Now listen to my declaration!

"When great people cross our paths, it forces us to reckon with what we're doing here." ~ Lin-Manuel Miranda

Yes, another Hamilton-inspired post ... well, not altogether.

I have been fortunate, throughout my life, to be surrounded by really inspiring people. Many in my performing arts experiences.

I have been out of the performing arts biz for six years now. In 2010, I left the Jersey Shore after wrapping up my last Nationals Competition with my dance students. I was relieved to walk away from some of the stresses of choreographing for and coaching a competitive dance company – parents, politics, drama. But the truth was, theatre and performing arts were – ARE – in my blood. You can’t just walk away.

Now, in 2016, I find that I have been living with this hole in my gut since leaving that beach town in the summer of 2010. Since then, I have tried to be spectator. I go to the theatre and it is the strangest sensation every time – pure and utter joy and elation, combined with the lump in my throat fighting back the tears because, yes, I threw away my shot! (look away … another - the second - Hamilton reference).

I sat in the audience, on Broadway, watched Wicked, Newsies, Motown, Les Mis, Kinky Boots, Book of Mormon, Hamilton … the list goes on and on. I took in as much of the DC theatre scene as possible. I wept watching Benjamin Platt at Arena Stage in previews of Dear Evan Hansen.

In 2013, December 8th to be exact, I was sitting in a make-up artist’s chair preparing for my wedding. A lovely bouquet of roses came through the door along with an envelope containing a gift certificate for classes at Broadway Dance Center. The note in the memo read, "I want you to find your passion again. I want you to find time to enjoy that passion." Two months later, I was lacing up my tap shoes and in class again … a little bit of that hole was filling up! But ... it was still there.

Where am I going with all this? I wonder why I settle for a hole in my gut. Why do I think I have to remain on the sidelines?

When I was 18, just a few weeks after college graduation, I boarded a plane for Denver, CO., to join 500 young people from all over the world, for Up With People staging - training, in layman's terms. It was probably the most exciting and terrifying time in my life. After five weeks learning the show, we would embark on a year-long tour of the U.S. and Europe. Staging was an exhilarating experience. I was surrounded by so many talented and creative people. I brought dance and vocals to the table … I thought I was SO talented ... until I met everyone else. I came having just had a very successful run at Nationals, as a competitor myself, but these people I was performing alongside, they played music, they MADE music. They had jam sessions and I stood on the periphery and watched in awe.

Fast forward seven months later. My cast (Cast A ’95) was in Paris for a series of performances nearby, and a few of us went to an Alanis Morissette concert at The Bataclan. You can see here why, today, that show has proved to be so meaningful. It inspired me – though taking me 20 years – to pick up some drum sticks and teach myself a new instrument. I WANT TO MAKE MUSIC.

Now, being in the throws of this borderline unhealthy fascination with Hamilton, the hole in my gut seems less and less acceptable. I no longer wish to be a spectator. I want to create again. Maybe my days of choreographing are behind me - maybe - but the tears that well up in my eyes anytime I see a beautiful piece of performance art are telling me that I am not done.

I am drafting a new bucket list. One that no longer involves running marathons and biking across half of Massachusetts – I have done those crazy things now and ... the hole is still in my gut.

1. Continue learning drums

2. Study Piano

3. Study guitar

4. Study music composition

5. Get involved in community theatre

6. Fill hole in gut

7. Stop. Making. Excuses.