This Tuesday, and I know this sounds unbelievable, but I actually got a text from someone asking if I wanted to meet up for drinks that night, hoping I was “dealing with all this coronavirus hype.”
I waited a day to respond.
I told him that unfortunately, I didn’t think it was all hype since someone I really loved had just died from it.
It’s been more than a decade since I made most of my living teaching yoga privately.
Terrence McNally was one of my very first clients.
A friend of his had set the meeting up without telling me Terrence’s last name.
I showed up at his apartment on a Sunday afternoon, immediately finding this 70-something man warm, witty, and unbelievably charming.
I only gradually noticed that he seemed to have decorated his shelves with tons of photos of himself with a vast assortment of theater celebrities.
Then I spotted the four Tony awards and it became clear who I was dealing with.
I taught Terrence three times a week for the better part of five years.
You get to know someone really well when you show up at their door at 7 am that often, spending 90 minutes stretching them out and sharing stories.
Soon, our friendship went beyond the mat.
I saw 12 different productions of Terrence’s during the time we worked together.
I met him during intermissions of his shows in the lobbies of various Broadway theaters, Lincoln Center, and the New York City Opera.
I was also invited to several backers’ auditions and staged readings for productions that did and didn’t happen.
And, once in San Francisco, I saw a premiere of his where I was running disastrously late and he held the curtain 12 minutes for me.
I went to his wedding reception, too.
There was a moment towards the end of that night where I was chilling with him, Edward Albee, and Wendy Wasserstein in his bedroom and I realized I was the only person there without a Tony or a Pulitzer.
Terrence also celebrated my early successes.
He came to my book signings and insisted on buying copies.
At the first workshop for my co-created play that’s now toured 5 continents, he gave generous notes on a comment card I still have.
Every nice thing people say about him is true.
I have a lot more to share about what Terrence taught me (mostly by example) but right now I want to focus on one thing.
It’s in the lines from his masterwork Frankie & Johnny in the Claire de Lune:
We gotta connect.
We just have to or we just die.
Unlike my friend who thinks we can still meet for drinks, I have another option for us.
My original intention last week was to offer two Zoom classes online for fun.
Now, for purely selfish reasons, I find myself needing to do them daily in order to connect with you.
(Fear not: with Zoom, you can turn your video off and be completely invisible; I understand and often share that impulse and if our roles were reversed, I would probably do the same.)
Somehow though, even if I can’t see you, I still know you’re there…and I feel connected…and that’s what we all need more than anything.
Let’s connect HERE.
Namaste for Now,
P.S. In this particularly crazy time, I tried to set this up so it’s as affordable as possible.
30 classes a month + recordings are HERE.
And it’s still just a $1 donation for Sunday’s single class HERE.
(And if you want to celebrate Terrance’s amazing life further, just watch Every Act of Life HERE for free on PBS or Amazon Prime. You’ll be really glad you did.)
