For Women’s History Month, the Health and Happiness Club will be featuring a month of interviews with women who inspire us. The women we highlight will span a variety of backgrounds, ages, localities, and experiences. We hope you enjoy the extraordinary month of March!
Sandra Joseph is an actress best known for her portrayal of Christine Daae in the Broadway hit musical Phantom of the Opera. After ending her 8 year run as the longest running Christine in Broadway history, she was diagnosed with a small skull based tumor. However, this diagnosis did not stop her from pursuing life to the fullest. In addition to gracing the stage and screen with her talent, she is also a teacher and speaker and is currently working on her first book, Phantom Girl, A Memoir of Becoming Real. This summer, Sandra will be teaching a 5-day workshop at the renowned Omega Institute entitled, Performing as a Path to Presence. