Category: Reverse Bucket List

From Chaos to Charm: Rediscovering Black Friday in a Small Town

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Is there anything more quintessential to the American Christmas experience than Black Friday shopping? After we’ve filled ourselves with turkey, stuffing and assorted sides, whether that’s salad, mashed potatoes, rolls, cranberry sauce or something entirely unique to your family, we transition from a day of gratefulness to a day dedicated to preparing for giving.

A cynic might look at this shift and scoff. We spend one day proclaiming gratitude for everything we have only to spend the next guzzling greedily from capitalism as we scramble for more. And that criticism isn’t completely unfounded. Yet more often than not, our Black Friday shopping isn’t about ourselves. It’s about stretching every dollar to bring joy to the people we love. Perhaps I’m getting soft in my “old age” of my mid-to-late thirties, but I choose to focus on that spirit of giving rather than the cynicism.

I’ve only gone Black Friday shopping twice in my life. I’ve never been someone who enjoys crowds, chaos or traffic, and for years I couldn’t comprehend the whiplash of Thanksgiving gratitude followed by a pre-sunrise battle for discounted televisions.

Photo by Max Fischer on Pexels.com

When I was a teenager, my brother, sister and I decided we wanted to see what all the fuss was about. We had heard stories from friends whose families braved the early-morning madness each year, tales of “insane” bargains, crowds so tight you could barely breathe and people practically wrestling over toys. It all seemed equal parts thrilling and preposterous. In our house, where our mother had every birthday and Christmas gift purchased by November 1 (the benefit of children with birthdays spanning Nov. 3 through Jan. 16), the tradition seemed very foreign. But we were curious.

I remember the three of us piling into the car while our father drove us to the mall and nearby stores. People were everywhere. It felt like the entire town had the same idea, and the sheer crush of humanity threatened to sweep us along with it. One moment I’d be looking at an item and the next I’d glance up to realize a sibling had been carried several aisles away by the crowd.

Every store was decked out in holiday finery. Decorations blinked and sparkled, loudspeakers belted out everything from 1950s classics to early-2000s pop renditions of Christmas songs and more than once we passed the Salvation Army bell ringer. I dutifully tossed in a few dollars, still not entirely sure what the organization did beyond running the thrift store my father was forever dragging me to, much to my teenage horror. (This was before I learned how to create a fashionable outfit from a thrift-store treasure hunt.)

But the bright lights, blaring music, crushing crowds and snaking traffic were far too overstimulating for my ADHD brain. I bought what I needed as quickly as possible, then begged to go home. My siblings weren’t far behind. We left exhausted, overstimulated and unanimously convinced we’d never do Black Friday again. And honestly? For nearly twenty years, I didn’t.

Now, you might be wondering why I’m writing about an experience that was so thoroughly miserable. I generally write about things that enrich my life, not ones that leave me wrung out. But here’s the thing, trying new things is part of living a rich, curious life. Not every new experience is going to be a good one, but that doesn’t mean we’re worse off for trying. That first Black Friday taught me that environments with overwhelming crowds, lights and noise simply aren’t for me. It helped me understand what I need to feel comfortable, and now I plan accordingly.

The second reason I’m writing about it is that time changes things. Something awful twenty years ago may not be awful now. Clinging to old assumptions can keep us from discovering something new, something better, something transformed.

Fast-forward almost two decades. My sister now hosts Thanksgiving for our family and her in-laws each year. Some years my brother joins; other years I host a small get-together that weekend for the immediate family. My sister often uses the Saturday after Thanksgiving to participate in Small Business Saturday.

But this year, after we hosted a breakfast with my brother on Black Friday, she suggested we wander into our small town instead of making two trips. At first, my old aversion surged back. I could practically feel the traffic inching along, recall the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd and hear the echo of blaring speakers in my mind.

But this wouldn’t be malls and big-box stores. It would be my charming little town, complete with twinkling star decorations on lamp posts and small Christmas trees outside each storefront. Maybe, just maybe, it would be different.

On a whim, I decided to lean into the cheer by wearing my green Victorian coat and a wreath of ivy with white and cranberry ribbons in my hair. We planned to arrive around 9:30, hoping crowds would still be at the big stores. We guessed right. The streets were lively, but not chaotic, and I easily parked at the local elementary school, a trick locals use to avoid the meters and keep street parking open for tourists.

My sister and I wandered through our favorite small shops: The Tea Affair, Matthew 25 Thrift Store, Wilbur Chocolate, Purple Robin, Aaron’s Bookstore, Earth to Lititz, Bunyaad and more. Rather than being crushed by crowds, we could browse comfortably. The Tea Affair was especially delightful, a sensory experience of smelling teas and choosing blends. Most stores didn’t even play music. Instead, they relied on tasteful decor and genuine smiles to create the holiday atmosphere.

As we walked, the holiday window displays felt magical. People stopped me frequently to ask about my outfit, and my answers ranged from “spreading Christmas cheer” to “the occasion is myself,” depending on my mood. By noon the vibe shifted as more determined shoppers began to appear and the stores grew crowded. Fortunately, we had completed our shopping and decided to wrap up the day.

This time, I didn’t leave exhausted or vowing never to return. I left thinking I might like to do it again next year. It turns out that timing matters. Crowds aren’t what they used to be now that online shopping dominates early-morning sales and Cyber Monday exists. People are savvier about deals throughout the year, and many prefer to shop from home in pajamas, significantly thinning out those old-school Black Friday mobs.

Did I score any spectacular deals? Not really. The closest was a six-dollar apron from the thrift store, a lucky find that probably would’ve vanished had I arrived later. But I loved supporting my local shops, knowing my money stayed in my own community and circulated among people I care about. I loved shopping with my sister and finding her the perfect gift: a painting by a local artist.

Time does change things. Experiences can transform, soften or reinvent themselves. Of course, the opposite can also be true (as my different Disney World trips will attest, one lovely, the other quite disappointing), which is why approaching familiar things with an open mind matters, especially when years have passed.

Black Friday is a time-honored American tradition. It isn’t for everyone, but then again, nothing I write about is. Still, it sits on many Christmas bucket lists and holiday-season must-dos. And because I try to live life with curiosity, openness and a willingness to rediscover old things anew, I gave it another chance.

And I’m glad I did.

(Usually, I include a short section on how you can experience this bucket list item for yourself. However, I shaln’t cover that which the marketing departments have so thoroughly disseminated.)

Completed: Once in childhood

Miles from home: Local mall 12 miles from home

Cost: Budget in childhood was $50

Visiting Exhibtions: When the World Comes to You

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Pennsylvania is known as the Keystone State in part because of its strategic position on the Eastern Seaboard. It sits at the heart of the action on the East Coast and, thanks to the Mississippi River, serves as a gateway to the West. This historic and geographical advantage means I have relatively easy access to some incredible places. By extension, when traveling exhibitions come to those places, it’s not a terrible imposition for me to make the trip. Cities like New York, Philadelphia, Washington D.C., Pittsburgh, and Baltimore are all within reasonable distance.

