The 12 Days of Love Letter Writing

I think back to when I first met Hannah Brencher and discovered The World Needs More Love Letters, and sometimes I think that was the beginning of my writing career. That was the beginning of my foray into blogging. If my life was a romantic comedy movie starring Meg Ryan, that was my moment when I had the courage to let the words that swirled around in my heart and head onto the page and the screen.

The World Needs More Love Letters is an international organization that spreads love across the globe through good ol' fashioned snail mail. In a time when we have become glued to our screens and are more comfortable texting than talking, The World Needs More Love Letters infuses humanity and heart back into the lives of countless people. 

It's about love - but not mushy, gushy, sappy love. It's about the type of love that comes when you show up for people you know, and those you've yet to me.

With all that's wrong with the internet, The World Needs More Love Letters is everything that's right. 

I love The World Needs More Love Letters (MLL).

And, I also happen to be a Christmas elf. I love Christmastime - the giving, the loving, the showing up for those who need it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love white twinkle lights and hot chocolate and the smell of pine trees, too. But when we show up for one another, that's the greatest gift of all.

And so, each and every year I join The World More Love Letters in their largest campaign - The 12 Days of Love Letter Writing.

You too can join this campaign and write to one of the requests, to a couple of them, or, if you're feeling particularly inspired - all of them! (Just make sure everything is postmarked by December 20th, 2017. More info about the campaign can be found here.)

This year, I'm writing a letter to the students of The REAL School.

The behavioral specialist at The REAL School made the follow Love Letters Request for the students:

“REAL school serves middle school students who require structured therapeutic school-based supports and are at-risk in the areas of academic achievement as well as emotional and behavioral development. Most are dealing with challenges at home and in the community–trauma, abuse, violence–as well as mental health disorders. They and their families oftentimes lack access to effective resources and lack exposure to people outside of their communities, city, and the world around them. Research shows that these types of disconnections lead to ongoing struggles: incarceration, homelessness, a lower lifetime earning potential, chronic difficulty getting and keeping a job, living in extreme poverty, lack of health insurance, substance abuse, and chronic depression.

Our students (we currently have six boys in the program, ages 12-14) are resilient, vibrant, creative, outspoken, musical, funny, caring, curious, resourceful, athletic, and often, overlooked. They love to rap, dance, play sports, do arts and crafts, and learn about others. They deserve to feel appreciated and supported. They deserve unconditional positive regard. And, most of all, they deserve to feel connected with others.

I'd love to share letters of encouragement and motivation, of overcoming tough times, and of different life experiences (cultures, cities, people) with our students as well as our amazing REAL School staff members.”

Join me in writing to The REAL Students, won't you? Please be sure to address your letters as "Dear Students", and Be sure to mail your letters by December 20th to the following address:

Students of REAL School

℅ Elizabeth L.

12 S. Stafford Avenue Apt. A,

Richmond, VA 23220

USA

Not sure what to write? Here's my letter:

Dear Gentlemen, 

I'm so proud of you. 

Yes, you.

I know you're probably asking yourself who is this crazy lady writing to us telling us that she's proud? This can't possibly be real.

But, my sweet boys, it is!

I am an artist and a teacher, and I am proud of you. For showing up to school and giving it your all. For diving headfirst into extracurricular activities and academics. For caring about others.

Did you know that your teacher describes you all as resilient, vibrant, creative, outspoken, musical, funny, caring, curious, resourceful, and athletic?

That's AMAZING.

I hope you hear her words. 

And, I hope you hear mine.

I hope you hear me when I say that the world needs more young men like you all. I hope you hear me when I say that the circumstances of your past do not have to dictate your future. You are more than your parents, and your home, and your clothes, and how much money you have.

You are a glorious, complex, wonderful human. 

You are resilient, vibrant, creative, outspoken, musical, funny, caring, curious, resourceful, and athletic - and you were not born to stay small.

I hope you know that you are loved. I hope you know that you are valued. I hope you know that you inspire teachers and staff each and every day that you show up to school.

And I hope you keep showing up. 

Because the world needs you.

It always has, and it always will.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!

xo,

Megan 

Letters to Heaven

It's been a whole year.

And, truthfully, words still fail me. 

But still I write. 

Cause sometimes, the words give way to something bigger. 

See, sometimes, it doesn't seem real. 

Sometimes, I forget. 

