- Published on
I was a non-smoking rarely drinking vegetarian who exercised regularly and meditated. On July 23, 2014, six weeks before my 30th birthday, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. A fast acting blood cancer that more commonly affects men in their sixties.
Although there have been improvements, the treatment for AML has not changed much in the past thirty years. It is painful and debilitating, requiring endless needles, scans, and constant monitoring.
Following a life-saving stem cell transplant at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center (MSK) in November 2014, I underwent a long and difficult recovery period. I lost weight, gained it all back and then some. I went into early onset menopause. My fingernails fell off one by one. I developed sores on the soles of my feet. I had depression, anxiety, and fits of rage. I lost my libido. I couldn't work. I couldn't ride the subway. Couldn't eat take out. Couldn't go to the theatre. I lost an octave in my singing voice. A lot of the time I just felt really fucking tired.
For much of the past three years I have felt robbed. I did all the "right things" and I still got blood cancer. It took me out of commission for almost two years. The emotional and mental side effects are an ongoing battle.
While the five-year survival rate for leukemia in general is over 60%, the five-year survival rate for AML patients is currently at about 26%. We still do not know what causes leukemia.
I am alive today thanks to the amazing work of my team at MSK. Their research is ongoing, and expensive. Imagine if we could find a way to test marrow without painful needles? Or provide treatment that isn't so debilitating? What if we knew what causes leukemia in the first place and could prevent it from occurring again? What if we could make leukemia a disease of the past?
This is why, on November 5, 2017, a week after the third anniversary of my transplant, I’m going to be running the NYC Marathon. You can support me by donating to Fred's Team. Your donation will ensure the amazing folk at MSK can continue their research in making leukemia history.
Will you join me?
Although there have been improvements, the treatment for AML has not changed much in the past thirty years. It is painful and debilitating, requiring endless needles, scans, and constant monitoring.
Following a life-saving stem cell transplant at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center (MSK) in November 2014, I underwent a long and difficult recovery period. I lost weight, gained it all back and then some. I went into early onset menopause. My fingernails fell off one by one. I developed sores on the soles of my feet. I had depression, anxiety, and fits of rage. I lost my libido. I couldn't work. I couldn't ride the subway. Couldn't eat take out. Couldn't go to the theatre. I lost an octave in my singing voice. A lot of the time I just felt really fucking tired.
For much of the past three years I have felt robbed. I did all the "right things" and I still got blood cancer. It took me out of commission for almost two years. The emotional and mental side effects are an ongoing battle.
While the five-year survival rate for leukemia in general is over 60%, the five-year survival rate for AML patients is currently at about 26%. We still do not know what causes leukemia.
I am alive today thanks to the amazing work of my team at MSK. Their research is ongoing, and expensive. Imagine if we could find a way to test marrow without painful needles? Or provide treatment that isn't so debilitating? What if we knew what causes leukemia in the first place and could prevent it from occurring again? What if we could make leukemia a disease of the past?
This is why, on November 5, 2017, a week after the third anniversary of my transplant, I’m going to be running the NYC Marathon. You can support me by donating to Fred's Team. Your donation will ensure the amazing folk at MSK can continue their research in making leukemia history.
Will you join me?
- Published on
I have always loved running.
Three years ago I was training for a half marathon
And then I got cancer.
A year-and-a-half ago I was signed up to run a 5km race
Then had to drop out two days before because my counts dropped too low.
Nine months ago I signed up with a personal trainer
She whipped my butt but she got me moving again.
And on Saturday
After 23 weeks of training
I ran a half marathon
And it felt So. Damn. Good.
The past few years have been such a rollercoaster.
Not just physically, but emotionally too
Depression and anxiety have been slaying me
I have had trouble getting out of bed
And then I had panic attacks before heading out the front door.
But I always feel good when I’m running
The aches and pains that bother me when I’m not moving
Seem to go away when I’m running
(Knock on wood)
I’ve been training with the Nike+ Run Club App
It’s such an incredible resource (and free!)
You plug in the date of your race,
Your level of fitness and experience
And it builds a training program
That adapts itself as you complete (or miss) the runs.
It got to me a level of fitness I’ve never had before.
Mid-way through the training
A friend sent me a copy of Born to Run
It was a game changer
It got me thinking about running in a whole new way
I went from enjoying running
To being passionate about it.
Race day was so thrilling
The sea of people in active wear
The people who come to cheer on their friends and family members and perfect strangers
The homemade signs
You’re running better than our government!
You’re almost at Nathan’s! and
Tap to Power Up! beneath pictures of Mario Kart mushrooms and stars
The volunteers at the fluid stations
Pouring cups of water and gatorade
Cheering the runners as we zip through
Looking great runners! Keep it up!
The bands dotted sporadically throughout the course
Rock bands and jazz bands, and at one point, a lone fiddle player
The way the runners encourage each other
As we passed mile markers, a runner would call out the mile number
And everyone would cheer.
In the last 800m of the race
My playlist switched to “Put on Your Sunday Clothes” from Hello, Dolly!
Out there, there’s a world outside of Yonkers!
I got so emotional
I’m doing the things! Running feels amazing again!
I’m healthy and I’m here
It feels like forever since I've felt this good.
I was tired at the end
Needed a nap and two dinners,
But I wasn’t dead
I could actually walk the next day without pain and
Two days later I was ready for another run.
Yesterday, I did my first training run for the NYC Marathon.
Bring it on.
Three years ago I was training for a half marathon
And then I got cancer.
A year-and-a-half ago I was signed up to run a 5km race
Then had to drop out two days before because my counts dropped too low.
Nine months ago I signed up with a personal trainer
She whipped my butt but she got me moving again.
And on Saturday
After 23 weeks of training
I ran a half marathon
And it felt So. Damn. Good.
The past few years have been such a rollercoaster.
Not just physically, but emotionally too
Depression and anxiety have been slaying me
I have had trouble getting out of bed
And then I had panic attacks before heading out the front door.
But I always feel good when I’m running
The aches and pains that bother me when I’m not moving
Seem to go away when I’m running
(Knock on wood)
I’ve been training with the Nike+ Run Club App
It’s such an incredible resource (and free!)
You plug in the date of your race,
Your level of fitness and experience
And it builds a training program
That adapts itself as you complete (or miss) the runs.
It got to me a level of fitness I’ve never had before.
Mid-way through the training
A friend sent me a copy of Born to Run
It was a game changer
It got me thinking about running in a whole new way
I went from enjoying running
To being passionate about it.
Race day was so thrilling
The sea of people in active wear
The people who come to cheer on their friends and family members and perfect strangers
The homemade signs
You’re running better than our government!
You’re almost at Nathan’s! and
Tap to Power Up! beneath pictures of Mario Kart mushrooms and stars
The volunteers at the fluid stations
Pouring cups of water and gatorade
Cheering the runners as we zip through
Looking great runners! Keep it up!
The bands dotted sporadically throughout the course
Rock bands and jazz bands, and at one point, a lone fiddle player
The way the runners encourage each other
As we passed mile markers, a runner would call out the mile number
And everyone would cheer.
In the last 800m of the race
My playlist switched to “Put on Your Sunday Clothes” from Hello, Dolly!
Out there, there’s a world outside of Yonkers!
I got so emotional
I’m doing the things! Running feels amazing again!
