It Pays to be Delusional…
A memory: A dear one and I are walking along the water…
“Seeing is believing…” the dear one says to me. That is a lyric from Andrew Lloyd Webbers, “Aspects of Love.” And at first I say, “Yes, you have to see it to believe It.” And then I think, “Wait! No, that’s not true.” And then I try to explain why that lyric is actually problematic but they don’t hear me... “Not everyone thinks like you, Elizabeth.” We just keep walking. I keep thinking…
I am sitting at my piano playing through the 30 minute presentation I have prepared for an upcoming recovery conference. I am reminded of how much I love playing the piano. As I am playing through one of the songs, I see a notification on the phone. It is an email from one of the three actors performing in the presentation. “Sorry, Elizabeth, I am not able to participate in the performance…” It is 9 days before the show. 9 days before an opportunity I have wanted, longed for, dreamed of, chased, for the past 12 years. Oh, I suppose I should give you a little backstory before I go on.
When I began writing “This is Treatment” in February of 2013, I desperately wanted hospitals, institutions, treatment facilities, etc., to know about the show. The very first performance was for people that worked in mental health and recovery. There was always this desire to include those that worked to support people in their recovery journey. I longed for partnerships within this community. And, that did not happen. While people who worked in mental health and addiction treatment did come to performances, there was still something missing around understanding how this work added value to the conversation on ways to support people in their recovery. There wasn’t yet an understanding of the role creativity, theatre, specifically, had in recovery. Overtime, a theme emerged: I had a vision that nobody understood. They couldn’t see it. They didn’t understand it. I knew my show was going to be a tough sell for Broadway (can you tell me how many Black female composer/lyricists/librettists who have stories like mine have gotten their show to Broadway?) but people that worked in recovery? And it broke my heart that they couldn’t see it the way I saw it… And now, 12 years later, they are finally starting to understand.
Okay, 9 days to go and I do what I have trained myself to do over the last 12 years, I ask myself, “what’s possible, Elizabeth? What is the opportunity here?” I think about this for the next hour and then I go to bed knowing that the idea will be there when I wake up.
Side note: the day before the actor quit, I had a dream. My dreams are incredible. Lucid. Vivid. Prophetic, at times. A dear one, an Angel, really, showed me the journey of “This is Treatment” and “Chasing Grace” in a way that I hadn’t seen before. I think that’s a story for another time, but when I woke up, I thought “What a journey it has been…”
It is 6:30am and I wake up with the thought, “they have to see the journey…” And just like that, I go into the archives. I look through 12 years of video. I cry, I laugh, I dance, I sing, I remember how important these musicals are to me; how it has been its own form of narrative therapy; how in the early years, the rehearsal process was like group therapy. I am reminded that though it was an awful lot of hard work, I was so full of doubt, and insecure as all hell, I created what I and so many others needed at that time and it was beautiful.
It is now 3 days before the conference. I have created a 4 ½ minute video highlighting some of the journey. The finale of “Chasing Grace” underscores the video. Upon finishing it, I cried and looked up to the sky and said, “Thank you.” I wouldn’t have done this had that actor not quit. I needed to really reconnect to my “why” and this walk down memory lane did just that.
When I think about that time, I think about the fact that in order to be where I am at today, I had to believe it before I could see it. I had to use my imagination to create a new possibility, create a new way of being in order for that possibility to be realized and thus create a whole new way of life. And 12 years later, I realize, this is the only way of being that makes sense to me anymore. And that, if you stick by your dream – your vision, people may not see it initially, but eventually they will see it. And, now you have become a person capable of making their dreams a reality.
So. In some cases – for some people, seeing is believing, and if that works for them, God bless. And I also recognize how incredibly difficult and scary it is to take a leap without knowing if there will be a net to catch you. But, for me, and for many others who dare to go after their dreams, even when there is no evidence to suggest that they can do it, believing is seeing.
Yeah, there ain’t nothing wrong with being a little delusional. That’s how worlds are built, after all.
More will be revealed, indeed.
Part 5….
A memory…
A coffee shop near South Station. “Here.” The old friend shows me an image of her prior to leaving the states and one of her in her new home 9,000 miles away. “The lifestyle is just different.” The image before she left the states was one of stress and anger. The type of image where you wonder if a heart attack or some awful outburst is right around the corner. All the stories that one image could tell… The other image, the newer image, is one of peace and tranquility. I was amazed by the difference but I couldn’t quite understand it until now.
I am at the diner that I have worked at on and off for seven years. I have been back for a couple of weeks now. I love this diner. I love the customers, my co-workers, the feeling of ‘home’ that I get every time I walk through those doors. I also feel like I am walking through a portal into another dimension. But, that’s for the 5th musical that will be written sometime in 25/26, “Huxley’s Table 15.” “You’re back! How was New Zealand?” a couple of regulars ask. “Like there was nothing to defend against…” They wonder what I mean by that. “Y’all know I do all sorts of things for my well being - pray, meditate, exercise, breath work, cold showers, grounding, etc, but, there… I felt like the moment I woke up, I was already in that state that I work so hard at achieving here. Spirit/Nature/The Universe greeted me from the moment I woke up... Whether you are a person of faith or not, Spirit was ever present. The trees, the water, the birds, the forest, the air, it’s just right there…” Each customer I tell, has a visceral response to what I say. And I tell everyone, regular or not, that they must visit Aotearoa at some point in their lives. One of my dear regulars says, “It sounds like you found your little island, Elizabeth.” Mmmm.
