Boom.

a song to set the scene // the black hills by tim heintz

BOOM, thundered the sky.

Jostled awake, I looked to my window.

It was just after 5am.

I know that sound, I thought.

I nudged my gem, who was sleeping soundly beside me.

“It’s thunder,” I whispered, like a kid on Christmas morning.

Wrapping myself in the nearest blanket, I got out of bed and went to open my curtains.

Even at 5am, I could see clear as day.

It was pouring. With monsoon-like rain coming and pounding the metal roof of my house, I stood at the window and watched in awe at the torrential downpour quenching our thirsty earth.

While rain in Alaska isn’t uncommon, it had been near a month since our last shower. Combined with hot 70 degree days and active winds dancing across the Peninsula, and you have some very extreme fire danger.

So to not only wake up to rain but…

BOOM, clapped the clouds.

“It’s thunder!” I repeated again. I was sure this time.

Like I was saying: to not only wake up to rain but thunder as well is one rare occurrence here in Alaska.

Wide awake, and awestruck at being witness to such wonderful weather, I slid my window open just a little further to let the sound pour in.

With the smell of freshly picked lilacs from my garden and the sound of mighty thunder bellowing outside, it was a wakeup of the senses.

And it was sensational.

When I did finally crawl back under the covers to cuddle with my gem, mere minutes had passed before…

CLANG CLANG CLANG.

Bolting upright, I nudged my gem, yet again.

“Is that… hail?!”

Sure enough, rain had been replaced by pea-sized balls of hail, bouncing off the metal roof and landing softly on the grass.

What. The. Hail.

When the storm eventually settled, I enjoyed a few more minutes of sleep before starting my day. Sitting down to breakfast, I brought out a journal I hadn’t written in awhile, a “5-minute journal.”

I had been struggling, recently, with the dryness of my days. Lacking purpose and fulfillment, I’ve been feeling as though I’m repeating the same cycle, day after day: wake up, work, nap, eat, sleep.

Ironically, it was this mundanity and repetitiveness that inspired me to pull out the journal in the first place. For in the past, writing had forced me to really look inward to find goodness in each and every day.

Centered around the idea of waking up and going to bed with an appreciative, grateful, and positive pattern of thinking, I brought it out of hibernation in the hopes that it might enlighten me.

First question:

Today, I am grateful for…

Well hail that’s easy.

1.) Thunder!

As I sat at my table and finished answering the rest of the questions, I noticed the “quote of the day” by Gary Tan at the top of the page:

We don’t really want things. We want the feelings we think those things will give us.

We want the feelings we think those things will give us.

Huh.

Well that’s thought provoking.

And absolutely right.

As I sat there, in the quiet peace of the morning, I realized something.

It’s not the things that matter most. It’s the emotional response elicited from those things that hold the most meaning.

Take thunderstorms.

Obviously, I love them. But do you know why?

It’s not the actual thunder (though that science will forever amaze me). The reason I cherish thunderstorms so much is because of the memories they hold: trips to South Dakota visiting my grandparents, holed up in the house watching as thunderstorms raged across the plains.

I love thunder because of those tender memories. It invites some feeling in me that makes me get up at 5am and stare out the window like a kid on Christmas morning.

Maybe my days sometimes feel the same because I don’t take the time to really notice “feelings.” Perhaps, instead of giving up on myself and dwelling on the sameness of each day, I should instead focus on what those things can possibly evoke: joy, fullness, and an opportunity to witness a thunderstorm.

BOOM.

The Show Must Go On.

a song to set the scene // thank you and goodnight by the angels

The universe did not want us to put on this show.

At least, that’s what it felt like.

It all started a little over two years ago.

If you’ll recall, two years ago was 2020.

We had just started rehearsals for The Marvelous Wonderettes.

Things were going good, great even.

But about two weeks into practice, we were shut down by the novel coronavirus.

And everything came to a halt.

Dining in at restaurants became a thing of the past.

Travel restrictions became increasingly strict.

All concerts, shows, basketball games, and social events were cancelled.

And for awhile, the way of life involved just… staying home.

So the show was put on hold.

We ceased practicing our four part harmonies, we stopped studying lines, and two whole years went by before we were able to dust off the old scripts and work on getting the show back up on its feet.

Getting reacquainted with my character, Betty Jean, I realized that it hadn’t only been two years since I started work on this show, but it had been ten years since I had done theatre at all, of any kind.

Ten years!

Wow.

So, I was a little wobbly on the legs.

Lines themselves came surprisingly easy. Studying over my morning bowl of cereal, most of my little quips conveniently came after Cindy Lou spoke, so line memorization got done first.

Choreography was choppy but: practice makes perfect!

Singing, on the other hand, was the biggest challenge. With over 28 songs from the 1950’s and ‘60’s, I very quickly discovered that The Marvelous Wonderettes was the most vocally challenging show I had ever worked on.

So, between work, work, and work, I was now memorizing harmonies for 28 different songs.

On the outisde, the show might’ve looked like an addional burden. Late nights choreographing musical numbers to classics like Lollipop and Mr. Sandman, practicing lines in bed with my gem, and finding D notes instead of G notes was, indeed, additional work.

But in reality, working on the show was one of the few releases from my stressful life. It was a break, something to look forward to.

As opening week was coming around the corner, and just as I was starting to feel confident about finally getting this show up on the stage after two whole years, I ironically tested positive for Covid.

Oh how the the universe did not want us to put on this show.

Well, we put it on anyway.

(upon full recovery from the ‘rona)

And it was a hit.

We sold out every night.

We made the audience laugh. We made the audience cry. We even compelled them to sing along to the classics we were performing.

And all that hard work, all those obstacles, and all those years waiting to perform this show was worth it.

I mean, it always is.

Because despite what the universe might’ve thrown our way, theatre prevailed.

And the show did go on.