I’m healthy and I’m here
It feels like forever since I've felt this good.
I was tired at the end
Needed a nap and two dinners,
But I wasn’t dead
I could actually walk the next day without pain and
Two days later I was ready for another run.
Yesterday, I did my first training run for the NYC Marathon.
Bring it on.
- Published on
Today was a momentous day: my two-and-a-half year post-transplant check-up.
It was surreal going to the hospital after a full six months off from appointments. For one thing, the new Q line makes the trip infinitely faster - one train instead of two, and 50 minutes travel time instead of an hour and a half. We've come a long way from Aaron driving a bald, tired, and often cranky Lulu across New York City!
After the routine blood work and vitals check, I was ecstatic to see that my weight has finally gone back down to my "normal" pre-cancer level. Being in early menopause, losing weight has become really difficult. Eating well and a mountain of running have finally helped to shift it.
I had my next set of vaccinations, and then we sat around and waited for two hours to see my doctor.
I always have a nervous anxiety in the lead up to my check-ups. Fear of relapse, fear of being told my counts are playing up again, fear that I'll be trapped inside the hospital for ever. But today, I was nervous excited. This is the first time my doctors will have seen me well. Even for my two year check up, I had a bad cold and was not feeling my finest.
Today, two-and-a-half years post-transplant, I got to tell my medical team that I'm running the Brooklyn Half Marathon in a few weeks. Then I got to tell them that I've signed up to run the New York Marathon, which coincidentally takes place around the third anniversary of my transplant, and I'm going to be raising funds for leukemia research at Sloan Kettering. My nurse practitioner got all teary. My usually unflappable doctor told me that I had inspired her to take up running again. It was the best way to say thank you to my team for saving my life.
My counts are looking great, I'm scheduled to finish up my re-vaccinations, and I am officially being moved over to the Survivorship Team for future check-ups. All things going well (knock on wood), I'll have my three year check-up in November, and then I'll be down to one visit a year! And no more bone marrow biopsies!
The past two and a half years have been an uphill slog.
Today, I feel awesome. Tonight, I'm working on Broadway (ok, I'm still in front of house... but baby steps. I had a stem cell transplant not so long ago!). In a few weeks I'm running a half marathon. In six months, I'm running the New York City marathon, baby!! In a year... who knows?
Right now, I'm sitting in the Rose Main Reading at the New York Public Library. Afternoon sunlight is streaming through the windows, and in between sentences I'm staring up at the ornate cloud-painted ceiling. And I feel so very lucky to be here.
It was surreal going to the hospital after a full six months off from appointments. For one thing, the new Q line makes the trip infinitely faster - one train instead of two, and 50 minutes travel time instead of an hour and a half. We've come a long way from Aaron driving a bald, tired, and often cranky Lulu across New York City!
After the routine blood work and vitals check, I was ecstatic to see that my weight has finally gone back down to my "normal" pre-cancer level. Being in early menopause, losing weight has become really difficult. Eating well and a mountain of running have finally helped to shift it.
I had my next set of vaccinations, and then we sat around and waited for two hours to see my doctor.
I always have a nervous anxiety in the lead up to my check-ups. Fear of relapse, fear of being told my counts are playing up again, fear that I'll be trapped inside the hospital for ever. But today, I was nervous excited. This is the first time my doctors will have seen me well. Even for my two year check up, I had a bad cold and was not feeling my finest.
Today, two-and-a-half years post-transplant, I got to tell my medical team that I'm running the Brooklyn Half Marathon in a few weeks. Then I got to tell them that I've signed up to run the New York Marathon, which coincidentally takes place around the third anniversary of my transplant, and I'm going to be raising funds for leukemia research at Sloan Kettering. My nurse practitioner got all teary. My usually unflappable doctor told me that I had inspired her to take up running again. It was the best way to say thank you to my team for saving my life.
My counts are looking great, I'm scheduled to finish up my re-vaccinations, and I am officially being moved over to the Survivorship Team for future check-ups. All things going well (knock on wood), I'll have my three year check-up in November, and then I'll be down to one visit a year! And no more bone marrow biopsies!
The past two and a half years have been an uphill slog.
Today, I feel awesome. Tonight, I'm working on Broadway (ok, I'm still in front of house... but baby steps. I had a stem cell transplant not so long ago!). In a few weeks I'm running a half marathon. In six months, I'm running the New York City marathon, baby!! In a year... who knows?
Right now, I'm sitting in the Rose Main Reading at the New York Public Library. Afternoon sunlight is streaming through the windows, and in between sentences I'm staring up at the ornate cloud-painted ceiling. And I feel so very lucky to be here.
- Published on
It was with great sadness today
That I learnt of Amy Krouse Rosenthal's passing
She is (was?) a writer and artist I have long admired
Her "7 notes on life"
Became guiding lights for me
The way she played with words
Made whimsy out of the everyday
The Beckoning of Lovely
My first encounter with The Bean
Money growing on trees
She attempted a collaborative project
A kind of pre-cursor to HitRecord
The movie wasn't great
And she owned it
She said, "this isn't my best work. I'm going back to the drawing board"
And back she went
And wrote wonderful books
And today I read
She has died of
Stupid fucking cancer
In the weeks before her death,
In true Amy KR style,
She penned a letter in the New York Times
Explaining why women might want to marry her husband
Her astonishing ability to capture the magic of words and life
Even as she was dying.
That I learnt of Amy Krouse Rosenthal's passing
She is (was?) a writer and artist I have long admired
Her "7 notes on life"
Became guiding lights for me
The way she played with words
Made whimsy out of the everyday
The Beckoning of Lovely
My first encounter with The Bean
Money growing on trees
She attempted a collaborative project
A kind of pre-cursor to HitRecord
The movie wasn't great
And she owned it
She said, "this isn't my best work. I'm going back to the drawing board"
And back she went
And wrote wonderful books
And today I read
She has died of
Stupid fucking cancer
In the weeks before her death,
In true Amy KR style,
She penned a letter in the New York Times
Explaining why women might want to marry her husband
Her astonishing ability to capture the magic of words and life
Even as she was dying.
In her TEDx Talk, Amy told us:
Always trust magic
Beckon the lovely
(We are all) Connected
Do (Just DO it!)
(Allow for) Empty Spaces
Figure it out as you go
Go to it
Beckon the lovely
(We are all) Connected
Do (Just DO it!)
(Allow for) Empty Spaces
Figure it out as you go
Go to it
And so, we shall.
- Published on
A bunch of people spent Friday
Marking the route
Setting up tables
Putting up signs
The trucks delivered the port-a-loos
Another bunch of people got up early today to set up cups of water and boxes of bagels and apples
Someone wired the PA
Lay the tracking pads
More people still set up tables with the bibs and safety pins and clear plastic bags for personal belongings
All so another bunch of people could run around in a circle
I was one of the people running around in a circle
We convened early in the morning
In a misty Prospect Park
Several thousand people dressed in active wear and sneakers
Ready to run a 4 mile loop
Through the gorgeous, glorious
Prospect Park
The starting horn blasts
We shuffle towards the start line
And we're off!
People cheer on the sidelines
Waving handmade signs
"You got this!"
"Looking strong!"
Clackers click and cowbells sing
(We definitely need more cowbell)
Others observe, bewildered
Why are all these people running?
