I decided to get up and sing at an open mic night at All Angels’ Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side one time. I’d been in NYC all of 5 days.

I’d taken a creative writing workshop back in 1998 with one of my writing heroes, Madeleine L’Engle, and she said, “You should go to my church. It’s on West 80th Street, right behind Zabar’s.”

So, I did what Madeleine L’Engle told me to do.

After the open mic, a woman introduced herself, and she gave me the phone numbers of her vocal coach and her agent. “Give them a call,” she said.

“Okay, kind woman from Madeleine L’Engle’s church,” I thought.

And I did.

These two calls turned out to be my first agent and my first vocal coach.

The vocal coach was Steve Lutvak who’d go on to win a Tony for his score of A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder.

He’d suggest songs, give you the bulky scores to cart down to the Kinko’s on the corner, you’d run your Xeroxes and return the books to the doorman in a worn FedEx envelope.

At one session, Steve said, “Hey, do you want to audition for Les Mis?”

Lemme think. Uh, yes, please.

So he called Jamibeth Margolis who’d taken over the casting. When he believed in you, he told folks. ?

I didn’t book Les Mis (yet!), but after that audition, I got a call about a replacement on the national tour of Phantom, and that turned into my first union job.

Steve passed away a month ago, and that feels very wrong. Like much of the world feels these days. God help us, please.

I’m reflecting on choices, connections, and life itself lately because I just read Merri Sugarman’s book From Craft to Career: A Casting Director’s Guide for the Actor.

She tells stories about small moments that changed life trajectories (actors’ and her own), and it made me think, “Wow, if I hadn’t taken that class, turned up at that open mic, picked up the phone that time…. on and on.”

It also made me reflect on the times when I had an impulse to make a call, introduce myself, or ask somebody about something and then stopped —

This is silly — I can’t just email them outa the blue.

I’ll look foolish or needy-pants.

I’ll just live in the nebulous “maybe someday” rather than risk a “no.”

So many ideas and nudges I rationalized away in a matter of seconds.

After mulling on some of those memories, I decided that from here on out I would honor more nudges.

Because when I look back, I can see the times when I used my courage and followed the impulse; often the result was a fulfilling creative interaction, sometimes even a terrific job.

And when the outcome I hoped for didn’t happen, I showed myself I could leap and even survive a “no.”

Your time here ? is precious. What’s nudging you?

May I please serve as your cheerleader of the day to officially tell you through my megaphone ? ”Go make a start!”? S-T-A-R-T start!

If you’re like me, and you’re afraid of the pain of a “no,” let’s remember a closed door (while tear-inducing) is guidance.

We don’t know what terrific shenanigans we could get diverted to until we start making steps and finding things out.

I know. I’d like to figure it out ahead of time in my brain, too. Doesn’t work that way.

So get going, nudgey-pie. Because it’s true. There’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.

Love much, and use your courage,

Dan