Not you, of course. I mean, I don't think there's a soul that's met you that could possibly forget you. But sometimes I forget that I just can't call you up, or shoot you a text. Sometimes I forget that when I think I see you, it's just my eyes playing tricks on me. 

And it comes in waves sometimes - the forgetting and remembering, that is. 

And it stings with certain moments. Things you should be there for, in person. Like...I'm getting married! I so wish you could be there, dancing with us. Laughing with us. Celebrating with us. 

And I know you'll be smiling down from up above. I know that if we decide to have it in a vineyard, the sunshine that will stream down will be a wedding gift from you. I know that. 

...it still doesn't change the fact that it sucks to not have you there. There's no poetry in that. There's no words that can make that seem pretty. There's nothing eloquent or elegant about death. 

It just sucks.

Lately I've been thinking about legacy. What we leave behind. Who we leave behind. What are the imprints we make upon people, and how do they carry us with them once we're not there anymore?

I think it's a million little things and big things. 

See, I talk about you all the time. I didn't realize how much I do, until I sat down to write this. I have a group of students who are doing Shrek this year, and I told them about you. Schuyler and I were thinking about getting married by the beach, and I thought of you. Every time I pass certain theatre, I think of you. 

We think about you always.

We talk about you always.

And sometimes it's sad, and sometimes it's happy, and sometimes we smile, and sometimes we cry, but it's. always a good thing to hear your name in conversation.

It was always good to hear your name.

And it still is.

There's a trick with legacies, with keeping memories alive and yet, knowing how not to let the feeling of loss swallow your whole, and I think it's with words.

I think it's in stories. It's in the stories that make us laugh, and the ones that make us cry, and the ones that make us smile real big and say I'm so happy that happened. And even know the hole of loss still hurts, that memory is a gift. 

Sometimes it's about saying the words out loud.

And sometimes, it's just writing a letter to heaven.

We miss you.

The Human Knot

There is this game/warm up that many a theatre teacher will use in classes called the human knot.

The class will stand in a circle, shoulder to shoulder. If the class is too big, you need to break them up into two different groups. Then the students will grab hands with someone who is across from them in the circle, making sure not to grab hands with the person standing next to them.

As everyone grabs hands, arms will get tangled, making the human knot.

Once everyone is knotted, the goal is to undo the knot.

I recently played this game with a group of sixth graders as part of a workshop I teach, called Project Hero.

Project Hero is a brilliant empathy building workshop developed by Kate Mueth. Through theatrical techniques and activities, we encourage students to use their empathy building muscles, and try to put the kibosh on bullying.

Although I'm a teaching artist for this program, Project Hero teaches me, too. It teaches me how to be a better artist, a better teacher, a better director, and a better human. It reminds me that we cannot lead if we have no empathy. And that empathy is something we all should continue to cultivate and foster and encourage.

But let's get back to this most recent workshop, and the human knot game. 

One group was able to undo the knot.

One group was not.

Afterwards, when we were discussing the activity, the feedback was wonderful. The students were insightful, thoughtful, and wise beyond their years.

And when I asked them why they thought I used this game as part of my lesson, one student blew me away.

He said, so we understand the power of one voice.

I think that's a teaching moment that will forever be burned in my brain.

As adults it seems so easy for us to focus on the negative - we give platforms and words to our grievances rather than what we're grateful for, and I don't know about you, but it's exhausting.

And I'm over it. 

We all have a voice. Fame withstanding, you have a voice. Whether you have a million followers on social media, or 70. Whether you lead hundreds of people in a Fortune 500 company, or a class of thirty.

You have a voice, and what you say matters. How you say it matters. How you choose to use it matters.

What you tweet matters.

It all matters.

Lately it seems like it's cool to make hate a hobby. And I just can't help but think - what would happen if we made a hobby out of love? Out of understanding? Out of basic human decency?

The world is not lacking negativity. This we all know. 

So, you can add to the negative mess - or you can use your voice to untie the knots, and reveal the blanket of humanity that covers us all. 

It's your choice. 

It's always your choice. 

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. Rule borrowed from Hannah Brencher: Keep your spaces clean. Chaos squashes your creativity. To keep your brain calm, keep your room clean.

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.

29. Rule borrowed from Joel L. Daniels - Less concerned about the work you do, more concerned with the impression you, and the work you do, makes and leaves on the people around you.

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.