It's humanity at its goddamn finest
Human bodies of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds hurtling through space
The power of the human spirit
My favorite runners are not the elite athletes that have practically finished before my group has even shuffled past the start line
But the Achilles Foundation runners
People who move with walkers or canes and who have some kind of disability
Assisted by volunteer runners who wear bright orange shirts
The comforting sound of thousands of feet on the pavement
The dogs running in the middle of the park
The cyclists zipping by
Traces of pine scented air, the spirit of the remains of Christmas trees scattered in the gardens
I'm weirdly emotional
It's just 4 miles, a little over 6km. Not much in the grand scheme of things for regular runners
Three years ago this felt impossible
Two years ago this was impossible
One year ago it seemed impossible
Today, I did it.
The end.
Marking the route
Setting up tables
Putting up signs
The trucks delivered the port-a-loos
Another bunch of people got up early today to set up cups of water and boxes of bagels and apples
Someone wired the PA
Lay the tracking pads
More people still set up tables with the bibs and safety pins and clear plastic bags for personal belongings
All so another bunch of people could run around in a circle
I was one of the people running around in a circle
We convened early in the morning
In a misty Prospect Park
Several thousand people dressed in active wear and sneakers
Ready to run a 4 mile loop
Through the gorgeous, glorious
Prospect Park
The starting horn blasts
We shuffle towards the start line
And we're off!
People cheer on the sidelines
Waving handmade signs
"You got this!"
"Looking strong!"
Clackers click and cowbells sing
(We definitely need more cowbell)
Others observe, bewildered
Why are all these people running?
It's humanity at its goddamn finest
Human bodies of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds hurtling through space
The power of the human spirit
My favorite runners are not the elite athletes that have practically finished before my group has even shuffled past the start line
But the Achilles Foundation runners
People who move with walkers or canes and who have some kind of disability
Assisted by volunteer runners who wear bright orange shirts
The comforting sound of thousands of feet on the pavement
The dogs running in the middle of the park
The cyclists zipping by
Traces of pine scented air, the spirit of the remains of Christmas trees scattered in the gardens
I'm weirdly emotional
It's just 4 miles, a little over 6km. Not much in the grand scheme of things for regular runners
Three years ago this felt impossible
Two years ago this was impossible
One year ago it seemed impossible
Today, I did it.
The end.
- Published on
When Aaron and I got married, we figured we'd sort out our honeymoon after we'd moved to New York.
We moved to New York and, less than a month later, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.
We've spent the last two and a half years dealing with that little episode.
Early on in the treatment, my social worker at Sloan Kettering told us about the Dream Team. The philanthropic arm of the hospital operates like the Make a Wish or Starlight Foundation programs. She said people often took vacations, or met people they admired.
I knew I wanted a honeymoon with my love. The person who has held my hand through stupid cancer. Who stayed up with me when I was puking or shitting my guts out, who dressed me when my fingernails were falling off, who cooked and cleaned, and took care of bills and insurance and life while I was unable to do so. And after all that, he somehow still finds me attractive and makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful person on earth. He is the most patient, kind, and loving person I know. This guy deserves a nice holiday where he gets taken care of!
We were initially going to go to Puerto Rico. Then my social worker told us it wasn't going to work out because it was too expensive for the dates we wanted. There was a possibility of a place called Guana Island, were we interested?
I googled Guana Island and just about fell out of my chair.
We moved to New York and, less than a month later, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.
We've spent the last two and a half years dealing with that little episode.
Early on in the treatment, my social worker at Sloan Kettering told us about the Dream Team. The philanthropic arm of the hospital operates like the Make a Wish or Starlight Foundation programs. She said people often took vacations, or met people they admired.
I knew I wanted a honeymoon with my love. The person who has held my hand through stupid cancer. Who stayed up with me when I was puking or shitting my guts out, who dressed me when my fingernails were falling off, who cooked and cleaned, and took care of bills and insurance and life while I was unable to do so. And after all that, he somehow still finds me attractive and makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful person on earth. He is the most patient, kind, and loving person I know. This guy deserves a nice holiday where he gets taken care of!
We were initially going to go to Puerto Rico. Then my social worker told us it wasn't going to work out because it was too expensive for the dates we wanted. There was a possibility of a place called Guana Island, were we interested?
I googled Guana Island and just about fell out of my chair.
this is what comes up when you google Guana Island
Ummm... yes please!
We sent our passport details and the flights were booked. The trip was also organized to allow us a quick trip to Richmond to spend some time with Aaron's parents.
Three flights and a car ride around a large fence at Tortola Airport found us on a small boat headed to Guana Island. Chris, our captain, was a young Kiwi-Brit who had been working in the British Virgin Island (referred to by all the locals as the 'BVI') for around three years.
In the dark, we crossed the bay. A large dark hill loomed in front of the boat.
“That's Guana Island. Of course, if looks much better in the day…”
We rounded what we later learned to be, Monkey Point, and came into a cove. The boat’s spotlight illuminated clear water and white sand. Up the hill from the beachside dock, we could lights illuminating square white buildings.
We were transferred into golf carts and headed up the hill. The road was steep, and even at night the driver went at a terrific pace. We giggled as we drove under a canopy of leaves. It was deliciously warm, and the air smelt sweet and fresh. Where are we?!
The guide took us to our room, Ayegata 2 (named for one of the many islands in the BVI). We were told we would have an amazing view of the ocean in the morning. Dinner was being served in the dining area as soon as we were ready.
Our bags were delivered, and we changed into Guana appropriate dinnerware - collared shirt for Aaron and a long dress for me. In the 1930s, the families and groups of people living on the island lived in tents, had no hot water, and bought in all their supplies by row boat, but “they always dressed up for dinner.” The island now has somewhat upgraded from the tents and cold water, but the tradition of dressing up for dinner remains.
Upon entering the dining area, we were shown the bar.
“It’s an open bar, with an honor system. Sometimes there's a barman, otherwise just help yourself. Just record your drinks in the log.”
We promptly ordered mojitos.
We were seated on a candlelit terrace overlooking the dark ocean. The lovely staff proceeded to serve an amazing four course dinner, paired with matching wines. Carrot soup, followed by a salad bursting with fresh tropical fruits and spicy greens. Crackled pork served with roasted yams, potatoes, and tiny onions bursting with flavor. For dessert there was chocolate coulant, a kind of warm cakey muffin oozing chocolate, paired with strawberries that had definitely spent a good portion of their life in a bowl of icing sugar, and vanilla ice cream.
Throughout the night I kept waking up and looking expectantly out the window. Is it daytime yet?!
We sent our passport details and the flights were booked. The trip was also organized to allow us a quick trip to Richmond to spend some time with Aaron's parents.
Three flights and a car ride around a large fence at Tortola Airport found us on a small boat headed to Guana Island. Chris, our captain, was a young Kiwi-Brit who had been working in the British Virgin Island (referred to by all the locals as the 'BVI') for around three years.
In the dark, we crossed the bay. A large dark hill loomed in front of the boat.
“That's Guana Island. Of course, if looks much better in the day…”
We rounded what we later learned to be, Monkey Point, and came into a cove. The boat’s spotlight illuminated clear water and white sand. Up the hill from the beachside dock, we could lights illuminating square white buildings.