It was by leveraging this advantage that I was able to see the Darwin exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, the King Tut exhibition in Philadelphia, and the Russian Tsars exhibition in Delaware. I’m not sharing this to brag about my state but rather to point out that, depending on where you are, you may be closer to the action than you realize. There are often more opportunities in your area than meet the eye.

The Darwin exhibition offered a fascinating look at the scientist’s life, work, and impact. It even featured two Galápagos giant tortoises. Darwin was a keen observer of nature, and through those observations, he developed one of the most revolutionary theories in the history of biology. His theory of evolution has shaped everything from genetics and epidemiology to biodiversity and our understanding of the fossil record. Prior to Darwin, most people saw the natural world as static and unchanging since the moment of creation. Instead, he proposed a dynamic and interdependent system in which relationships and exchanges alter the inhabitants of the world, who in turn shape their environment.

One of my favorite stories is how he looked at an orchid and hypothesized the existence of an undiscovered insect capable of pollinating it. That insect was discovered forty years after his death. This exhibit was the perfect combination of science, history, and anthropology. It showed how discoveries ripple outward into society and helped me understand just how interconnected everything truly is. Is it any wonder that seeing Darwin’s journals, tools, and legacy made its way onto my Bucket List?

Not to be outdone by New York, Philadelphia often hosts exhibitions and installations that rival its northern neighbor. Just because it’s the Keystone State doesn’t mean it lets the other states have all the fun. In the winter of 2007, I braved a snowstorm to visit the exhibition Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs at the Franklin Institute. The exhibition included fifty major objects from King Tut’s tomb—among them a vessel containing his mummified organs—and over seventy artifacts from the royalty of Egypt’s 18th Dynasty (1555 to 1305 BC), including a sarcophagus.

King Tut’s tomb was discovered in 1922, sparking a global fascination with ancient Egypt that still persists—my own obsession included. Many of these artifacts have rarely left Egypt, so I certainly wasn’t going to let a snowstorm stop me from seizing this rare opportunity. It was history made tangible, a brush with the ancient world that I’ll never forget.

In 1998, Delaware hosted the first major Tsarist exhibition, Nicholas and Alexandra, and I was lucky enough to see it on a fifth-grade field trip. It left a lasting impression on me. We had spent several weeks learning about Russia’s history leading up to the Bolshevik Revolution and the rise of the Communist Party. Featuring nearly 700 objects, it was one of the largest and most prestigious collections of Russian treasures ever to tour outside the country. Most of the items had never before left Russia.

Among the many items on display were the Coronation Egg, an imperial throne, court gowns and uniforms, a gilded state carriage, and artifacts from the Russian Orthodox Church. Even as a child, I was struck by the sheer opulence of the exhibit—particularly the Fabergé Egg, which felt all the more extravagant when considered against the suffering of the Russian people at the time. The experience helped solidify my understanding of the revolution and the dangers of unchecked power and inequality. I’ll avoid getting too political here, but suffice it to say, it made an impression.

Each of these exhibitions made my Bucket List for different reasons. Each one broadened my perspective, deepened my understanding, and shaped how I see the world. They weren’t just collections of artifacts; they were immersive experiences that gave context to history, society, culture, and their ongoing relevance today. Most importantly, they taught me that I don’t always need to travel far to experience the world. Sometimes, the world comes to me.

How Can You Experience Unique Exhibitions?

Start by identifying how far you’re willing to travel. Then make a list of major cities or cultural hubs within that radius—they’re your best bets for hosting large-scale or rare exhibitions. But don’t count out smaller museums, either.

Check their websites to find out when they release their exhibition calendars. I’ve found that many post their schedules for the coming year, although some are less predictable. Once you know when they update their schedules, you can simply mark your calendar to check back. If there’s no set schedule, just take note of when the current exhibition ends and plan to check again around that time.

If you’re searching for something specific—say, an artist or historical topic you love—an online search every six to eight months may yield results. Just be prepared to wait. Some exhibitions, like the Russian Tsars, are generational events.

Lastly, if you’re visiting a city you don’t often travel to, take a few minutes to see what exhibitions are currently on display. You never know what rare gem you might find. It’s easy to miss out by only checking travel sites when planning your trip.

Costs: Range in price from $15 – $25 for museum entrance

Miles from home: Range from a 35 miles to 150

Completed: Childhood – College

Tales from Abroad: Life Unbound

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I had the privilege of spending a semester abroad in my academic studies. For five months, I was halfway across the world, in a non-English speaking country for the most part on my own with limited support. This was a world before smart phones and easy roaming charges. I was for the most part armed with a local flip phone for emergencies, my wits and conversational German. It was just as daunting and fun as one imagines. 

I suppose it was this experience that really solidified my adventurous spirit. How many times have I thought to myself “If I can get lost in the middle of Paris and still catch the train back to Marburg how hard can this be?” It instilled in me a sense of confidence to be able to navigate foreign places, solve problems on the fly and still be successful. There were certainly challenges. 

There were the physical challenges that Germany presented me on day one. I thought I was a fairly experienced traveler having flown numerous times in the United States and I figured that Germany being another Western Country wouldn’t be too different. Stairs are apparently a thing everywhere in Germany and pose a much more serious problem than in the US when it comes to traveling with multiple bags. I had packed my bags anticipating the ease of traversing an airport with multiple rolling bags that I had in America, but Germany wasn’t as accommodating when it comes to rolling suitcases. Luckily, I did have some help in that I was traveling with a group of students, but they weren’t always the most helpful. 

First, getting the bags down the escalators was a nightmare. I distinctly remember one of our bags just tumbling down the escalator as a complete hazard. Second, the trains had stairs. I had never encountered trains with stairs. I don’t even think I had seen such things in movies. Now, it does seem that since I’ve been in the country the train system is not as ruthlessly efficient as I remember it being. However, when I went, the trains were almost always on time and they did not wait for you to finish boarding, you had to get on or you would be left behind and the staff would not wave to the conductor to hold for you.

So there I was tossing my bags up onto the train and trying to get myself on with probably less than two minutes to get myself on board. The stairs were more akin to ladders than stairs, so I was trying to frantically climb onto the train with my bags. Being a naturally clumsy person, in a situation where balance was particularly challenging, I of course started to fall backwards. Luckily for me, the train doors shut just as I was about to stumble back onto the platform. Had I fallen back sooner, I would have been left on the platform with my bags on the train in a strange country and no real way to contact anyone. Had I not managed to get my bags on, I would have been on the train with the bags left behind! Certainly not my best moment! The saga of the stairs did not end there, there were stairs everywhere with almost no elevators to speak of, my legs looked amazing my the end of the trip and I do recommend the Germany Stair Master 5000, 5 month workout plan to you aspiring models. 

My face at seeing that I had to climb yet MORE stairs!

