WORD.
32 Life Rules
Good God.
I'm 32.
I still remember when I turned 18.
And, at the risk of sounding like a Grandma, where does the time go?
I'm not really sure. Which, I guess is why it's why I write it all down.
My dear friend Hannah decided to write a rulebook this year on her 29th birthday. And so, in typical Hannah fashion, she has inspired me to do it myself.
So here we go: 32 rules of life.
1. Carve out ten minutes of your day to drink a cup of coffee (or tea, if that's your thing), in the morning. In silence.
2. Learn how to love the silence. Silence isn't scary. With silence comes clarity of thought. With clarity of thought comes growth.
3. Never stop growing. Never stop learning. The moment you decide you know everything is the moment when you'll start to lose any intelligent thought you once had. Everyone can teach you something, even if it's what not to do.
4. Exercise. Even when you don't want to. You'll thank yourself later.
5. Find things to be grateful for each and every day. Gratitude is key - grateful for the things we have. Grateful for how far we've come. Grateful so we know how far there is to go.
6. Go places. See new cities, meet new people, try different food.
7. Never pass on Chinese food. Or Thai food. Or tapas. Or tacos. Variety is the spice of life.
8. Life will go as planned. And then it will go haywire. Learn how to remain calm amidst the ebb and flow, and learn who keeps you calm, too.
9. Find your focus in the chaos.
10. Focus on people more than things. You can always work overtime. You can't get back lost moments with those you love the most.
11. Love. Love deeply, love freely, love openly, love fiercely. Then be the love that you preach, teach, and seek.
12. Say I love you. Let the words pass your lips and live in the air. Let them imprint on the heart and soul of another. Love is not meant to be contained.
13. Prayer is good for the soul. I hope you pray for your people, and I hope you pray for those you have yet to meet.
14. See the story behind the human.
15. Read. Read everything, but don't forget about books. Let yourself get lost in the pages of another world and another life.
16. Lose yourself in nature every once and a while. Feel the breeze. Drink in the sunshine. See the color that surrounds you. Take long walks in the woods. On the beach. Throughout your neighborhood.
17. Be kind to your neighbors.
18. Kindness is not weakness. Remember that.
19. Know your weaknesses. But know that your weaknesses do not make you less of a person. They make you human. And we're all flawed.
20. Find make-up that makes you feel flawless. (If make up is your thing, that is.) Currently I'm loving FENTY by Rihanna. But you pick whatever makes you feel beautiful.
21. You are beautiful. Remember that. Tell yourself that in the mirror when you wake up in the morning. Remind yourself of that as often as you need to.
22. Pay attention to what you need for mind, body, heart, and soul. Self care is important - ain't no shame in taking care of you.
23. Take your vitamins.
24. Call people on the phone when you're thinking of them. A "like" on a screen, or a text message can never replace the love found in the cadence of a voice on the phone.
25. For my curly haired gals - embrace the curl. I can't even begin to count the amount of minutes I've wasted fighting with a straightening iron and a blow dryer. Now I let the curls go! (And, thanks to my pal Lara Casey, I'm obsessed with DevaCurl.) Now, if I have the opportunity for someone to do my hair for me, any hairstyle is fair game.
26. Never underestimate the power of a good hair dresser. Or a blow out.
27. There are opportunities in life that you'll blow. You'll say the wrong thing. You. won't be what he/she/they wants. That's ok. Recognize the mistakes for what they were, and then let them go.
28. Let the little things go. Let yourself feel pain. Let yourself feel joy. Let yourself embrace the moment and season in which you find yourself, and find the balance in knowing when to move forward.
30. Believe in your art. Trust in your gut.
31. There will be a love that will find you that makes you a better human. That sees your light and your dark and loves you anyway. That fills your days with warmth and laughter. It's ok to wait for that kind of love. You deserve that kind of love.
32. There is always a reason, a way, a someone, and a something to celebrate. Remember the ones you've lost, and let their love fuel you forward.
Island to Island
I opened the door to the sauna, and was hit with a wall of heat.
I know it's a sauna. But it was HOT. It was so hot my nail beds hurt.
And, true to form, I said so. Aloud.
There was one woman who was already sitting on the benches, and she laughed.
I know girl, it's hot!
We shared a laugh.
She asked me if I had worked out yet.
I said yes, the sauna was the end to my workout.
She said she was trying to warm up before, she had been on a retreat and her whole body was hurting. Then she stood up and extended her hand.