We were transferred into golf carts and headed up the hill. The road was steep, and even at night the driver went at a terrific pace. We giggled as we drove under a canopy of leaves. It was deliciously warm, and the air smelt sweet and fresh. Where are we?!
The guide took us to our room, Ayegata 2 (named for one of the many islands in the BVI). We were told we would have an amazing view of the ocean in the morning. Dinner was being served in the dining area as soon as we were ready.
Our bags were delivered, and we changed into Guana appropriate dinnerware - collared shirt for Aaron and a long dress for me. In the 1930s, the families and groups of people living on the island lived in tents, had no hot water, and bought in all their supplies by row boat, but “they always dressed up for dinner.” The island now has somewhat upgraded from the tents and cold water, but the tradition of dressing up for dinner remains.
Upon entering the dining area, we were shown the bar.
“It’s an open bar, with an honor system. Sometimes there's a barman, otherwise just help yourself. Just record your drinks in the log.”
We promptly ordered mojitos.
We were seated on a candlelit terrace overlooking the dark ocean. The lovely staff proceeded to serve an amazing four course dinner, paired with matching wines. Carrot soup, followed by a salad bursting with fresh tropical fruits and spicy greens. Crackled pork served with roasted yams, potatoes, and tiny onions bursting with flavor. For dessert there was chocolate coulant, a kind of warm cakey muffin oozing chocolate, paired with strawberries that had definitely spent a good portion of their life in a bowl of icing sugar, and vanilla ice cream.
Throughout the night I kept waking up and looking expectantly out the window. Is it daytime yet?!
View from our room
When we awoke, a calm blue ocean stretched out in front of us.
Breakfast consisted of cheese, cured meats, and fresh fruit. There were also options for cereal, granola, yogurt, and hot breakfast with eggs of your choice cooked to order.
After breakfast, we were taken on a tour of the facilities, and signed up for various activities.
Before hitting the beach, we decided to do one of the many hikes that have been mapped out on the island. The Pyramid Trail started right outside our room, and promised great views and a trip to the rock the island is named for.
The trail was marked as easy, and we both became slightly unnerved at the island's ranking. The path was steep, rocky, narrow, and surprisingly challenging.
Breakfast consisted of cheese, cured meats, and fresh fruit. There were also options for cereal, granola, yogurt, and hot breakfast with eggs of your choice cooked to order.
After breakfast, we were taken on a tour of the facilities, and signed up for various activities.
Before hitting the beach, we decided to do one of the many hikes that have been mapped out on the island. The Pyramid Trail started right outside our room, and promised great views and a trip to the rock the island is named for.
The trail was marked as easy, and we both became slightly unnerved at the island's ranking. The path was steep, rocky, narrow, and surprisingly challenging.
All around us were beautiful trees, red turpentines, feathery tamarinds, and nest-like remnants of orchid plants. The dry climate is perfect for cacti, tall Organ Pipes and squat Turk's Caps. Dotted amongst the trees and cacti were an amazing array of bromeliads. Tiny lizards scuttled underfoot, and brown doves flitted in and out of the trees.
Half-way along we came to the edge of the island and the famed Iguana Rock for which is the island is named (we never did find out why the 'I' was dropped). Aaron, being a mountain goat, scampered down to check out the rocks further below. I stayed at the top taking panoramic pictures and trying to ignore my vertigo.
The path looped around the other side of the island. Aaron, who had become expert at spotting lizards, found our first real life iguana, a large pre-historic looking creature who scuttled away after we filmed it bobbing its head. We also spotted several common doves, and a tiny luminescent-green hummingbird with a long hook-shape beak.
Half-way along we came to the edge of the island and the famed Iguana Rock for which is the island is named (we never did find out why the 'I' was dropped). Aaron, being a mountain goat, scampered down to check out the rocks further below. I stayed at the top taking panoramic pictures and trying to ignore my vertigo.
The path looped around the other side of the island. Aaron, who had become expert at spotting lizards, found our first real life iguana, a large pre-historic looking creature who scuttled away after we filmed it bobbing its head. We also spotted several common doves, and a tiny luminescent-green hummingbird with a long hook-shape beak.
The beach
Down on the beach, the air was warm, the water was crystal clear and inviting, and pelicans and brown boobys were nose-diving for fish. Aaron decided to take out one of the small sailboats, and I went for a swim. It was fun to be surrounded by tiny silvery fish and the occasional larger fish with a yellow stripe down its side. We found a hammock hanging beneath some palm trees, and I’m pleased to report it was in perfect working order.
All that activity meant we were starving again. Lunch was a buffet affair, with fresh fish, porchetta, braised bok choy, several different salads all topped with fresh fruit, cous cous salads, bread… We were ready to leave the table when the waitress bought out dessert - orange cake topped with orange slices and mango sorbet. I hope you’re catching on that the food was really out of this world amazing.
In the afternoon we went on an Orchard Tour. Led by the resident botanic expert Vernon, we wandered around the large orchard learning about the cycles of papaya, bananas, mangos, bread fruit, and a whole array of fruits and vegetables. Vernon studied agriculture and agricultural tourism in Cuba, and has been applying organic and sustainable farming practices to the orchard for the past few years.
All that activity meant we were starving again. Lunch was a buffet affair, with fresh fish, porchetta, braised bok choy, several different salads all topped with fresh fruit, cous cous salads, bread… We were ready to leave the table when the waitress bought out dessert - orange cake topped with orange slices and mango sorbet. I hope you’re catching on that the food was really out of this world amazing.
In the afternoon we went on an Orchard Tour. Led by the resident botanic expert Vernon, we wandered around the large orchard learning about the cycles of papaya, bananas, mangos, bread fruit, and a whole array of fruits and vegetables. Vernon studied agriculture and agricultural tourism in Cuba, and has been applying organic and sustainable farming practices to the orchard for the past few years.
Boy samples coconut
We discovered that Guana has a farm-to-table program, so a lot of the produce we had been enjoying at our meals came straight from the orchard. At the end of the tour, we were treated to samples of freshly harvested star fruit, papaya, banana, mangosteen, coconut, miracle fruit, and a slice of key lime. Those of you who have ever tasted a key lime will know it’s incredibly sour. Eating a little miracle fruit beforehand has the amazing ability of making the key lime sweet. Apparently there is research underway to use miracle fruit as a natural alternative to sugar.
A sample of the produce in the Orchard. Basil, papaya, water apple, bananas, and eggplant.
After more beach time, we headed to cocktail hour and hors d’oeuvres in the living room of the main house. We met some of the other guests (during our stay, there were never more than 15-20 other guests on the whole island) and made friends with a lovely couple, Drew and Brian, from Atlanta. Dinner was another four course affair, this time with a bottle of champagne courtesy of the Dream Team.
On Saturday morning, we hiked Liao Wei Ping's Trail up to the bat caves. The trail is named for the island's former resident Dr Liao Wei Ping. Dr. Liao Wei Ping is a master gardener, ornithologist, sculptor and poet, who cut many of the trails by hand and started the orchard. He now resides in San Francisco.
Liao’s Trail is more inland than the Pyramid Trail, and so had a denser forest with twisting rope vines, huge trees that housed bromeliads and enormous termite nests, and a plethora of crabs. It was fun to stand still and hear them scurrying across the rocks and leaf litter on the path. We cut away from Liao’s Trail and onto the Orchard Trail which led back to the beach.