I faced the challenge of navigating a truly arcane system for signing up for classes. I had never seen such a discombobulated, uncoordinated system in my life. Some classes you signed up for in person, some were online, some you had to practically hunt down like some sort of secret cult meeting. I’m still not exactly sure how I managed to actually sign up for my classes, but I somehow squeaked by with the requirements and managed to get myself in courses I felt i could handle with my level of German. Although Frankfurt in Mittelalter was more than I could chew since the first day they wanted me to read latin and I had to read 15th century German documents for a research paper. Essentially, it was like handing a non native speaker of English the original Canterbury Tales and telling them to have at it. I may have spent 3 days researching the history of the German language in order to translate what I was reading before attempting to write anything. 

While I was there, I independently traveled to Paris, Dublin, Nuremberg, Cologne, Frankfurt, and Rome. I planned every part of those trips from booking the plane tickets, navigating transportation to and from the airports, found the hostels and traversed the cities learning the unique public transit of each one. I went with a group of school students on a trip to Berlin and joined Brethren Colleges Abroad for trips to Vienna and Strasbourg. These trips did not involve how to get there or where to stay, but I did have to traverse them on my own, figure out which sights I wanted to see and ensure that I was on time for the checks in. 

While there, I bought my own groceries on a strict budget (most of my money went to my trips rather than to food). I cooked my own food learning how to use a gas oven which terrified me the first time I used it because I had never had to light an oven with a match before. I had to learn how to sort trash like the Germans and all the quirks of their culture. I learned to navigate a completely arcane university system as well as see the world a little differently. I met a fantastic travel companion, a fellow American who shared my love of reading. I wish I could say we stayed in touch and are still best friends, but sadly like many adult friendships it did not last much beyond our semester in Germany as we were from and returned to different parts of the country. 

My trip to Dublin

While I was in Germany, I took advantage of the relatively cheap travel through Ryanair and checked many things off my list. I will say that for the most part I was unable to savor the cities that I visited as I often only had 1 ½ to 2 days in which to see them. That did require me to at times semi-race through places focusing on the absolute “musts” rather than casually strolling through as I may have liked. The Louver itself is a whole day affair if one is to truly take it all in. Sadly, I only saw the highlights rather than everything it had to offer. Which is really what can be said of several of the places I visited (Paris, Dublin, Berlin, and Strasbourg) other places I like Vienna and Rome, I had an entire week to see which allowed me to do much more. I even took a day trip to the beach while in Rome, so I can say that I swam in the Mediterranean. It is unsurprisingly much like swimming in the Atlantic, at least just outside of Rome it is. Also, after Paris I was much more able to navigate the foreign public transit system as I had very little experience prior to coming to Europe 

Through all my adventures, I was required to bring a “can do attitude” and resourcefulness. I managed almost all my mistakes or set backs with grace under fire with one exception. But even that turned out well. 

I got to know so many people in my travels. I listened to their perspective and saw how the different parts of the world views America and by extension me as an American. Some of them were harsh criticisms, others were high praise. I was baffled by the Spaniard who was insulted that I hadn’t chosen to learn Spanish rather than German. I was embraced by a very drunk Irishmen who was just thrilled to death about Obama’s recent election after George Bush. I got to witness a student protest over tuition which blew my mind because back home we all just sort of shrugged with a “what can we do?” when faced by yet more college fees. I listened to young and old shared their lives, their hopes and their thoughts. 

Traveling abroad expanded my horizons, strengthened my character and taught me resilience. It reinforced my spirit of adventure and voracious appetite to learn about places, experience things and know new people. 

Myself and my travel buddy Erica whom I met in Marburg

How can you live abroad?

For many people this is a Bucket List item. Although, I suspect it was mostly put there by people who are much richer than the rest of us. If you aren’t a college student, this is a much more difficult prospect as the semester abroad only cost me $600 more than staying at college (not counting the extra trips I took). To me it was well worth the $600 extra investment on top of the investment I was already making in my education. Otherwise living abroad can be quite costly without gainful employment and how many of us realistically are going to find jobs where we can work in another country? I have seen some groups which advertise house sitting in Europe which would help take care of your accommodations, but there’s still pesky things like food that you need to pay for and if you’re house sitting you can’t really travel around all that much. Plus, what about your own house back home and your job?

That doesn’t mean that all is lost. One of the principles of the thing is that you’re willing to put yourself in a fairly unfamiliar situation, with limited access to outside supports forcing you to navigate unique challenges and overcome. A solo road trip through the United States where you just jump in the car and go, may present you with similar challenges.

The other principle is that you’re interacting with a lot of different people from around the globe with a willing and humble spirit to be shown their perspective. I continue to do both things in my life. Taking a short week backpacking in Mexico or Peru can be just as challenging if not more than navigating a semester in Germany. Talking to someone online who’s from Beirut may expand your understanding of the world far more than talking to someone you met in France because of the greater cultural differences. 

Just living abroad does not necessarily confer these challenges either. It is easy to wall yourself off in an English speaking enclave and never leave depending on where you go. Had I gone to Germany, only hung out with American students, taken classes in English and never left my dorm, would that have given me the same experience? No, I may as well have stayed in America for all it did for me other than give me some social clout to say “I spent a semester abroad”. Remember, dear readers, we do not marry the principles of what we desire to the thing itself. Our desires can manifest in many forms and be just as satisfying if not moreso. 

Still if you truly desire to do so, then my recommendation is to learn another language and start applying for jobs abroad. You obviously don’t need to learn another language, but it is certainly helpful. As of this writing the best jobs abroad are teacher, volunteer, medical industry, tour guide, yachting, au pair, scuba dive instructor, yoga instructor, working for an international company and obtaining a working holiday visa. As you can see many of them are easier said than done and do require some sort of specialization. So do your market research and consider what it would really mean to go abroad. After all you only live once, why not live it a little unbound?

Completed: Spring 2009

Cost: $600 

Miles from home: about 4,000

Full disclosure: As stated above, it was only $600 in addition to my college tuition, so I’m not counting the cost of tuition as I would have paid that one way or the other. I also didn’t include my additional travels but all told they probably cost me about $1500. Two of those trips were covered in the cost of my studies. 

A Wickedly Good Time: A Broadway Musical in New York

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Considering the movie version is at its height of being popular, It seems that now is the perfect time to write about my very first Broadway Musical experience, Wicked (from my Reverse Bucket List).

I must confess my confusion that after 20 plus years of being on the stage, the musical is still so beloved that it should have such a large fanbase that has flocked to the theaters to see it and sing along. It certainly is a good musical, catchy music, compelling characters, interesting plot, and full of deeper themes that will stand the test of time. However, I just hadn’t heard much about it since it first debuted back in 2003 which followed on the heels of the 1995 book. Seeing all the excitement surrounding the movie version of it has made me reminisce about my Broadway experience.  