She told me her name. I told her mine. And then she sat back down and told me her story.
She had just come from a four day mission trip to Jamaica.
I asked her what the mission was for, and she told me how she was a pharmacist, and that she was there to educate the community about the different medications that they were taking.
She said that we don't realize that people need to be educated on what they're putting into their bodies. Because we know. We know, but so many people don't. It's an easy thing to take for granted.
I asked her what made her do it? And she said she had always wanted to, there was just never the time. But she made the time this year, and now she's going to do it again.
It was draining she said.
Physically? I asked.
Yeah. But, emotionally, too, she said.
And then she started crying. And then she started apologizing for crying, and I naturally told her not to be silly. Let the tears out.
Seeing people hurting so much, and then coming back here...it was a lot, she said.
I said I couldn't even imagine. I reminded her how beautiful it was gone. How even though I was a complete stranger, her actions inspired me.
She smiled.
Thank you, Megan.
And then before we both melted into puddles, we left.
I don't know if I'll ever see that woman again. But her story, it'll stick with me - and it wasn't so much the trip to Jamaica. Sure, the mission trip to Jamaica was fascinating and inspiring, but our moment in this sauna gave me hope for all of us. For there we were, two strangers, sharing tears and bits of life. There we were, two strangers, listening with open ears and open hearts.
She and I couldn't have been more different, but in that moment, we were the same. Two people, sharing a story. Two people having a laugh. Two people, letting tears fall without reservation.
Magnificent things can happen when people listen to one another.
It was just a moment.
A blip in the span of a lifetime.
But how many blips and brief moments in a lifetime turn into something bigger?
How many words exchanged with strangers spark something else? How many times do we miss the opportunity to learn from those we surround ourselves with? How often do hold words of love and encouragement in our mouths, not letting them live in the open?
Too often we forget that at the core of humanity is the need to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved.
The world can feel overwhelming with pain and strife - but you can always help turn the tides towards love with a simple conversation..even if it's with a stranger in a sauna.
The Silence of Coffee
I’ve never been comfortable with silence.
Quite honestly, it freaks me out.
I come from a loud Italian family that doesn’t know the meaning of inside voices. At family functions we have to yell over people to be heard. Chatter and noises and talking have been the very soundtrack of my life.
I find comfort in the noise.
I remember being on vacation when I was younger - my parents and my brother and I had gone to North Carolina, and we were going to see a movie.
We were the only people in the movie theatre.
Did I mention I’m a New Yorker, too?
So not only was it quiet - it empty.
I kept thinking some mass murderer was going to round the corner at any second. Ridiculous, I know, but empty spaced seemed unnatural, as did the quiet.
I was used to people.
I was used to chatter.
I was used to chaos.
. . .
This summer I started having my coffee in silence, and outside.
I’d stare at the green trees and watch the birds and look at the sky - and I thought, gee, I’m turning into an 85 year old woman.
Well, no, not really.
But there was something about sipping coffee and sitting in silence that made for a good start to my day - and that’s something I thought I’d never say.
Silence allows me to think more clearly. It forces me to dig a little deeper, and prioritize what’s going on in my brain.
Don’t get me wrong - I still love heated conversations. I’m still loud. I still thrive on the hustle and bustle of people and the city - after all, I am in the business of storytelling. And with that. business comes a lot of chatter, a lot of chaos, and a lot of conversations.
But, I’ve grown to like the quiet. I’ve started to appreciate nature. I have begun to look forward to those moments and mornings of sitting in silence.
In a world and a profession where tweets and posts and likes permeate our every move, it’s nice to just sit alone with my thoughts, and my cup of coffee, and savor every sip.
If you listen, the silence will give way to your dreams. The silence will tell you all you need to know about your fears.
If you pay attention, the silence will tell you so much of what you really need to know.
I remember.
Every year I search for the right words. Every year I fall short.
I took this picture two years ago -- the reflection of The Freedom Tower on the other buildings took my breath away. It still does. So much power in that light. So much power in that reflection. Sixteen years ago and so much of that day is reflected in the here and now.
Freedom Tower Reflections
Sixteen years ago doesn't make the pain any less.
Sixteen years ago, and the memories have not faded. They're still vibrant. They're still there - cause it still feels like yesterday.
I remember what I wore. A red shirt and blue jean jacket and khaki pants so light they looked like they were white.
