“If you’re not getting lost in the work, you’re not doing the work.”

—Former writing teacher of mine

That quote stayed with me through the years. Getting “lost” in the work—that place where time blurs and you’re deeply immersed—is where the magic happens. I’m obsessed with great theater. When it’s done well, it transports you to another world—and in doing so, brings you back to a deeper part of yourself. Last week, I had the total joy of seeing Judd Hirsch on stage—yes, the guy from Taxi. At 90 years old, he’s still performing with more fire and clarity than people half his age.

In I’m not Rappaport, he played an 80-something-year-old… hunched over to appear older than he actually is. Forty years ago, Judd played a 80-year-old when he was only 50. He won a Tony for it. So now we’re watching a 90-year-old playing an 80-year-old, and had to hunch over to embody a character who was 10 years younger than himself. A masterclass in time, aging, and embodiment.

What struck me most was the relationship between his character and the daughter. It was complex, messy, full of love, concern, and frustration. I saw myself in the daughter. And I saw my mother in Judd’s character. I wasn’t watching a play. I was reliving my own story, my own tangled moments of caregiving, concern, and bittersweet joy. I flashed back to when my siblings and insisted my mom needed to enter an independent living facility. If I didn’t hear from her in a few hours, my brain went to all the worst-case scenarios. She’d be off doing “her thing”—feeding the homeless while offering unsolicited group therapy, helping strangers ask each other out, creating small-scale miracles in the most unexpected places. It was hilarious. Beautiful. Exhausting.

Like Judd’s character, my mom had big purpose. But passion & purpose without direction creates chaos—even when it’s fueled by love. And that’s what made the play so powerful. It wasn’t just entertainment. It was recognition. The characters became mirrors. The story became a lens. I didn’t just see them—I saw myself. Which leads me to leadership and doing meaningful work. When you dive into something fully—get “lost” in it—it changes you. The process shape shifts. It grows. And in turn, you bring that depth to others. Give me good writing, rich characters, and a story that makes me gasp so loudly my partner turns to me mid-play and says, “Sweetie, it’s just theater.” To which I replied, “That’s why we’re here. To feel something real.” Because great art—and great work—brings us home to ourselves.

✨ 3 Sparkle-Worthy Takeaways:

1) Passion and purpose need direction. Without it, they can become overwhelming (for you and everyone around you).

2) Connection happens when we really see people. Whether it’s your clients, team, or family, it’s about honoring their inner worlds.

3) Seek out transformational art. It teaches us who we are and who we want to be. What resonates for you? I’d love to know.