Liao’s Trail is more inland than the Pyramid Trail, and so had a denser forest with twisting rope vines, huge trees that housed bromeliads and enormous termite nests, and a plethora of crabs. It was fun to stand still and hear them scurrying across the rocks and leaf litter on the path. We cut away from Liao’s Trail and onto the Orchard Trail which led back to the beach.
The coconut was as big as my head (without the hair...obviously).
I discovered that it was possible to have fresh coconuts delivered to the beach, so began participating in an important tradition of drinking from a coconut on a daily basis.
View from the Massage Hut
Beverage time was followed by massage time. Massage and spa treatments take place in the Spa, a wooden hut with large mesh windows situated between the palm trees and sea grapes right on the beach. The masseuse, Lissa, placed a bowl of hibiscus flowers under the head rest, and with the sound of the Caribbean ocean lapping on the sand, I had one of the best deep tissue massages ever. I had never actually experienced a meditation or massage on a tropical beach with warm flower-scented air wafting through the windows and, I have to say, it lives up to its cliched hype.
After lunch, we headed out on a snorkeling trip. The expedition was led by Captain Chris and Jordan, a Guana Island staff member who has worked for many years as a professional fisherman, and we were joined by our friend Drew.
Chris parked the boat a little way from Monkey Point, taught us how to prepare the masks with detergent, and showed us how to fit the masks properly. In the water, we were given pool noodles so we could spend more time in the water without worrying too much about wearing ourselves out.
The water was a little chilly at first, and the visibility was not brilliant owing to the wind. Once we got closer to Monkey Point, the visibility improved and Aaron and I started to see what all the fuss over snorkeling/diving was all about. We saw several different corals, schools of silver bait fish diving in and out of the water, trumpet fish, rainbow trout, blue tangs, and even a barracuda. Jordan, our resident fisherman, kept declaring he wished he had a line as some hefty looking yellowtails kept swimming by.
After lunch, we headed out on a snorkeling trip. The expedition was led by Captain Chris and Jordan, a Guana Island staff member who has worked for many years as a professional fisherman, and we were joined by our friend Drew.
Chris parked the boat a little way from Monkey Point, taught us how to prepare the masks with detergent, and showed us how to fit the masks properly. In the water, we were given pool noodles so we could spend more time in the water without worrying too much about wearing ourselves out.
The water was a little chilly at first, and the visibility was not brilliant owing to the wind. Once we got closer to Monkey Point, the visibility improved and Aaron and I started to see what all the fuss over snorkeling/diving was all about. We saw several different corals, schools of silver bait fish diving in and out of the water, trumpet fish, rainbow trout, blue tangs, and even a barracuda. Jordan, our resident fisherman, kept declaring he wished he had a line as some hefty looking yellowtails kept swimming by.
Snorkelling at Monkey Point. My mask was being fixed when this photo was taken.
Back at the beach, it was novel reading and piña colada time.
In the evening we enjoyed hors d’oeuvres with our friends, and were seated at the largest table to share dinner with a group of people who have all been coming back to Guana on an annual basis for some twenty years. Our meal consisted of sweet pea soup, carrot salad (served with fresh fruit and micro greens from the orchard), halibut with fresh vegetables, and finished off with sweet cheese.
Sunday was Castaway Picnic day. We were taken by boat to Bigelow Beach and left for four hours to our own devices with a large picnic hamper and cooler. We set up the picnic under the shade of the sea grapes, and headed into the water for a snorkel. We saw more trumpet fish, bait fish, some beautiful fan-shaped corals, and Aaron spotted the tail of a moray eel. After our swim, we savored cheeses, prosciutto, salami, crusty bread smeared with olive oil, tortilla, fresh fruit, and some sweet white wine. Tres romantic and luxurious!
In the evening we enjoyed hors d’oeuvres with our friends, and were seated at the largest table to share dinner with a group of people who have all been coming back to Guana on an annual basis for some twenty years. Our meal consisted of sweet pea soup, carrot salad (served with fresh fruit and micro greens from the orchard), halibut with fresh vegetables, and finished off with sweet cheese.
Sunday was Castaway Picnic day. We were taken by boat to Bigelow Beach and left for four hours to our own devices with a large picnic hamper and cooler. We set up the picnic under the shade of the sea grapes, and headed into the water for a snorkel. We saw more trumpet fish, bait fish, some beautiful fan-shaped corals, and Aaron spotted the tail of a moray eel. After our swim, we savored cheeses, prosciutto, salami, crusty bread smeared with olive oil, tortilla, fresh fruit, and some sweet white wine. Tres romantic and luxurious!
We were left here on our own for four hours. The suffering.
Back on the main beach, I consumed my daily coconut and a piña colada.
In the afternoon, we decided to hike Long Man’s Trail down to Chicken Rock. The hike promised beautiful views of the island, and it delivered. The terrain was different again from the previous two hikes. Some sections were more open, rockier and dotted with cacti. Other sections were denser and more forest-like. In one section we came across a kaleidoscope of orange and black butterflies fluttering about. They were so full of color, so light, so whimsical, it was quite emotional watching them flit in and out of the trees. A little ways on, we came across yet another kaleidoscope of butterflies, this time yellow and black and with different patterns to the orange butterflies. We spotted lone white moths dancing through the air, and a beautiful iridescent green-grey moth hanging out on a leaf.
In the afternoon, we decided to hike Long Man’s Trail down to Chicken Rock. The hike promised beautiful views of the island, and it delivered. The terrain was different again from the previous two hikes. Some sections were more open, rockier and dotted with cacti. Other sections were denser and more forest-like. In one section we came across a kaleidoscope of orange and black butterflies fluttering about. They were so full of color, so light, so whimsical, it was quite emotional watching them flit in and out of the trees. A little ways on, we came across yet another kaleidoscope of butterflies, this time yellow and black and with different patterns to the orange butterflies. We spotted lone white moths dancing through the air, and a beautiful iridescent green-grey moth hanging out on a leaf.
View from Long Man's Trail
We didn’t make it all the way to Chicken Rock, because we realized the sun was starting to set. We arrived back near the main house to a lovely west-facing garden called the Garden of Eden where we were able to enjoy an incredible view of the sinking sun.
An hour later, we were noshing on hors d’oeuvres with our friends and sitting down to our last dinner on the island. Pumpkin soup, tomato and mozzarella salad (served with strawberries and pine nuts, amazing), dorade with grilled vegetables and duck breast with quinoa, and apple financier for dessert.
Monday morning was heart-breaking. How could we leave our island paradise? How would I cope without my daily coconut infusion? Not to mention that Richmond was -10C…
An hour later, we were noshing on hors d’oeuvres with our friends and sitting down to our last dinner on the island. Pumpkin soup, tomato and mozzarella salad (served with strawberries and pine nuts, amazing), dorade with grilled vegetables and duck breast with quinoa, and apple financier for dessert.
Monday morning was heart-breaking. How could we leave our island paradise? How would I cope without my daily coconut infusion? Not to mention that Richmond was -10C…
One of four resident giant tortoises
We did one last hike, this time down to the beach on the other side of the island. We also visited the island’s resident giant tortoises. We spent our last couple of island hours drinking fresh coconut and piña coladas on the beach, and then it was time to go home.