I remember being in a history class - ironic, isn't it? Learning history and living history all tangled at once.
I remember the sound on the speakers. Planes, they said. Something's wrong, they said. We're not sure what yet, they said. Stay calm, they said. Don't panic, they said.
I remember the panic. People kept their panic inside. It was quiet at first, and then it was bursts of terror bubbling over - spilling into conversations, spilling out of mouths, spilling over eyelids as the tears never stopped.
I remember funerals and funerals and more tears and more funerals.
I remember the goodness of others. The loved we shared. We gave love to one another constantly. Freely. Without reservation or judgement. We hoped love would fill the broken pieces of shattered hearts. I still hope and believe in that good. In that love. I don't know how not to.
They say #neverforget - and I know I never will. Quite frankly I can't forget that day - it's the before I have trouble with sometimes. Before the world was knocked off its axis. Before terror became an everyday part of speech - that's tough to remember.
So take a quiet moment today, and remember.
Remember the before.
And then remember the fallen.
Remember the heroes.
Say their names, and honor their memories, their bravery, their goodness and their love with your actions - cause we are in infinite need of goodness and love.
Dear Teacher Friends,
Dear Teacher Friends,
The school year is upon us.
New faces to see everyday, new stories to learn, new lives to guide.
As your journey onward, I hope you remember.
I hope you remember that the students who come into your classroom will need you.
They'll need you to help guide them on their road to academic success. They'll need you to help them navigate the ups and downs of the school social climate. They'll need you to stand for their best interests - no matter what.
They'll need you.
I hope you find yourself in a schools situation where the administration values you. (And I'm talking about the school administration, here.)
I hope you find yourself with a principal who trusts you to do your job, one who has your back.
I hope you find yourself appreciated by the parents whose children you guide.
I hope you love going to work each and every day - and realize that while you might have an under appreciated job, it's by far one of the most important ones in the world right now.
I hope you find yourself in such a school climate. But if you don't, I hope you know that I see you. I hear you. I know.
I know it's not about summers off.
I know the work doesn't stop when you leave the school.
I know you take the papers home to grade, along with the stories of your students.
I know you worry about them as if they were your own children.
I know that you always strive to bring the best out in them, and ask them to rise to the challenges your set forth for them, not because you're a tyrant, not because you're mean, but because you want them to be better.
It is your job to make them better - and that means letting them know when they have to improve. It means letting them know what's wrong or right, true or false.
I know that you went into this profession because you care. Because you wanted to make a difference. Because you wanted to be a leader and an inspiration and someone who mattered.
And you need to know that you matter to the kids who come into your class. Some of them may soak in your knowledge, and some may resist.
But know that if just one kid goes home at the end of the day, smiling because of something you said, energized because of something you taught - well, that's a success.
Remind yourself that you cannot do it all. Just take it one lesson plan at a time. It's in your bones to be able to change and roll with whatever the day is thrown at you - that's your superpower. That's your magic. Channel it.
Remind yourself that you do not teach for the politicians, the corporations, or even the parents. You teach for the kids. You are there to guide them, to help them, to get them to think on their own - not regurgitate what they hear from others.
And that, my friends is a beautiful thing.
I hope you all have a wonderful school year. If I could buy you all bouquets of sharpened pencils I would. If I could visit your classrooms I would. If I could share lunch duties and hall duties and grading papers – I would.
I can't.
But I'll listen. And I'll meet you for coffee. And I'll be here, cheering you on.
Always.
Love,
Megan
Names.
I was scrolling twitter one day when one of my favorite writers (Sarah Kay), had started a thread about minor super powers, "small/specific skills/tasks you could be depended on to deliver".
I chimed in, naturally.
I listed mine as the following being able to sleep on a plane, immediately remembering the names of people I'm introduced to, and driving in New York City.
And while I don't discount the awesomeness of driving in New York City or being able to sleep way up in the sky - it's the remembering if names that I'm finding to be most helpful.
Names.
What's in a name?
That seems to be a question that we carry through the ages. Naming of kids. Naming of rights. Naming of wrongs. Whose name do you carry? Whose name do you not? Names of people. Names of places. Names of things.
Sometimes I think we forget that names stand for something - for we live in an age where hashtags have become names of the fallen and cities of the hurting.
Names start movements.
Names steer the roads of politics.
Names.
Names.
Names.
