My Every Brilliant Thing Experience

Today I'm excited to share my thoughts and reflections

about my recent Every Brilliant Thing experience.

So it was a pretty far step out of my comfort zone, to fly to New York City for a whirlwind weekend, but when your daughter tells you that you must see this play, you point your feet forward and head to the airport, right? She'd seen it when Daniel Radcliffe was the star, but she told me that Mariska would be in the run from May 23-June 23, dates which beautifully coincided with Kaitlyn turning 33 and me turning 65.

Sharing this moment with my daughter fed my soul.

So many brilliant things hanging in the theater lobby.

The mirrors magnify their magnificence.

Mariska was every bit as magical as I imagined she'd be.

So the play is essentially a one-person monologue, though the ways in which they've made it interactive makes it powerful in a way that words can't adequately convey.

I was blessed to read brilliant thing #317 aloud.

We had great seats and I actually got a high five from her

when she left the stage and ran out into the audience.

Mariska is a bright light, and this role was perfectly suited for her.

We laughed. And we cried.

It's a chance to hear, no, experience a story in the first person from the broken heart of a young lady whose mom suffered from depression and attempted suicide three times, starting when the narrator was seven and mom didn't show up to pick her up from school.

The most effective part for me revolved around the list,

the list of brilliant things that her mom could live for

and enjoy instead of being distant and sad all of the time.

#1: Ice cream.

And throughout the uninterrupted 70 minutes in the theater seats, we hear about the list, a list that makes it all the way to a million. For me, it was reminiscent of Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. Interestingly enough, after I read that book, I started my list. I still have the journal, but my list never made it to a thousand. And, like the character in the play, whose list gets set aside and comes back periodically, serving as a focal point throughout her story, I'll probably pick it back up again one day, to meet that goal of naming my one thousand gifts.

Attending this play would definitely make the list.

My favorite interactive part of the play was the role of the school counselor. And though I wished I'd have been called from the audience to put the sock puppet on and banter with Mariska, I was mostly just grateful that our calling was portrayed as a lifeline for that child, even as she became an adult. And the messaging that it's okay to not be okay and critical to ask for help wasn't lost on me. In fact, it really resonated.

At the risk of giving anything more away, I'll stop, for now.