We boarded the boat, and waved goodbye to Guana Island. We each threw a red hibiscus into the water, hoping the flower would return to shore. If the theory behind the tradition is true, a flower returning the beach means we will also return...
We are incredibly grateful to the Sloan Kettering Dream Team and their amazing generosity for making our dream honeymoon come true. It was a very special way to start 2017.
We boarded the boat, and waved goodbye to Guana Island. We each threw a red hibiscus into the water, hoping the flower would return to shore. If the theory behind the tradition is true, a flower returning the beach means we will also return...
We are incredibly grateful to the Sloan Kettering Dream Team and their amazing generosity for making our dream honeymoon come true. It was a very special way to start 2017.
- Published on
Work-wise
I’ve had some hiccups over the past year
Getting back into work has been harder than I expected
Post-cancer
My attitude to work has changed
I’m less willing to put up with bullshit
When a work situation has less-than-ideal, but changeable
I have said something
Life is too short for shit...
It has not always gone well
After a series of winding roads
A couple of accidental wrong turns
And much sighing and wondering why getting a decently paid job doing what you love is so damn hard
I’m finally doing what I want to be doing
Being a performer in New York City
I’m auditioning again
And singing
And learning piano
And teaching voice
I signed up as an extra with Central Casting
Law and Order SVU (I can finally call myself a New York actress!)
Orange is the New Black
Power
It’s fun being on set
Seeing how it all works
Hanging out with the other extras in holding
Discussing the pro’s and con’s of “being union”
Sharing our lives from the outside world
It’s not glamorous
Sitting for hours in an audition waiting room
Or standing outside in early December pretending that it’s summer
(Those little pocket hand-warmer things are a godsend)
The instability of the work
The terrible pay
The constant striving to be better
But after such a long wait, it’s wonderful to be
Back in the game and
Playing.
I’ve had some hiccups over the past year
Getting back into work has been harder than I expected
Post-cancer
My attitude to work has changed
I’m less willing to put up with bullshit
When a work situation has less-than-ideal, but changeable
I have said something
Life is too short for shit...
It has not always gone well
After a series of winding roads
A couple of accidental wrong turns
And much sighing and wondering why getting a decently paid job doing what you love is so damn hard
I’m finally doing what I want to be doing
Being a performer in New York City
I’m auditioning again
And singing
And learning piano
And teaching voice
I signed up as an extra with Central Casting
Law and Order SVU (I can finally call myself a New York actress!)
Orange is the New Black
Power
It’s fun being on set
Seeing how it all works
Hanging out with the other extras in holding
Discussing the pro’s and con’s of “being union”
Sharing our lives from the outside world
It’s not glamorous
Sitting for hours in an audition waiting room
Or standing outside in early December pretending that it’s summer
(Those little pocket hand-warmer things are a godsend)
The instability of the work
The terrible pay
The constant striving to be better
But after such a long wait, it’s wonderful to be
Back in the game and
Playing.
- Published on
Before enlightenment
Doing the dishes
After enlightenment
Doing the dishes
Before cancer
Doing the work
After cancer
Doing the work
Do the lip trills and the scales
Put pen to paper
Do the drills and put on your sneakers
Do the work
And the breathing
Always with the breathing
Without your breath you’re dead
So breathe just breathe just breathe
Find inspiration
Inspire
Literally from the Latin
in + spirare, ”to breathe"
Being ok with starting again
But you’re not at the beginning
It may seem like the same spot
But actually, you’re on a different arm of the spiral
Are you spiraling up or down or in or out?
The old work informs the new work
Learning is never wasted
Everything you experience informs the next moment
Informs the work
The work to be well
To be fit
To sing and dance and write
To breathe
Always with the breathing
Before you start
Breathe
Before you end
Breathe
Breathe just breathe
Be here and
Do the work
Before enlightenment
Doing the dishes
After enlightenment
Doing the dishes
Doing the dishes
After enlightenment
Doing the dishes
Before cancer
Doing the work
After cancer
Doing the work
Do the lip trills and the scales
Put pen to paper
Do the drills and put on your sneakers
Do the work
And the breathing
Always with the breathing
Without your breath you’re dead
So breathe just breathe just breathe
Find inspiration
Inspire
Literally from the Latin
in + spirare, ”to breathe"
Being ok with starting again
But you’re not at the beginning
It may seem like the same spot
But actually, you’re on a different arm of the spiral
Are you spiraling up or down or in or out?
The old work informs the new work
Learning is never wasted
Everything you experience informs the next moment
Informs the work
The work to be well
To be fit
To sing and dance and write
To breathe
Always with the breathing
Before you start
Breathe
Before you end
Breathe
Breathe just breathe
Be here and
Do the work
Before enlightenment
Doing the dishes
After enlightenment
Doing the dishes
- Published on
I’m back at the gym. As I write this, post-workout, I have reflux, I feel exhausted, and I’m embarrassed at how unfit I’ve become. Two-and-a-half years ago I was running 10km three times a week goddamn it! And now I’m starting all over again. Except now it’s harder because Stupid Cancer, stupid thyroid, stupid debilitating effects of treatment.
Erin, my new trainer, puts me through my paces. I struggle. It is DIFFICULT. I try to focus on my goals. I’m getting show fit! Half-marathon! Cycle to work! I am a glistening warrior crushing my goals.
The goals feel overwhelming. I am not a glistening warrior. I am a sweaty heffalump with swamp butt.
I try to focus on the present moment. Just get through this crunch/squat/plank/minute of pedaling! A little voice says to me, “Come on! You’re a cancer survivor! You can do this!"
I cannot do this. Remember how all through Stupid Cancer I just wanted to curl up and die?
It is grueling, but I get through the session. Erin is encouraging and lovely. Everything burns.
I have a shower. I eat food. The post-workout endorphins kick in, and my inner voice says “Next round bitchez.”
Erin, my new trainer, puts me through my paces. I struggle. It is DIFFICULT. I try to focus on my goals. I’m getting show fit! Half-marathon! Cycle to work! I am a glistening warrior crushing my goals.
The goals feel overwhelming. I am not a glistening warrior. I am a sweaty heffalump with swamp butt.
I try to focus on the present moment. Just get through this crunch/squat/plank/minute of pedaling! A little voice says to me, “Come on! You’re a cancer survivor! You can do this!"
I cannot do this. Remember how all through Stupid Cancer I just wanted to curl up and die?
It is grueling, but I get through the session. Erin is encouraging and lovely. Everything burns.
I have a shower. I eat food. The post-workout endorphins kick in, and my inner voice says “Next round bitchez.”
- Published on
I left Australia five years ago today
The “five year plan” was this:
Go to drama school
Graduate
Work in London
Meet an English-American
Move to New York
Re-assess where I want to be, and figure out next five years.
If I could talk to you/me/us
In that moment when you’re sitting on the plane
Full of excitement and expectation and hope
What would I say to you? What would you want to know?
I think of Abuelo
Standing on the deck of the P&O Iberia
Leaning against the railing as
Sydney Harbour comes into view
Imagining his life in Australia
Believing that this would be the final destination for his family
When he got sick
Did he think about that moment?