And yet - how often do we forget to ask the name of the people we meet? How many times do you get a coffee and not address your barista by name? When you go get dinner do you ask the name of the waiter/waitress? Do you make an effort to remember it?
So many things are wrapped in a name - the blank slate of a story yet to be written, the hopes and dreams of a parents promise. Perhaps even the sins of our fathers and mothers,
There's a restaurant I go to after almost every sound check when I'm doing a show at Feinstein's/54 Below.
It's magical.
And no, I'm not telling you, because when we go, we usually don't have to wait for a table, and I'd like to keep it that way.
But anyway, after a week of multiple rehearsals, we found ourselves always going back to this culinary treasure. And we happened to have the same waitress. And I realized on like, day three that I didn't know her name.
Chantal, she said.
Hi Chantal, I'm Megan.
And she smiled, and asked all of us our names. And we had a laugh for a brief moment and it was a lovely New York moment that they write into your most favorite sitcoms.
Chantal was happy cause we asked her what her name was - the joy in her face was obvious. We saw her. As a human. As a person. As someone with a name.
I think of that day often now, just as I think of the thread of minor superpowers that Sarah started.
Maybe it's silly, but I think the world needs more people who think of things like remembering names and make lists of actual superpowers that you have within you.
The world doesn't need people to fly, but we do need people who pour love into people and see the humanity behind the stories.
It rained in New York today, and I couldn't help but think of all those people hurting in Texas.
And each second I watch the news, my heart breaks even more.
And I want to hold my arms open wide and carry the weight of the world.
And I want to build a house that can shelter everyone, with a table that can seat us all.
I am no architect,
...but I am a writer.
So, I'll build with words, and remember names, and use my minor superpowers to pour love back into this world, and this crazy time in which we all live.
Soar, My Students, Soar
I once taught a group of students who made me a better human.
They made me see the best in myself even when I couldn't see it myself. They made me have hope for the future when the world seemed like it was burning to the ground. They keep that hope alive for me. I hope they always will.
If my future children are like each and every one of them, I'd be a very happy lady.
They're all heading off to college now, and while time does not allow me to see many of them before they leave, I still have to. leave them with words of wisdom before they go.
Do not party every night. It will be a real temptation to do so, but it will be catastrophic to your brain and body to do so. Limit yourself to Thursday through Sunday, if you must.
Audition for everything. Even when you think you cannot do it. Even when you are scared to do it. DO IT. And then pretend I'm sitting at that table. Remember what I saw in you. Remember what I still see. Remember that they will see it too, if you let them.
Learn from everyone. Everyone will teach you something, even if it's what not to do.
Go to sports games. It's important to leave the theatre every once and a while - the greatest stories are often found in the unexpected. The characters you will have to step into will not only be artistic teenagers, so learn how to step into the shoes of another.
Protect your heart. It's easy to get lost in the culture of a hookup. It might be fun in the moment. It feels terrible in the morning.
Never take less than 16 credits. Never take more than your brain can handle. It is not a race.
Remember if you feel homesick that there are people who will always want to hear from you. Whether it's me, or your parents, or someone else. Call them. The warmth of home cannot come through a text message. Pick. Up. The. Phone. And. Call. Them.
Listen to everyone's stories before you judge. You will not know where another is coming from unless you take the time to learn and listen.
Write everything down, even the bad.
Don't eat the crap in the cafeteria. Let vegetables become your friends.
Remember you work really hard to be there. And you deserve it.
Remember that I'm so proud of you.
Now go - soar. Land. Thrive. And then soar some more.
Nonna and The Nazi
Sometimes I fear that once a hashtag stops trending, it leaves our hearts and minds. Lately I feel compelled to make sure that doesn't happen; as an artist, and as a teacher, and as human.
Throughout my childhood, I always heard the story of Nonna and the nazis.
My grandmother grew up in the hills of Italy during World War II. Save the images of Under the Tuscan Sun for another day, for her earlier years were far from glamourous.
There was no running water.
There was no indoor plumbing.
They worried about food, constantly.
They worried for their lives, for the Nazis ransacked and soiled everything they touched, and everyone they loved.
Growing up I always remember the story of Gina and her neighbor. Gina was my grandmothers donkey. Perhaps you could say that Gina was even her first friend.
One day, the Nazis eventually came to her home.
They took what they wanted.
And then, they shot and took her donkey.
She yelled at them, and they shot at her.
76 years ago, she's still here.