I was in my senior year of high school when the music department was able to schedule a trip up to New York city in order to see Wicked the musical. As our high school was about a 3 hour drive from New York, it wasn’t too far for us to do occasional class trips. As it happened, this trip was scheduled for the day after another trip to New York to see the Darwin Exhibit – so I happened to go twice in one week (but a post for another time). I had recently read the book from my library, curiosity finally winning out to discover what precisely had everyone in such a frenzy of excitement. As my school had done the Wizard of Oz musical in my freshman year, i was extremely curious to not only read the story from an alternative point of view but see the story from an alternative point of view. 

Our field trip actually began in the later part of the school day as the performance would not be until the twilight hours. We piled onto the charter bus as a group of exuberant, nerdy teens ready to take on the world. For most of us, this would be the first time seeing a Broadway musical and for some it was their first time going to New York. The air was palpable with excitement which soon wore off after the initial jostling for seats and everyone settled into their places for the long trip up. There was the usual chatter, the occasional flirtatious glance between people, whispered gossip and playful teasing for which groups of teens are known for. 

I was no different sitting with my friends and giggling most of the way uncertain of exactly what I was in for. I had of course heard of the infamous broadway and grew up watching various performances of musicals recorded on video. I didn’t know precisely what made Broadway so special other than that was where musicals were born. Even though I had just seen the famous city, I had not yet visited when the daylight fades and gives way to the bright lights of the streets. Would it really transform itself as I had been lead to believe? 

As the bus rolled along, we began to start seeing signs for New York and signs for Wicked. The excitement on the bus began to build once again. The energy was barely contained within the seats. For myself, I remember half bouncing up and down in glee. Shortly – though not nearly quick enough – we had arrived in the big city. We were given leave to divide ourselves up into groups and we were taken to have pizza. 

I remember walking through the streets taking in all the sites. The daylight had just started to fade, turning the sunlight to rose. There seemed to be too much to take in at once. Buildings towering over us. Music blared over the cacophony of sounds, traffic, horns, and construction. We spotted a street performer. Cars were everywhere, some of them quite unique like the limo humvee which alternatively amused and baffled us as quintessentially New York. Looking up we saw the famous billboards and lights, soon they would light the night and block out the stars and moon. 

We were ushered into an upscale restaurant which was known for its pizza, though to this day I cannot quite recall its name. But I recall the atmosphere quite well. Like most upscale restaurants, the lighting was dim which only accentuated the richness of the dark wooden panels on the lower part of the walls. The upper half seemed to be a lighter cream though the shadows obscured the truth. I distinctly recall that we ate on the upper level looking down over the rest of the patrons. Perhaps, knowing that they would play host to rambunctious adolescents they wisely seated us away from their other customers lest we became a disturbance. If we were, I did not hear of it, though I cannot quite imagine that we were not at least slightly disruptive. However, most of us had been raised with at least decent enough manners, the problem of course is that when in the company of other teens, those manners seem to get forgotten. 

I will fully admit that while yes, I had the infamous New York pizza, it didn’t really taste all that much better than the pizza I order from down the block monthly. Granted, the pizzeria is owned by a 2nd generation Italian immigrant whose grandparents owned a restaurant in Italy, so I may be a bit spoiled when it comes to Italian food. 

What I remember most about the evening after arriving at the theater was that it was both exactly what I expected and not what I expected at all. First, dear reader, you must recall that a Broadway musical or really any theatrical performance “on Broadway” could take place on any one of 41 stages in New York City which can seat 500 or more persons. There are in point of fact only three theaters located on Broadway itself: Broadway Theater, Palace Theatre and Winter Garden Theatre. So even though one might picture Broadway and one of these three theaters, one might find oneself in a theater several blocks away.

Prior to going to a Broadway production, my theater experiences consisted of the Fulton in Lancaster and the Hershey Theater, neither of which are architectural sisters to those in New York. So while I had a vague notion of what a theater looked like from pictures and movies, it was still in juxtaposition to the Hershey which was designed after a cathedral in Venice and the Fulton which was designed as a Victorian Opera house. What struck me most was the sheer amount of red velvet that they had at the entrance. It seemed quite a bit odd while still ornate. I remember thinking that the entrance was a bit smaller than I had imagined as we were ushered into what seemed to be too small a space before opening up into a larger area. 

To be honest, the venue vaguely reminded me of a posh movie theater. It had a more modern flair and everything was a rich dark red and black accented with golds. Sound was softened by the lush carpet so that the conversation of the crowd swarming inside was a hushed murmur around me. Everywhere I looked people were smiling with an eagerness of anticipation. Once inside the theater, the air positively hummed with the activity of people quickly seeking out their spots. I was situated stage left towards the middle of theater close enough to see well enough but not to really see the more subtle expressions of the actors. 

It hardly mattered, from the moment the curtain rose and the first notes rang out, I was transfixed. Glinda floated down in a sparkling blue dress singing that no one would mourn the Wicked Witch. I remember watching the Wizard dance around the stage with Elphaba’s mother singing and giggling with one another, a slight deviation from the book already. By the second song of Dear Ol’ Shiz, I was taken up into the story which asks what makes someone wicked? The very same question that first led me to explore psychology and later a career in social work. 

It’s hard to exactly describe the sheer spectacle of a broadway production from the sets to the costumes; everything is meticulously crafted to convey subtle messages and create impressions which help tell the story. Scattered throughout were small references to the original Wizard of Oz while still firmly establishing the differences from the source material. It began to take an almost dreamlike quality where your mind begins to fill in the holes that the set leaves open, a few trees become a forest, a few mock houses spring into a whole town until your mind is sort of tricked into thinking there was more than there really was.

It could be that it’s the songs that help weave the enchantment for there is ever magic in song. It makes it easy to slip out of solid reality and into the dream realm. After all, it’s really only in dreams that people would be singing and dancing to tell a story. Perhaps, the music really does help place your mind in an altered state allowing you to more fully experience it. The choreography only adds to dream as people twirl about the stage becoming whirls of color. During the songs with larger ensembles it becomes too much to take all in, your eyes unable to drink in each movement and the lyrics blend together in your ears. 

However, just like the spells woven in the musical, so too, does the spell the cast holds over the audience eventually shatter. The last song sung, the last line spoken and as if on cue the audience breaks into applause the thundering of hundreds of hands slapping together creating a wave of discordant sound which rouses them out of their half dazed slumber. Half stumbling out into the night and slightly stiff from sitting too long, the crowd begins to dissipate. Each person with a sort of half glazed look in their eyes as if they aren’t quite free from the enchantment of the stage. Patrons speak excitedly to one another, a few hum, fewer still hum on key. A number of them will most likely find themselves in bars later drunk on more than just showtunes. For a group of rowdy teens, the only thing left to do was to be herded back onto the coach bus. 

Considering the lateness of the night, we returned in relative quiet, the lights were turned low to allow us the opportunity to sleep. I was never one to really sleep during transportation, did not. Although the next day, I was exhausted for yet a third field trip with my German class, but that is a post for another time. I recall mostly stumbling into my bed in the wee hours of the morning resigned to the idea that in only a few short hours I would have to return to the waking world. Still, as I lay in my bed the songs played over in my mind and my dreams were swirls of color. 