Had his life turned out the way he imagined?
I never thought to ask until now
When I left Australia
I didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly
At the end of the summer Aaron produced a small white box and (unbeknownst to him)
I completely freaked out
Convinced he was about to propose
I was not ready, not even remotely interested in marriage
I was moving to London and going to drama school and I wasn’t about to let a boy get in the way of that
The box contained a pair of earrings
Handmade by one of our friends, a pair of
Beautiful little wasps on nets of honeycomb
They’re still one of my favorite accessories
Aaron didn’t know about the momentary freak out
Until a week or so ago
But first there was London and drama school
Wearing black every day
Finding neutral, and finding center
Learning plosives and fricatives and voiced and unvoiced sounds
Learning about resonance and keeping the larynx high and the importance of being warm
Learning resilience and defeat and gaining and losing my self esteem
Learning to be an effective tree
Learning Sunday in the Park with George and falling in love with that gorgeous rich sumptuous and incredible music and figuring that there must be as many dots in the score as there were in the painting
Going to drama school in a recession was
The best of times and
The worst
Without a job to pay the bills
I was ready to drop out
It was either school fees or rent
Then I was granted a scholarship
There was my aunt, who became my London Mum
L’Mum, as I now call her
And spending my twenty-seventh birthday walking around Highgate Cemetery and seeing a play about 9/11 and eating delicious pizza
Being treated to wonderful dinners and walks along the canals
There was flat-hunting as a foreigner in London
Visiting dingy flats with mouldy walls
And showers next to the bed
A shared toilet in the hallway
And being told I needed to give up half my life-savings for the privilege of living there
There was my tiny room in Clandon Gardens
With its double glazed windows
Room for a bed, and a desk, and not much else
Where one night, delirious from hours of studying
I raced outside and danced in the snow instead of going to bed
It was where Aaron and I spent our first Christmas together
We made polvoron and had Christmas Eve dinner at a pub in Islington
And I learnt that Christmas didn’t have to be stressful
On Christmas Day we stayed home
And watched Firefly and ate Wensleydale cheese
A chance encounter on the tube
Led me to a kindred spirit
And living in a room of my own
In Willesden Green
I had a window seat, and room to twirl in, space to sing and flute
And a huge park just down the road for running in
Speaking of a room of one’s own
Walking the streets once paced by
Virginia Woolf and Mary Wollstonecraft
I immersed myself in feminism
And read my way through the feminist canon
I lived in a 400-year-old house in Ruislip
Ran to the Lido and borrowed books from the library in the converted barn
After a year of listening obsessively to MusicalTalk
I got to be a guest presenter
And became friends with the person who started it all
I saw Idina Menzel and Marvin Hamlisch in concert
And met Sir Tim Rice, who extended his hand and said
“I’m Tim”
I saw Liza Minelli
And Alanis Morrissette and
The Cat Empire and
A Chorus Line, A Doll’s House, Matilda, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Light Princess, and Shrek
Much Ado, Rock of Ages, War Horse, and Phantom
Top Hat, Legally Blonde, Betty Blue Eyes, and Loserville
I saw tiny brand new musicals in black box theatres above pubs
And a wonderful re-telling of Arabian Nights
I saw Grounded at the Gate Theatre, and did a workshop with the actor
I wandered through Carnaby St and the twisting, winding alleyways that make up central London
I fell in love with Neal’s Yard and drank chocolate smoothies and bought hand-made soap
I ate haloumi burgers in Brick Lane
And salad from Food for Thought in Covent Garden
I visited the Globe
Stonehenge and St. Paul’s
Bath, Bristol, Brighton and Cardiff
In Oxford, I sat in the sun with Australian friends and watched the rowing
We went to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir, one of the largest Hindu temples outside of India
Mum took me to Geneva
And flew me to Lanzarote for Vicky’s fortieth
I applied for a job at a supermarket
And was told that 30 hours a week now constituted “part-time”
I trialled at a café where I spent three hours serving customers and clearing tables to be told the manager had changed her mind about needing someone extra, and refused to pay me
I eventually got work at Winter Wonderland
£6 an hour to sit in the freezing cold selling tickets in £5 denominations
I ushered at Central and smiled sweetly for wealthy patrons
When drama school was over, I temped in offices across London
Answering phones for the giants in finance, publishing, and media
The best job was ushering at the Cambridge and getting paid
To watch Matilda eight times a week
I went back to camp
It felt like going home
I discovered the joy of teaching and
Saw Yo-Yo Ma performing at Tanglewood
I walked a labyrinth
Your boy is walking ahead of you
He is walking at a slower pace
He has internalized mindfulness
He does it as a matter of course
Your fall into his rhythm
And breathe
We drove across America together and
I fell in love with Fort Collins
We went to the stupa for my birthday and had a picnic in the park
With market wine and cheese and bread
I spent my second Christmas with Aaron,
My first with his family in Richmond
When I arrived after a long day of travel
Aaron and Jesse had strung fairy lights across the porch
We had “Jewish Christmas”
Watched a movie and ate Chinese food
Aaron and I decided to get married
I waited impatiently for my fiancé visa
Quit my job at the Cambridge
And walked across Spain (again)
I arrived in Fort Collins at the beginning of winter
OpenStage and Old Town
Happy Heart and Wolverine Farm
My first Shakespeare
Volunteering and cycling and, best of all
Being with my love, at last
We packed up the car and drove east
Said goodbye to Ruth
My skin broke out in acne and I felt impossibly tired
And then it was Cancer
And Recovering from Cancer
Depression reared its ugly head and consumed me whole
I flew back to Australia
To say goodbye to Abuela
Sydney felt like an overgrown country town
Coming home to New York was a relief
We said goodbye to Jake
I was able to work again
I went to shows galore
I went to counseling
We visited Maine
And here you are.
Dear Me five years ago,
You go to drama school
You graduate (it feels weird)
You work in London
You meet an American
You move to New York
Right now you don't know it, but all of this happens and more
You fall in love with an American
Who is an atheist descended from communist Jews
Who doesn’t eat vegetables
Is a wonderful cook
And is the most patient, kind, loving and wonderful human you can ever imagine
You love and hate London
You are poor
You live in different parts of the city and are continually amazed by its size and history and beauty
You walk the Camino (again)
You haven’t heard of it yet, but you live in Fort Collins, Colorado. It’s beautiful.
You get sick. The sickest you have ever been, and it’s going to suck.
You get better. It’s going to be a slog, but it happens. And the heaviness and tiredness and depression get easier (I think).
You say goodbye to Abuela
You are in the room when she passes away
And it will be peaceful and beautiful and sad
You live in New York
In Brooklyn specifically – your neighborhood is awesome
You are loved and cared for and held by extraordinary people
And one day,
Five years from now
You will be sitting in an office in Manhattan, around the corner from Grand Central
(Yep, you work there!)
And you will reflect on all that has happened between now and then
All the people you have met
The places you have seen
The things that have made your heart sing and be light
And you will laugh at your Five Year Plan
And wonder
What’s next?
The “five year plan” was this:
Go to drama school
Graduate
Work in London
Meet an English-American
Move to New York
Re-assess where I want to be, and figure out next five years.
If I could talk to you/me/us
In that moment when you’re sitting on the plane
Full of excitement and expectation and hope
What would I say to you? What would you want to know?
