tip #2- Bring your latex gloves and a face mask.  Until the next time.