Years later, I went to another Broadway Musical, this time Kiss Me Kate, a retelling of Shakespear’s Taming of the Shrew. The magic that was cast was as real as the first time. Time once again was suspended and I was overtaken by the spell of the theater. 

How can you see a Broadway Musical?

If you are lucky enough to be relatively close to New York City, then it is quite easy for one to get there. You can either be like my music department and secure transportation for the same day knowing that you may end up crawling back into your bed in the wee hours of the morning utterly spent and exhausted or you can arrange to stay overnight like I did when I went with my sister with a hotel close by. The latter option is of course far more expensive.

However, my sister and I had tacked on an evening in New York as part of a larger trip as we were departing from New York. We had determined that rather than trying to get to New York the same day as departure we opted to go the day before to ensure that we did not miss our cruise ship. This is certainly an option I encourage you to consider when traveling, dear reader. If you find that you need to arrive to or depart from a city you otherwise would not travel to, consider if it’s possible to extend your trip by a day in order to enjoy the sights. My sister did this in Barcelona as well and I hope to do so in London. If one is going to be there anyways then it is far cheaper in the long run to spend a little extra on a day rather than spending even more later on a separate trip. 

Still, not everyone will be traveling in and out of New York nor is everyone able to travel to it on a lark for a day trip. Then the principle of the thing is what one must turn to. Now a Broadway production is a grand thing, but it is not the only way to enjoy a Broadway Musical which is a genre rather than the thing itself. There are many beautiful and glorious venues which put on performances of musicals. Take the earlier mentioned Hershey Theater which is a masterpiece of architecture. The quality of performances that have graced its stage are certainly equal to New York’s Broadway or London’s West End. Some performances may even surpass what one may see on Broadway depending on the quality of the actors, costumes and set pieces.

There is after all nothing inherently magical about a particular venue, Broadway just happens to be the place where most musical productions are developed and debuted. It is the place to go if you want to see the newest musicals; it is not the only place with capable of phenomenal performances. This is great news, as you, dear reader, are almost certainly within a reasonable distance of a grand theater which hosts performances. I encourage you to go forth to your nearest performance hall and find yourself lost in the magic of musical theater!

Completed: Spring 2006

Cost: Current cost $100 – 200 per ticket 

Miles from home: 150

Reverse Bucket List: Unicorn Tapestries

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Occasionally, I like to share bucket list items from my reverse bucket list or include tales from further afield. It isn’t to necessarily go off track or to undermine the purpose of my blog, but rather present an open and honest representation of my list, the things I’ve accomplished and how I’ve done them. I would be remiss to only showcase the things that I’ve done close to home as that would be creating a false impression that one really can complete everything without travel. Depending on where you are and what you want to do with your life, some travel may be required. I also don’t want to be held up as some sort of standard of perfection or be accused later on of not practicing what I preach. I’ve watched many influences and internet personalities over the years to see that the truth will come out and I do myself no favors by presenting a false narrative of my life. Who knew honesty was the best policy? 

This item is from both my reverse bucket list and from tales further afield. It should come as no surprise dear reader that I love unicorns. 

I know – you’re in absolute shock, never in a million years did you see this confession coming! Sarcasm may be a 2nd language for me, followed closely by bad English and then German. 

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

I digress. I love unicorns. My very first stuffed animal from the day I was born was in fact a unicorn. It doubled as a music box that played Somewhere Over the Rainbow. The unicorn’s name is Rainbow and she was my favorite toy. I even took her to Germany with me when I was in college. She still sits on a shelf in my room. Growing up in the 90’s unicorns were difficult to find, but my mother still managed to get me the rare unicorn toy and find me the rare unicorn book. I read every book that had a unicorn in it, including a book which showcased the La Dame a la Licorne or The Lady and the Unicorn. 

The Lady and the Unicorn tapestries are a collection of six tapestries housed in Paris France. They were created in the style known as thousand flowers and it is easy to see where it gets its name as the background of the tapestries are woven with hundreds of flowers. The tapestries were woven in Flanders out of wool and silk from designs created about 1500 AD. They were hidden away for potentially centuries  in Boussac castle until their discovery in 1841. Interestingly enough they were dated correctly by the novelist George Sand as coming from the 15th century based on the depiction of the ladies’ costumes. Never underestimate a woman’s eye for fashion. 

The six tapestries depict five of the senses, touch, taste, smell, hearing and sight. The sixth one is a bit of a mystery as it displays the following motto on the lady’s tent “A Mon Seul Desir” or “my sole desire”, but it has been translated differently by different people leaving us with some ambiguity. I find it rather strange that the tapestries with no words are the ones with the clearest meanings, but the one with words leaves us scratching our heads. Some interpretations believe is a renunciation of the passions, an assertion of her free will; others see it as representing a sixth sense of understanding. This last one is based on sermons from 1420 which lines up with the timeline of the tapestries. 

Pardon the darkness of the picture, this was taken in 2009 and flash photography was not permitted

Nevertheless these tapestries are beautiful works of medieval art. They not only depict six scenes, but also they are representative of the interplay between the arts and their patrons at that time period with the banners depicting the heraldry of the nobility who sponsored them. The arts could not have survived without the support of patrons. This interplay was an important part of the social structure of the time.  Additionally, it is reflective of the importance of the Christian church as like most art of the time period it carries themes from the Christian faith. One of the reasons I so loved unicorns was they were often a reference to Christ in medieval art. Finally, they demonstrated fashion at the time of their creation. Larger tapestries, like these, were used to showcase wealth and power as well as to provide extra insulation in drafty castles. They were both art and a craft. 

Today, the suite of The Lady and the Unicorn is housed in the Musee de Cluny in Paris. A fitting home for these tapestries and the Cluny mansion was built in the late 1400’s and houses many medieval artifacts like these. I almost missed them entirely on my trip to Paris. I will fully admit that I never thought I would get to Paris. I knew that the tapestries were housed in France, but where in France, I could not have told you where exactly. Because I never thought I’d go, I did not pay much attention to what was actually in Paris other than the famous monuments and the Mona Lisa. 

However, I did get to go in April of 2009, during my study abroad. It was a semi-last minute decision. I found out a friend of mine was going to be in Paris and so I asked Erica, a fellow American girl and fantasy book nerd, if she’d like to go with me to Paris to meet up with him. There, I was in Paris enjoying the museums, the history, the culture, the food – they did not lie, they have delicious food. I kept noticing the unicorn tapestries on bags, pillow covers, notebooks, all those touristy things they try to sell you in the gift shops. At first, I dismissed them as just standard French tourist crap that they sell all over the country. When finally, while at the Sainte Chapelle (one of the most gorgeous churches on the planet), I asked a person behind the counter in a curious voice, “Are those tapestries here in Paris?” “Yes.” I am certain they could feel my excitement go from zero to hundred in under 10 seconds, for they seemed a bit alarmed by my enthusiastic and semi-desperate, “Where?” They politely answered, “The Medieval Museum, it is nearby.” And proceeded to give the overly excitable American directions. Luckily for me, Erica being an archeology major had zero objection to my abrupt course correction to the Medieval Museum and we rushed to get there before it closed for the day. Did my feet hurt from walking nearly 15 miles that day? Yes. Did I care? Absolutely, not there were unicorns to see! (We won’t talk about how we couldn’t figure out the darn subway system and walked the entire historical district of the city).

