Skip to Content

Embracing Daily Passion Projects: A 30-Minute Ritual

While perusing the online realm recently, I stumbled upon yet another compilation. You’re familiar with these internet lists, aren’t you?

Most of them tend to be clickbait, consuming your time and often devolving into mere promotional content. However, this particular list caught my attention for a valuable nugget it contained. This compilation, discovered on the Reddit platform, comprised 32 insights gleaned by individuals who had celebrated their 72nd birthday.

As expected, the lessons learned encompassed the significance of kindness over being right, the notion that worthwhile endeavors are seldom easy, the importance of being useful for success, and the mantra of never complaining and never explaining. While these lessons ideally shouldn’t require seven decades to internalize, those who had reached the age of 72 found them profoundly meaningful.

Among these pearls of wisdom, one stood out: “Engage in a passion project, even if just for 30 minutes daily. The impact is cumulative.” This particular advice resonated deeply with me.

At present, my passion project revolves around community theater, where I have secured a role in the production of “Arsenic and Old Lace,” to be staged by the Elk Rapids Players during the initial two weekends of May. For the uninitiated, delving into a theatrical performance entails dedicating those daily “30 minutes” primarily to ingraining the script’s lines into memory.

This isn’t my inaugural foray into the realm of theater, so I am well-acquainted with the routine, which primarily involves repetition. The tried-and-true method typically comprises perusing the script, reciting lines while unaided by the text, and repeating this process. While actors may adopt varied learning approaches, the crux often involves this fundamental drill. Line rehearsals can be solitary or communal, with our current focus being on collective memorization.

Given that plays unfold not from the comfort of my couch—my current memorization hub—but on the stage, I must commit the lines to memory twice. While I may have the lines down pat at home, the transition to the stage necessitates a secondary memorization phase known as blocking. This stage, involving physical movements that accompany the lines, aids in reinforcing my memory.

The narrative of “Arsenic and Old Lace” revolves around two endearing elderly ladies who have a peculiar penchant for luring solitary elderly gentlemen seeking lodging. Upon discovering that these men lack surviving relatives, the ladies administer poison disguised in elderberry wine before interring them in their basement. The plot thickens with the arrival of their nephew and his German plastic surgeon accomplice, bearing the corpse of a recent victim. And let’s not forget the deceased individuals being buried in the basement by another nephew who believes himself to be Teddy Roosevelt, fervently digging the Panama Canal.

Assuming the memorization and blocking processes unfold smoothly, I am slated to portray the role of the German plastic surgeon. Apart from mastering the lines, perfecting a convincing German accent is also on the agenda. However, the highlight of this role lies in its supportive nature. While my character makes a tardy entrance and exits a tad early, the intervening moments afford ample opportunities to deliver impactful lines. As the show approaches and rehearsals intensify, the initial 30-minute endeavor is poised to extend into a couple of hours. Yet, as they say, that’s the essence of show business.

This theatrical endeavor promises excitement for aficionados of the arts and serves as a valuable lesson in nurturing an active and engaged mind for all of us.

So, in the spirit of “engaging in a passion project” and dedicating “30 minutes daily,” will the effects truly compound? Secure a ticket and witness the unfolding narrative firsthand.