My husband and I have always led a charmed sort of life. (Please proceed to knock on whatever wood you have available and tututu away the evil spirits if you happen to be Jewish or Fiddler on the Roof obsessed.) But it’s true. That’s not to say that bad things don’t happen. They do. Or that we don’t work really hard to succeed. We do. But we have always seemed to live in a fairy land of our own making. Call it being flighty. Call it being unrealistic, or worse, an artist. But we live in a magical world where everything is possible.
I am a natural born frolicker. I don’t walk, I frolic. I hope you find that endearing. If you see me walking, it’s either because I’m upset, sick, haven’t had coffee yet, or am trying to imitate a grown up. Walking is as close as I get to looking mature and responsible. Apparently I do a really great mature and responsible walk since people keep trusting me with things. Like jobs and writing books. Or even holding my baby nephew.
I don’t know why I’ve always wondered if there are fairies around the next corner. Maybe I read too many books as a child to see the world in a more practical way. I still find a huge amount of wonder in green forests and Disney fireworks. But somehow my prancing through life has turned out well so far.
Next week we will be heading off to five months of living and working in Denali, Alaska. It seems impossible to pick up life and move it four time zones from home without even bringing our trusty car. It seems unrealistic to think that surviving in the middle of nowhere while performing in a show actually gives you a paycheck. Maybe I’m just lucky or blessed. Maybe I’m living in some weird version of the Matrix where I learned all the cheat codes. Or maybe I’m just not smart enough to understand what the meaning of impossible is.
Whatever the case may be, here’s to the next great adventure. May my boots stay dry and my internet stay strong. L’Chaim.