It took most of my self control not to simply rush through the museum to the tapestries, but I respected Erica’s desire to linger over the various pieces of history displayed. I did my best to hold my excitement back, even though I may have been bouncing up and down at the front desk chanting “unicorn” upon entry to the museum. I was twenty-one, child-like displays of youthful enthusiasm were perfectly permissible. Now, I must display my excitement in more subdued expressions or so I’ve been told. Some people are simply no fun. 

Finally, we came to the tapestries and they were even more glorious in person than on any page or screen. There are many pieces of art that I have seen in the printed form that I have not found to be all that different or impressive in person leaving me a bit disappointed after the build up. The tapestries were certainly not disappointing in person. Because one can really see each piece of woven thread and appreciate every flower. The magnitude of the work cannot be understated when confronted with the sheer size and detail of this masterpiece. It represents hundreds of hours of work. According to a post from the metropolitan museum of art, a set of six large tapestries  would have taken thirty weavers between eight and sixteen months to complete. That is not accounting for the hours of design that went into the cartoon that the weavers would need to produce the tapestry. 

To most people reading this, a textile project taking that long is unthinkable, not when you can hop on amazon, buy a woven blanket for 60 bucks and be enjoying it with prime 2 day delivery. A wall hanging in the medieval style can also be yours for about $220 and also be in your home in about two days. A tapestry at the time of their making would be worth thousands in today’s dollars. 

Upon entering the dark room, my excitement turned to quiet awe. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of them. I floated to them as if caught in a dream. I cannot say for certain, how long I sat there admiring them, taking in their craftsmanship and cursing my lack of botanical knowledge to identify the plants. I examined each one carefully noting the themes and subtle details. I doubt I said much to my travel companion as I studied them. The pictures never did them justice, how could they? How do you capture in words their beauty and masterful craftsmanship? How do you fully appreciate their vibrant colors and shapes without seeing them in person? A picture loses so much when it’s shrunken down to fit on a page and our imaginations are limited by what we’ve experienced. Too soon, I left them, but there was the rest of Paris to see and far too little time to fully appreciate the City of Lights. Adieu mon amour, perhaps we shall meet again one day. 

Pardon the darkness of the picture, this was taken in 2009 and flash photography was not permitted

How can you see tapestries?

Well, you don’t have to hop on a plane to France to see tapestries. There are museums here in the United States that display various tapestries from the Medieval and Renaissance eras. If you are particularly interested in seeing unicorn tapestries after reading me wax poetic about them, there is a set of them at the Cloisters in New York which are governed by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They are a set of seven tapestries, also from around the same period as The Lady and the Unicorn and are in the style of the thousand flowers. Just as with the tapestries in France, these also hold mysteries such as how to interpret the tapestries and even who they were made for. Depending where you are in the country, a plane ride may or may not be necessary. 

I highly recommend if you ever get to either New York or Paris, to take time to see these masterpieces. Provided of course such things are of interest to you. You know by now, that I always tell people to skip that which holds no interest or intrigue to them. Life is too short to waste it on things you don’t enjoy. 

Celebrating the Journey and Looking Back on Accomplishments: My LCSW

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Having recently celebrated another journey around the globe, it seems like a good time to reflect back on life milestones that I have accomplished. After all a birthday is a milestone that we mark off each year. As we get older, birthdays can become times of existential dread. Time has passed and we may becoming overly focused on all the things we haven’t accomplished. Maybe we got married, but we still don’t have children. Or maybe you had kids but never got to school. Maybe you went to school and launched a successful career but never got around to tying the knot. We can become so overly focused on all the things we still haven’t done, that I think we should make sure to celebrate the things we have accomplished. Hence my reverse bucket list and this blog – by writing things here it helps keep me focused on the positives to build on them rather than allow myself to get bogged down in the quagmire of unfilled dreams. 

Now most big milestones of life are usually things like marriages, birth of children, graduations, professional accomplishments, etc. That isn’t to say those are things we must do or should do. For some people none of those things are things they want to pursue and good for them! A life milestone for them may be adopting a pet, starting a non-profit, backpacking solo through Asia. As always, dear reader, embrace your own journey and individual inklings.  

When going through my Reverse Bucket List, it was a natural thing to include my education and professional development as past items worthy to celebrate. Higher Education is often something that graces people’s Bucket List and for good reason. It is one way for an individual to develop themselves professionally and have opportunities open to what one hopes is a better path forward. As many in my generation can attest, a degree is not a promise of success, it is merely opening the door to possibilities that would otherwise be closed. 

High School Graduation: The start of the journey

There are also many paths to education after high school including trade schools, certificates, and even self-taught skills. College isn’t for everyone depending on their own personal goals. If you desire to have your own plumbing business, getting a degree in engineering may contain useful information a plumber would need, but it’s not going to help you with that goal. My goal was to become a therapist, so I knew that I would need to obtain a higher education in order to achieve the goal. The education piece was part of the journey, not necessarily the goal in and of itself. 

Over the course of almost 13 years, I obtained a dual undergraduate degree in Psychology and German, completed my MSW program, and successfully sat for two licensing exams, first the LSW and then the LCSW. Not only did I graduate from these programs, I graduated with honors or if you’re feeling fancy “cum laude”.  The LCSW represents the long journey to achieve one of the highest levels of expertise and competency in my chosen field. Completing it took thousands of supervised clinical hours, continuing education credits, studying, attending classes and commitment. There were times when I did consider not completing it, wondering if it was really worth it. However, I knew the opportunities it would open up once I got it, more so than any degree or certificate I had yet obtained. 

I think it’s important to celebrate not only the achievement of an end goal, but also all the smaller goals in between. When we reflect on the journey, we can appreciate how that journey enriched our lives, potentially more so than the goal itself. Going to college was more than just the knowledge gained, though I certainly gained a solid foundation at Messiah College with regards to my profession. I went through rigorous coursework, taught by phenomenal professors who truly cared about my development as a budding mental health professional. 

In addition, college was an experience of living on my own, having additional responsibilities and freedoms, navigating different social systems and expanding my world views. For the first time, I was regularly interacting face to face with people who came from not only all over America but all over the world. I found myself challenged and stretched in unexpected ways. I learned to look at things from a different perspective. I formed tight-knit bonds with my circle of friends, who while I may not see very often, the moment we get together again, it is as if no time has passed. Part of my undergrad experience was the opportunity to live and study in another country for five months (post on that later). My semester abroad is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. 

