Today

It’s been a while since I’ve written a poem that wasn’t a song.

I haven’t really been processing my feelings about the global pandemic and its repercussions on our daily lives, aside from its impact on Yappie the Musical.

I think I was hiding behind the musical, convincing myself that I was ok, too.

So here’s my attempt at making sense of the tangled thoughts and emotions from the past few weeks.

Today
at the store
I walked between shelves
hands in pockets
practicing decisiveness. 
Perusing, holding weight
between my fingers
was yesterday. 

Today
I float through space
wave to you from two aisles down
fist bump the air. 
We smile. 
Because it's funny. 
This new normal. 

Today
only air will brush past my arm. 
I won't feel the heat on your skin
sense your heart beat in a hug. 

Today 
the distance between us is thick
choking on cries for contact
to know we're alive. 

Creativity in the time of crisis: An update on Yappie The Musical

Rehearsals for Yappie the Musical were supposed to start last week. Then we heard from Johns Hopkins University & Peabody that all performances and events were canceled and that the college and conservatory would be transitioning to online classes until April 12 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I was trying to finish up the script when we scheduled a late night FaceTime meeting to discuss our options. It took some time to wrap my head around what limiting access to JHU/Peabody might mean for our musical. Knowing that so much was out of our hands, we decided to move forward with the table read but to move it to Sunday. A few days later, we decided to suspend rehearsals until further notice.

I’m not sad or disappointed with where we are with Yappie the Musical. To be sad or mad would be short-sighted on my part. My work will still exist regardless of what happens. If we can’t share this musical with you in May, we are determined to find a way to share it with the world somehow, some time.

That’s not to say it hasn’t been a challenging/difficult/interesting past few days. I promised to send the draft of the script to the cast. I am trying to maintain some kind of momentum. Let me confess now that I haven’t had the head space to finalize the script.

I think about my parents who are in their 60s and 70s, my sister who is alone in another state, my neighbors who have chosen not to practice social distancing, headlines and graphs and data on COVID-19, and my family in the Philippines who are in a lockdown right now. I think about my own privilege: ability to work from home, internet access, a comforting home. I think about how it feels to not be able to breathe when my asthma hits because of cold air, stress, or exercise, and wonder if that’s how it would be without a ventilator. I’ve suppressed these thoughts for days now, choosing instead to focus on finishing the script. But to no avail. So I’m releasing these thoughts, letting them mix with the rest of our anxieties as we reconfigure our lives not just for the temporary, but for the long-run.

I am also trying not to kick myself for not being “productive” during this time. Do I have a whole host of projects/tasks I’ve wanted to work on for a while? Yes, of course I do—filing my taxes being one of them (if I get “nothing done” let my taxes be something I do get done). I am reminding myself that it’s ok to take a few days to process, that there is no requirement to pivot as quickly as others do, and that I will finish this script.

Hopefully we’ll be able to share Yappie the Musical with you in some way this spring. Thank you so much for supporting us thus far. Be well and see you soon.

Another revolution around the sun

Last week I celebrated another revolution around the sun.

I wouldn’t say I feel a year older. Quite the opposite, really. I don’t know what it is, but a few of my friends and I feel 10 years younger than our actual age. We feel healthier; we feel more at peace with who we are and our past; we feel like we will take over the world this time but do it with more sleep and less drama.

We have a clearer vision of what we want, the flexibility to get there, and the wisdom to truly enjoy the process. It feels like my 26-year-old self is back but more self-assured, more forgiving, less stressed, and more fun.

Around this time last year I was at an “intermission of sorts,” figuring out where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do, who I was, and who I wanted to become. Did I answer those questions? Most and more. I knew I wanted to be in grad school (and I am), but I never imagined I’d be writing an original musical. I had only set my sights on writing and performing my poetry on stage again. It really is quite a wonder how the universe works sometimes.

Where will the next revolution around the sun take me?

I’ve got some ideas.