To step away from my desk, from writing, usually takes intention—an obligation, an appointment, an event.
But this weekend, instead of rushing back to my hotel room to work, I took a walk in the city that never sleeps
.
New York City is magic. The lights and screens can mesmerize for hours. The hustlers are everywhere, each chasing their own dream with a specific kind of determination. I melted into the crowd—a sea of people, heads tilted down, grimaces in place, walking like they’re late to a very important date.
And yet, as I shuffled forward, I walked with purpose. Certain of my own hustle. Certain that, like the waves of moving feet around me, I’m going somewhere important.
Even though these times feel tense and nerve-wracking, this too shall fade. The question is: Who will you be when revival comes?
I suggest you should be out walking. Walking to your own tune. Strolling between memory lane and adventure street.
We can’t let depression and deadlines keep us trapped on a treadmill to nowhere. We need to be out, moving, seeing the sights, meeting the moment head-on.
Downtown New York. Times Square—it’s still vibrant, still electric with people, places, and possibility. One of the places I wandered off to was Broadway. I scraped up pennies and last minute tickets to take in a Broadway Show. My daughter and I caught Gypsy.
Gypsy—the revival—is based on the memoirs of burlesque star Gypsy Rose Lee. Originally adapted by Arthur Laurents, with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, the show first hit Broadway in 1959.
Gypsy follows the struggles of a showbiz mother, Rose, and her two daughters: the sweet, spotlighted June and the awkward Louise. Rose devotes her life to making them stars in a vaudeville world that’s fading fast.
Rose is the ultimate dreamer—the pushiest of mothers, hell-bent on creating success in a season that’s disappearing as quickly as a stripper’s costume.
Gypsy—the cast, the costumes—and especially Audra McDonald—blew us away.
Six-time Tony Award winner, now the most-nominated performer in theater history, Audra stepped into the iconic shoes of Momma Rose—a role made legendary by Ethel Merman, Angela Lansbury, Patti LuPone. And she did it with poise, passion, and a voice that reached the heavens.
For the first time, Rose and her daughters are being played by Black women.
And it feels right.
After all, I grew up with a Mama Rose of my own—down South, with big dreams and high expectations. She had color, attitude, ambition, and love. All of that minus the Gypsy Rose stripping.
And in the legendary Majestic Theatre, we, my daughter and I, took in the chandeliers, the molding, the velvet drapery. The lights dimmed. The orchestra began. And we were swept away—into songs we half-remembered, dances we instinctively tapped to, that wonder that fills you when you let the noise fall away and become part of the show.
This was my daughter first show and she loved every moment.
And sadly, if one doesn’t count off-Broadway shows and church basement productions, this viewing was my first too. I loved it but it’s bittersweet to think of the moments I missed because I chose a different, probably work related path.
And yet I refuse to beat myself up on the Shoulda, would’ve could’ves that befall us. I went with my daughter now. That’s what matters. And as we left we hummed:
Together, Wherever We Go
Wherever we go, whatever we do,
We’re gonna go through it together.
We may not go far, but sure as a star,
Wherever we are, we’re stronger together.
I tweak the lyrics. What can I say, but I’m a writer.
Everything’s Coming Up Roses
I had a dream, a wonderful dream about you.
It’s gonna come true.
They think that we’re through, but…
Nothing’s gonna stop us ‘til we’re through!
Everything’s coming up roses for me and for you!
And now, as I sit on this plane, writing to you, my weekly essay, I hope I’ve passed on something else too.
That it’s okay to take a walk.
That it’s okay to step away from duty, from deadlines, from stress—even just for a few minutes.
That rest and joy are worth chasing just as hard as success.
That it’s okay to fail, as long as we keep dreaming.
My hope is that we all learn to capture that feeling—that joy of being lost in the moment. Of humming. Of strumming our fingers to the rhythm of wonder. Of letting the songs in our soul rise again—when we take care of ourselves.
Even if it’s just with a little walk.
Books that can help you disconnect in meaningful ways are:
Fosse by Sam Wasson
A sweeping biography of Bob Fosse that explores the grind, passion, and price of perfection in the performing arts.
The Women Who Raised Me by Victoria Rowell
Memoir of a actress raised by foster mothers—explores nontraditional maternal love, ambition, and support.
All About Love by bell hooks
This book is about love—for yourself , your children, your lives. This book is the emotional underpinning to a loving journey.
Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey
Talks about rest as a form of liberation, especially for Black women.
Listen to the album, Sing Happy by Audra McDonald and the NewYork Philharmonic
Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Bookmarks NC through their website and Bookshop.org
You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.
Let’s keep resting and rising together—please like, subscribe to stay connected to Write of Passage
Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
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