My journey to Listen to Your Mother started three years ago, on a whim of filling a bucket list item – auditioning in The City for something.
I sent an email off to the good folks in NYC for an audition slot. I got one. J and I went into the city. I read, full of fear and nervous energy. We ate, then wandered a smidge, and drove home.
I wasn’t chosen.
So the next year, I emailed Northern Jersey. I drove over by myself, auditioned, and drove home.
I wasn’t chosen.
Then, this past year, instead of emailing for an audition, I emailed to see if it was too late to submit to be a HOST.
Ann connected me with Kirsten Piccini of The Kir Corner. I reached out to Kristina Grum and we added her to our hastily pulled together application on the last possible day.
Then, we prayed.
We were approved as a new city and we held our show this past Sunday.
I started this journey on a whim, full of nervous energy, determined to live outside my comfort zone.
This past weekend, I flew well beyond my comfort zone and read to a nearly packed house after working tirelessly with Kirsten and Kristina to bring together an amazing cast and show for the Lehigh Valley.
There is a magic to Listen To Your Mother, one which lives deep inside the heart. It’s a magic found in the words of stories of mothers, it is magic centered in the hopes and dreams of those who are falling toward the ground and building their wings as the earth rushes closer to them. The magic – it is enduring, it is powerful, and it does not end when you take that bow at the end of your show and the applause fades away.
It’s there, in the pictures, in the new friendships, in the new avenues opened to you when you are surrounded by amazing and driven people you meet through the entire process.
After our show on Sunday, I ran into a woman who auditioned for us but we ultimately had to turn down as her piece didn’t fit the arc of our show. I hugged her just as tightly as any of our cast – and she hugged me right back. THIS is part of the magic.
Because now? My comfort zone has been stretched and I have a LONG way to go to reach the life outside of it.
Here goes nothing.