I think back to the old friend who now lives on that side of the world and find myself feeling very grateful for her. She, without realizing it, opened up doors of possibility for me. The first time, I was following her to the other side of the country. This time, she inspired me to travel to a side of the world that didn’t even seem real or possible until now. The beautiful difference is, I am not following anyone or anything. I am simply following the call of Spirit. Funny how Spirit puts dear ones in your path like that. People that help guide you towards what you want or don’t want, a lesson you must learn, an experience you must have, etc. All in an effort, though they might not realize this, to help you further evolve and become the highest expression of yourself - well, if you choose to see it that way, that is… How powerful are we that we get to choose how we see any experience that we’ve had in this school called life? We create the story, we tell the story, we make meaning of the story… We can… change the story. A rewrite is always at our fingertips.
I miss New Zealand. I think back to my Sunday meeting with the dear one who runs the recovery theatre organization, and all the possibilities that lie ahead based on that one conversation. We have another conversation on the books already… I think of the feeling I had as I was headed to the airport – I couldn’t help but notice how I kept feeling as though New Zealand was trying to keep me there. When I felt that, I would say, “don’t worry, i’ll be back…” And since coming home, I hear her calling me at night. In those… in between times of awake and asleep. It’s quite strong. She is reminding me to keep my word. And, I will. I promise.
June 2025, more will be revealed, indeed…
Part 4….
It is Friday and I only have three more days left in Auckland, New Zealand. I am on my way to meet with an organization that works in harm reduction. Before I even came to New Zealand, I reached out to people doing work similar to the work that I do in Boston and New York: theatre, recovery, harm reduction, and storytelling. And while I made some connections via email, I wasn't able to meet with anyone until today. As I head over to meet with this lovely new human at the harm reduction organization, I feel the sting of my new leg tattoo.
I am in an Uber headed to the Waitakere Ranges, in the Waitakere Forest. My Uber driver is a lovely Middle Eastern man who has been in Auckland since his family immigrated over 20 years ago. “Have you been to the states before?” I wonder. “I have been to New York and Michigan. I might go back once I am done with school here.” We continue to talk, and, momentarily, we veer off into politics. Everyone seems to want to talk about politics with me. I am thinking of the older gentleman who stopped me in the park by the grocery store a day earlier. I do not shy away from these conversations, but I am getting tired of them... I imagine that my feelings will find themselves in a political satire of some sort years from now.
We have arrived. The tattoo shop is deep in the forest and I am a little bit nervous, but then, yet again, I hear the voice from within say, “Welcome, Elizabeth.” As I say goodbye to my Uber driver and make my way to the tattoo shop, Ace, the tattooist, and his partner, come out to welcome me. I noticed the blue ink tattooed on his two eyeballs and am taken aback, I have never seen someone with tattooed eyes before. Before leaving for New Zealand, I decided that I would celebrate my birthday with the beginnings of a tree tattoo that would go from my left ankle all the way up to my neck. I knew that I wanted to begin this journey in Aotearoa. Ace and I chat over tea and coffee, he asks me to talk more about my idea for a tree to which he then replies, “we can do what you would like to do, but just know that trees don't move with the human body, what you're speaking of wouldn't really work. But if you're willing, I have another idea.” So far my time in New Zealand has been one of exploration and intuition and a deep desire to connect. And this, right here, is a mighty connection. “Whatever you think is best… I trust you.” He sends me out into the forest to collect things for inspiration. When I come back, I have a branch, a feather from a tui bird, leaves, rocks, and a couple of other things. For the next 6 hours I am in the most pain that I've ever experienced at one time in my life. But with each stroke of his needle, he reminds me that I am getting stronger, that I am breathing in life, that if I want to learn about the Maori culture then I will learn to take the pain of a tattoo as tattoos are part of their rights of passage. Passage. He reminded me that even if I want to leave, run out that door, I stay. I endure. I am strong. He is also a light worker and I can feel the light going into my body. When he is done, I say “ I feel like I need to go and treat myself with something after this." to which he says, “your reward is rest." And I felt what he said in my bones. In my Spirit.
Over the next few days, I take it very easy. While I intended to initially get just some roots for a tree, I ended up getting more than half my leg done. I move a bit slowly and yet I still find myself walking all over Auckland. I write a lot too. Writing was one of the few things I was very sure about when planning to take this trip. It was always meant to be a bit of a workation.
It’s Thursday and it’s my birthday. I am with new friends as we eat good food. They sing happy birthday to me. It’s a very magical moment.
And now, as I sit waiting for my meeting with a lovely woman who works at the harm reduction organization, I wonder when the opportunity to return will reveal itself. I still don’t know yet. I do know that Addiction Practitioner is on the shortage skill list so there might be opportunities for the type of work that I do in Auckland, but what that could look like exactly, I’m not yet sure. My meeting begins and immediately we connect. I love how this woman has shown up to this meeting. Human as all can be. Towards the end of the conversation, she says, “You should meet with this person at this recovery theatre organization!” As I get up to leave, she hands me a card with this person's information and says, “There’s a way, if I found it, you’ll find it! Reach out to me anytime, I’m here for you!” I leave and go straight to a coffee shop where I hit up google to start my search. “What is this recovery theatre organization all about?” I wonder. Immediately I am taken aback by how handsome this human who runs this organization is and think, “well, now, I wouldn’t mind finding love in Auckland! It would make immigrating a hell of a lot easier!” I laugh at this thought, but I can’t tell if I am joking or not. I open up IG and gmail and send this handsome human two messages. I am leaving Monday and it’s Friday, so I am pretty sure there isn’t enough time to meet, but I hope that he and I could zoom in and chat about our work and find a pathway towards working together. The next day, I open Instagram and see a message and gasp, " We can meet on Sunday if you'd like.”
To be continued…..