Photo
by Sudan Ouyang on Unsplash
The pandemic thus far has dealt me one unexpected disappointment: the postponement of Hamilton in Atlanta.
Live performance is something we often experience as uplifting and renewing. Another balm unavailable to us during the COVID crisis.
In no way am I suggesting that this is a big deal. I have mercifully been spared a variety of painful decisions, tragedies and heartbreaks, but the musical has become a touchstone for me.
The proverbial opportunity to turn lemons into lemonade appeared when I was able to watch Hamilton, with millions of others, as Disney started streaming the original cast production. It was a remarkable opportunity to see an amazing ensemble and the play itself is simply mesmerizing.
Since my month of streaming had not yet expired, I started listening to it while cleaning my house.
I'd have to say, and being a clinical psychologist, I’m qualified to say, things started to get a little obsessive. As you might guess, paying someone to clean my house means I really don't like cleaning. Nevertheless, I've lately been looking forward to cleaning because it's become my Hamilton time.