Walking across the stage to stand in collective triumph at the end of college, with all my friends and classmates who took the journey with me, is a moment that will stay forever in my mind. I still remember the pride in my sister’s eyes as she hugged me close to say, you did it and how grateful I was that my mom got to see that moment when only four years before in my freshman year I got the phone call that she was in the hospital with a stroke. I was filled with excitement and hope for the future. I had dreams of what my life was about to become.

A lot of those dreams didn’t exactly pan out. Graduating into the recession made life difficult and a lot of the projected decent jobs that I was told would be there when I entered the workforce, were gone. The original plan was to get a good job and work towards paying my student loans down before going back to graduate school. The economy had different ideas. After two years of working at a low paying but enjoyable job with autistic children, I decided to apply for graduate school and get my higher education. Honestly, had the pay been decent for an undergraduate degree, I probably would have never left that job. I loved working with those kids! However, despite requiring a degree it paid about the same amount as someone with only a high school diploma with zero prospects of a decent raise, so I choose to go back to school. 

Unlike college, my experience in grad school was more a frantic run than a journey I took the time to savor. There was no room for extra things like Japanese Culture Club, Swing Dancing, Irish Step Dancing, Fencing or Flags. There wasn’t even time for making friends. I worked and went to school, both keeping me busy during most of my waking hours. Rather than invest in social relationships of grad school, I choose to simply maintain the ones I had. However, lest it seem that the experience was less glamorous than my undergrad, the highlight of my graduate experience was my internships and my discovery of macro level social work. 

Two amazing gentlemen that I had the privilege of working with in Haiti

I had the privilege of being the American contact for a non-profit committed to assisting young men and women in Haiti obtain a higher education and improve their job prospects. I worked with about 20 young men and my Haitian counterparts Daniel and Lubin to develop the education program, coordinate with the American educational resources and encourage the students. I even spent a week down there meeting with the students and providing professional development workshops. My second internship was helping to plan and implement a Golf & Gala Fundraiser for orphans in Africa. My final internship was helping to run an emergency winter shelter for homeless women in my local city. 

After graduate school, I sat for my LSW exam and passed. It would be another 7 years before I finally had the necessary 3,000 hours of clinical supervision and could sit for my LCSW. In that time, I was a Family Therapist, a coordinator of another Homeless Shelter and a coordinator of a housing program for individuals with disabilities. In the summer of 2023, I was able to sit for the exam and passed with flying colors. From the time I decided to become a therapist in my senior year of high school, I finally could call myself a LCSW after almost 17 years. Naturally, my family and I celebrated this achievement.

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Proudly holding my LCSW license at my job

The journey was not an easy one. There were many setbacks and delays with going to grad school and finding a clinical supervisor resulting in almost 6 years “lost”. However, I wouldn’t call them truly lost or wasted. I have always trusted the path that was before me and that despite everything, it was the one I was meant to walk. There were reasons for the delays and setbacks, skills I needed to develop, lessons I had to learn, experiences I had to have and perhaps, people I needed to meet. 

How can you celebrate your own professional journey?

Take time to reflect on your accomplishments! Toot your own horn! Be proud of all the things you’ve done! Obviously, dear reader, if you got a degree, you should look on that for the accomplishment that it is. However, if you did not, there is still much to celebrate. One of the most successful people I ever had the privilege of knowing never got her college degree, yet she started a non-profit, ran a successful hospitality business, started a consulting business, runs an annual fundraiser for charity, recently sold her business for well over a million dollars and started up another one. She has been a vice-president of operations of an international company, an actress, model and more. There are so many different careers and journeys out there each with their own measurements of competency, expertise and success.  

Regardless of whether you’ve gotten a degree or not, it is important to remember your own measure of achievement. What the world says is a mark of achievement and what you want to actually obtain, might be different things. It’s your life; you only get to live it once, so you get to set your own professional goals and what it means to obtain them. Only you know what it took to get to this point in your life. Only you know the personal struggles that you had to overcome and all the small victories along the way that got you here. Celebrate your journey and look to the future! 

Completed: LCSW Obtained July 2023

LSW Obtained July 2016

Master of Social Work magna cum laude Obtained May 2016 

Bachelor’s of Psychology & Bachelor’s of German cum laude Obtained 2010 

Miles from home: A Reverse Bucket List can be completed at home. I wrote out a whole list of items, but to do a deeper dive, I recommend journaling about them, like my blog post above. 

Cost: For purposes of a Budget Bucket List Reverse Bucket List Items are free as they are celebrating past achievement. 

However, full disclosure is in order – Going to school is expensive, the average student debt for college degree & master’s degree is $71,000 and my debt was about this average. My graduate school was less than an hour from my house and my college was about an hour and fifteen minutes from home, so still close to home. 

I highly recommend that if you are considering school or other post-secondary education, to research carefully the projected job market of your chosen field, the starting salaries and the cost of living in your area. 

She’s a Hooker! Learning to Crochet

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My mother was the one who first introduced crochet to me as a craft that was something other than for grandmothers. When she first became disabled, she suddenly found herself with plenty of time on her hands but not a lot of energy by which to do things. She could no longer fill her days with work and housework. She spent most of her time in bed and as so many of us learned during the pandemic, there is only so many TV shows and movies one can watch before feeling stir crazy. So with plenty of time on her hands, she returned to the crafting of her youth, in this particular case knitting and crocheting. Suddenly our house was being filled with piles of yarn that were transformed before my eyes into elegant scarves, beautiful shawls, stylish hats and warm gloves. I was surprised by how the things she made actually looked fashionable. In particular, I was fascinated by crochet with its ability to take on shape and form so unlike other textiles. Naturally, I wanted to learn.

Despite what you may have heard, there was not a strong association between crochet and prostitution. The lace of the ladies of the night had nothing to do with this fine and noble craft! Crochet originated as an art form in the 1800’s coming from “shepherd’s knitting” which was primarily practiced in Denmark and tambour embroidery, a chain-stitch embroidery from China. Despite its French name meaning “hook” it was actually most popular in England, going to show that the upper class English are quite determined to continue the Norman conquest some 800’s years later. Just kidding! The art continued to flourish and especially took off in Ireland during the potato famine as a way for young ladies to earn a living. It wasn’t until about the 1940’s that it became more popular over here in America and of course in the 1970’s it gave rise to the granny squares. 

It was with this long and noble tradition in mind that I picked my first project. A simple hat in lime green. I picked lime green primarily because it was a bright color by which to see and learn on. I sat dutifully next to my mother and she began to teach me. In principle, it is a matter of making a loop and then pulling next bit of yarn through the loop, to make another loop and so on and so forth. They use simple terms like yarn over which is just wrapping the yarn around the hook to be able to pull it through one makes bigger. What makes crochet interesting is that because it is so basic one can do things like wrap more yarn around the hook, pull it through a different hole than the one right next to it, twist it one way or the other in order to make interesting shapes. You can make blankets, clothes, flowers, even toys! The world is really your oyster when it comes to this art form. 