And one week ago, the Nazi flag was paraded around Charlottesville like it was no big deal. As if it stood for anything other than hate and terror and the death of 11 million people, and the attempt to wipe Jewish people from this earth.
AS IF.
I cannot shake Charlottesville.
And honestly, I don't know how anyone can shake that.
My mom showed my Nonna the footage of Charlottesville, and it shook my grandmother to the core.
Please let me die before they ever come back. Please.
Just this week she told me of how her neighbor was killed in front of her face. Shot dead. Just like that.
I don't know why she never shared that until now. I can only think that it's hard to talk about the ghosts. Perhaps some pain never really fades, perhaps you just get used to living with the hurt.
I wonder how many ghosts stick with her from that time. I can't imagine what she went through, and I hope I never have to.
But I know that hope will not always be enough. Words are beautiful, words have meaning, but words of love and justice met with action - that's what matters. That's what counts. That's what prevents the history books from flipping the pages backwards and reliving the darkest times all over again.
So stand up and show up and speak up when you see hatred and bigotry.
Make sure love is a louder voice on your screens.
Take the time to educate people about what they do not understand, for hatred and prejudice is brewed in a pool of fear and ignorance.
The time in which we live allows all of us to have a platform. Think about how you will use yours. Love is always a choice. Hate is always a choice. The life that stretches before you is made up of a billion and one choices - some big, some small - all with meaning. All there for you to take.
You just have to choose.
Living In My Head
I won't be living in my head, I won't be living in my head.
There are places I haven't gone, and there are books I haven't read.
I'll lay beside you in this bed.
It's been a while since a song has inspired my own words. But that's what the music of Mackenzie Shivers does - it reignites a flame you did not realize was dim.
How often do we keep our dreams close to the pillow in which we lay our head, never letting them live out before us?
How often do we close our mouths around the words we wish to say - whether it is love or lust or hate or happiness or softness or sadness - instead of letting them out to hang in the air and the space between us?
How ofte do we live in the moments of yesterday or the promise of tomorrow - forgetting to live in the life that we find ourselves in?
How often do we live in the fear of what if - rather than living in the reality of what is?
It's easy to hide behind screens and be comfortable with the glow of the lives of others rather than seeking the light that is within you.
It's easy to live in our own little bubbles. To pretend that we know it all. To say that we don't need anyone. To think that we can do this life alone. To save the dreams and hopes for a brighter tomorrow for the sparkly moments of dreamland - for fear of disrupting the known.
Don't.
Dreams do not come to fruition through the glow your screen and the click of a keyboard. Dreams are not born from stoking the fire of fear and letting the unpredictability of the unknown overshadow what makes your heart happy.
Dreams come from dancing with the unknown. They come from pushing yourself out of your comfort zones, and surrounding yourself with people who challenge your mind and nourish your soul.
You were never meant to be small.
You were never meant to live inside your head.
There are too many people you've yet to meet - too many things you have yet to discover, too many things you have yet to learn.
So go. Soar. Thrive. Land. And then soar some more if you have to.
Heaven Does Exist
Faith is a funny thing.
It's a hard thing.
Lately it seems like an impossible thing to have - especially when the world swirls with such hatred - how can we have faith? Faith in family. Faith in friends. Faith in country. Faith in people. Faith that good will always trump evil.
Faith that there's something bigger than us.
It's a funny thing.
You would've been 43 today.
And there's not a day that you're not on my mind. Not a day that I don't think that it doesn't seem real or fair. Not a day goes by when it doesn't all seem like a huge nightmare.
But, this is our new normal now.
This is the new hand we've been dealt.
And still, it doesn't seem fair. But it's renewed a sense of faith.
For even in death, you've taught me about life.
You've taught me heaven does exist.
I know it now, when your dog comes to sit on me, (a person who's afraid of dogs), and yet I'm struck with an overwhelming calm.
I know it now, when it's been blah weather all week, and today there's not a cloud in the sky. The sun is shining bright, and the water is waiting with open arms for your people to go fish. I know it sounds nuts, but I know that's you, smiling up from above. Giving everyone the gift of this memory of today, celebrating you.
And I know we'll always celebrate you, Rick. And I know you'll always be here.
Cause the things you've left behind are too precious to ever die - the love you had, and give continues to live on in the twinkles of our eyes and the warmths of our hugs. The love you had and continue to give will always be found within the folds of our smiles.
We miss you, brother.
Happy Birthday!