From I was 14 till I was almost 18, I lived and breathed musicals.
Every day I sang, I danced/pranced around my room, I waved an umbrella over my head like a musket with a French flag wrapped around my waist. It was my life, my passion, my love.
But time moved on. For the past 20 years (oh my god now I feel old) I haven’t really sung that much about life. I could give some clichéd remark about how I’ve been busy living it, but the truth is I often feel like I’ve moved away from myself. In those rare moments when something has reminded me of my old passion – a trip to the theatre, Les Mis in concert – I have felt like myself again. Happy, passionate, in a world filled with new possibilities.
This weekend, during a long trip in the car, my son introduced me to Hamilton. He wanted to listen to it because they rap. I said yes because he said the word ‘musical’.
It was like opening a door to a beautiful past. All I want to do now is sing, write … create. Be passionate again.
This weekend someone asked me what I really wanted to do. With my life. I’m a bit old to be asked what I want to do when I grow up, but I always feel like it’s implied. The answer is still the same: I want to be a writer. Why didn’t I say that? Because the response is always the same: You can’t live off that. Pick something else.
No. I won’t.
I want to be a writer. And listening to Hamilton in the car this weekend brought me right back to myself. To the real me. The one who writes, who dreams, who has passion for what she does. Maybe I sound like I’m 14 again but that’s how I feel tonight.
I’ve even been listening to Les Mis again.
The challenge for me is to find the way to keep that feeling alive when I go back to work tomorrow. Even if it is for a French company!