However, as with most things it is easier said than done. One would think that one would get a nice uniform size of loops by dint of the size of the hook. After all patterns call for certain sizes of hook in order to ensure the holes are that size. Not so, apparently I subconsciously tense and my holes become smaller and smaller and smaller until my darn hook can barely fit. Then my stitches become bigger. This pulls the existing fabric one way or the other. At times it was truly an exercise in frustration. My mother gave me different pieces of advice and assisted with getting it less lopsided. She encouraged me to keep trying while her pieces continued to dazzle. She made it look so easy, so relaxing, like going for a stroll in the park. My stroll consisted of going up a mountain in the pouring rain followed by falling down the mountain and landing face first in mud. Still, the hat did get done, misshapened as it was and too small for my own head, it graced the head of a stuffed bear. 

Having been abysmal at crocheting, I tried knitting, another noble art form, but failed to even knit a scarf as the problem of “tightness” was even worse with the knitting needles. I literally could not knit loose enough to fit my needles through the holes I was making as they became ever smaller with each stitch. Alas, it would seem that such an art form is not really for me. 

What can be gleaned from this bucket list item? Was it a failure? A waste of time? First, there is value in persistence even in the face of low performance. After all, no one’s first attempt at anything is particularly spectacular. The point was to gain a greater appreciation for the art, to try my hand at it and get the literal feel for it. I had a much better understanding of crochet afterwards, even though I could not replicate it, I had at least begun to develop an eye for the art form. There was a certain satisfaction in completing the project. Sometimes the act of persistence and perseverance through a difficult task makes the task worth it. After all, does it matter how one summit the mountain? 

One of my mom’s scarves

Finally, it was something that I could do with my mom at a time when she couldn’t do much. She had just suffered a stroke at the age of 46, lost her job, lost her income and a lot of her physical abilities. It kick started the next twenty years of surgeries and multiple hospitalizations. There were times when she almost died and so having spent time with her learning one of her passions was in of itself important. I was able to connect with her in a new way through her art. I may not ever get very good at it, but it is something I shall carry with me as a gift from my mom to me.  I do not have that hat with me anymore. I did not see the need to keep it because I have the memories of learning with my mom.

How can you learn crochet?

In the wake of the pandemic lockdowns, many people took up various arts and crafts, including crocheting. There is a rich world of online tutorials, classes at local craft stores and kits you can buy offline. The start up cost can be very little with kits starting at 15 bucks or so. You don’t even need to leave your house and it’s a small project that can be taken anywhere. 

If crocheting isn’t for you, maybe there’s someone special in your life who has a hobby you’ve been meaning to learn. Take the opportunity to ask them to share their passion; maybe find a small project that you can try your hand at. I’m sure they’ll be glad you asked and afterwards you’ll have a newfound appreciation for what they do. Who knows you may find yourself a new hobby!

Completed: 2007

Miles from home: 0 miles 

Cost: Free materials provided (15 – 20 for a starter kit from amazon)

See a Live Play: Shakespeare in the Park

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Perhaps, I owe many of these adventures to my mother because while she did not teach me these principles directly she set the example. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. I wore my sister’s clothing once she grew out of it, shopped at thrift stores and grocery outlets, ate leftovers, and used the library as a primary source of entertainment. We rarely went on trips longer than a day, but my mother worked hard to ensure my childhood was still enriched. She scoured the newspapers and kept her ear to the ground for low cost or free events. It was at a time when the internet didn’t really exist and being on the lower end of the economic scale, we were late adopters of most technology. I remember going to things like a bank opening and riding a pony, visiting museums when it was free admission for kids and going to concerts at our church or library. One of these events was the annual Shakespeare in the park play and it remains to this day one of my favorite childhood memories. 

Every summer, we’d pack up a picnic dinner, chairs, blankets and head to the park. We’d stake our place among the quickly growing crowd. After eating sandwiches and drinking the rare soda, my brother, sister and I were allowed to go play on the playground with the other children until the play began. We would let our imagination run wild on the playground imagining dragons or fairies around every corner. We would make quick friends of the other children that were there to join in our games even though the friendship lasted less than an hour. Despite our fun, our parents never had to entice us away from the playground because we were so eager to watch the real magic begin. There was nothing so enchanting as a play by the bard himself.

Lake at Longs Park

The plays were put on by the Theater of the Seventh Sister, named after the seventh star of the pleiades constellation. It was a group that put on performances from the late 80’s through late 2010’s. These were by no means broadway spectacles but it didn’t matter with the generous support of the community, these phenomenal actors and actresses brought Shakespeare’s comedies to life each year as part of a larger arts in the park summer series. I remember sitting on a blanket at just eight years old completely spellbound as they spoke in the poetry of the plays, absorbing the rhythm of iambic pentameter. The heat of the summer melted away and I was transported to another place and time. The experience solidified both my adoration of Shakespeare and my love of live theater. 

I will not hold up theater over film or television as some sort of superior artform nor will I say that the opposite is true. Both have their place, but film and television is far more common and unfortunately far more accessible. Many people have not had the opportunity or privilege of watching a live performance. It is very different to see a story spring forth with moving sets and props. The way they speak to communicate emotions is not the same way as in a film, their movements and expressions are more exaggerated. 

The Globe by Richard Croft is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

It is fun to see how the same words can be reinterpreted by an actor, with different emphases or cadences. Where one might let their voice break of heartbreak, another may get more forceful with anger, both valid interpretations. I often find myself responding more on an emotional level to a live performance than to a recorded one on a screen. Perhaps because there is a more direct connection with a live person, when one could reach out and touch them, it feels somehow more real even if the sets are clearly more fake. That is the strange paradox of a live performance, when so much is stripped away by the very nature of a play, what is left can seem more real than a movie filmed with a full set. I do not remember all the films I have seen. I do not usually have strong emotional reactions to movies. I certainly don’t remember most of the episodes of the hundreds of shows I’ve consumed, but I do remember the plays. I remember how they made me feel. I remember how the actors moved, the inflection in their voices. I remember magic. To this day, A Midsummer’s Night Dream, The Tempest, A Comedy of Heirs and The Taming of the Shrew remain etched in my mind. I can still hear the echoing voices projected from the amphitheater. 

How you can complete this item: 

If you have not seen a live play, I do recommend you go to one. It doesn’t have to be Shakespeare. While he is considered by many to be one of the greatest playwrights that ever lived, he is not for everyone, much in the same way not everyone enjoys Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musicals or think Taylor Swift is the greatest song writer that ever graced the stage (I would be one of those people). Find what would interest you, there are plenty of plays to interest anyone. Be like my mother, scour the newspapers (or facebook events page) to see what live shows may be in your area. Many cities support the arts and try to help the public access them by putting on shows in places like parks or larger theaters. Pack a picnic, let the kids play on the playground until the show begins and then lean back in your chair and lose yourself for an hour or two in something truly phenomenal. 

Completed: Childhood

Miles from home: 12

Cost: Free