I think of Abuelo
Standing on the deck of the P&O Iberia
Leaning against the railing as
Sydney Harbour comes into view
Imagining his life in Australia
Believing that this would be the final destination for his family
When he got sick
Did he think about that moment?
Had his life turned out the way he imagined?
I never thought to ask until now
When I left Australia
I didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly
At the end of the summer Aaron produced a small white box and (unbeknownst to him)
I completely freaked out
Convinced he was about to propose
I was not ready, not even remotely interested in marriage
I was moving to London and going to drama school and I wasn’t about to let a boy get in the way of that
The box contained a pair of earrings
Handmade by one of our friends, a pair of
Beautiful little wasps on nets of honeycomb
They’re still one of my favorite accessories
Aaron didn’t know about the momentary freak out
Until a week or so ago
But first there was London and drama school
Wearing black every day
Finding neutral, and finding center
Learning plosives and fricatives and voiced and unvoiced sounds
Learning about resonance and keeping the larynx high and the importance of being warm
Learning resilience and defeat and gaining and losing my self esteem
Learning to be an effective tree
Learning Sunday in the Park with George and falling in love with that gorgeous rich sumptuous and incredible music and figuring that there must be as many dots in the score as there were in the painting
Going to drama school in a recession was
The best of times and
The worst
Without a job to pay the bills
I was ready to drop out
It was either school fees or rent
Then I was granted a scholarship
There was my aunt, who became my London Mum
L’Mum, as I now call her
And spending my twenty-seventh birthday walking around Highgate Cemetery and seeing a play about 9/11 and eating delicious pizza
Being treated to wonderful dinners and walks along the canals
There was flat-hunting as a foreigner in London
Visiting dingy flats with mouldy walls
And showers next to the bed
A shared toilet in the hallway
And being told I needed to give up half my life-savings for the privilege of living there
There was my tiny room in Clandon Gardens
With its double glazed windows
Room for a bed, and a desk, and not much else
Where one night, delirious from hours of studying
I raced outside and danced in the snow instead of going to bed
It was where Aaron and I spent our first Christmas together
We made polvoron and had Christmas Eve dinner at a pub in Islington
And I learnt that Christmas didn’t have to be stressful
On Christmas Day we stayed home
And watched Firefly and ate Wensleydale cheese
A chance encounter on the tube
Led me to a kindred spirit
And living in a room of my own
In Willesden Green
I had a window seat, and room to twirl in, space to sing and flute
And a huge park just down the road for running in
Speaking of a room of one’s own
Walking the streets once paced by
Virginia Woolf and Mary Wollstonecraft
I immersed myself in feminism
And read my way through the feminist canon
I lived in a 400-year-old house in Ruislip
Ran to the Lido and borrowed books from the library in the converted barn
After a year of listening obsessively to MusicalTalk
I got to be a guest presenter
And became friends with the person who started it all
I saw Idina Menzel and Marvin Hamlisch in concert
And met Sir Tim Rice, who extended his hand and said
“I’m Tim”
I saw Liza Minelli
And Alanis Morrissette and
The Cat Empire and
A Chorus Line, A Doll’s House, Matilda, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Light Princess, and Shrek
Much Ado, Rock of Ages, War Horse, and Phantom
Top Hat, Legally Blonde, Betty Blue Eyes, and Loserville
I saw tiny brand new musicals in black box theatres above pubs
And a wonderful re-telling of Arabian Nights
I saw Grounded at the Gate Theatre, and did a workshop with the actor
I wandered through Carnaby St and the twisting, winding alleyways that make up central London
I fell in love with Neal’s Yard and drank chocolate smoothies and bought hand-made soap
I ate haloumi burgers in Brick Lane
And salad from Food for Thought in Covent Garden
I visited the Globe
Stonehenge and St. Paul’s
Bath, Bristol, Brighton and Cardiff
In Oxford, I sat in the sun with Australian friends and watched the rowing
We went to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir, one of the largest Hindu temples outside of India
Mum took me to Geneva
And flew me to Lanzarote for Vicky’s fortieth
I applied for a job at a supermarket
And was told that 30 hours a week now constituted “part-time”
I trialled at a café where I spent three hours serving customers and clearing tables to be told the manager had changed her mind about needing someone extra, and refused to pay me
I eventually got work at Winter Wonderland
£6 an hour to sit in the freezing cold selling tickets in £5 denominations
I ushered at Central and smiled sweetly for wealthy patrons
When drama school was over, I temped in offices across London
Answering phones for the giants in finance, publishing, and media
The best job was ushering at the Cambridge and getting paid
To watch Matilda eight times a week
I went back to camp
It felt like going home
I discovered the joy of teaching and
Saw Yo-Yo Ma performing at Tanglewood
I walked a labyrinth
Your boy is walking ahead of you
He is walking at a slower pace
He has internalized mindfulness
He does it as a matter of course
Your fall into his rhythm
And breathe
We drove across America together and
I fell in love with Fort Collins
We went to the stupa for my birthday and had a picnic in the park
With market wine and cheese and bread
I spent my second Christmas with Aaron,
My first with his family in Richmond
When I arrived after a long day of travel
Aaron and Jesse had strung fairy lights across the porch
We had “Jewish Christmas”
Watched a movie and ate Chinese food
Aaron and I decided to get married
I waited impatiently for my fiancé visa
Quit my job at the Cambridge
And walked across Spain (again)
I arrived in Fort Collins at the beginning of winter
OpenStage and Old Town
Happy Heart and Wolverine Farm
My first Shakespeare
Volunteering and cycling and, best of all
Being with my love, at last
We packed up the car and drove east
Said goodbye to Ruth
My skin broke out in acne and I felt impossibly tired
And then it was Cancer
And Recovering from Cancer
Depression reared its ugly head and consumed me whole
I flew back to Australia
To say goodbye to Abuela
Sydney felt like an overgrown country town
Coming home to New York was a relief
We said goodbye to Jake
I was able to work again
I went to shows galore
I went to counseling
We visited Maine
And here you are.
Dear Me five years ago,
You go to drama school
You graduate (it feels weird)
You work in London
You meet an American
You move to New York
Right now you don't know it, but all of this happens and more
You fall in love with an American
Who is an atheist descended from communist Jews
Who doesn’t eat vegetables
Is a wonderful cook
And is the most patient, kind, loving and wonderful human you can ever imagine
You love and hate London
You are poor
You live in different parts of the city and are continually amazed by its size and history and beauty
You walk the Camino (again)
You haven’t heard of it yet, but you live in Fort Collins, Colorado. It’s beautiful.
You get sick. The sickest you have ever been, and it’s going to suck.
You get better. It’s going to be a slog, but it happens. And the heaviness and tiredness and depression get easier (I think).
You say goodbye to Abuela
You are in the room when she passes away
And it will be peaceful and beautiful and sad
You live in New York
In Brooklyn specifically – your neighborhood is awesome
You are loved and cared for and held by extraordinary people
And one day,
Five years from now
You will be sitting in an office in Manhattan, around the corner from Grand Central
(Yep, you work there!)
And you will reflect on all that has happened between now and then
All the people you have met
The places you have seen
The things that have made your heart sing and be light
And you will laugh at your Five Year Plan
And wonder
What’s next?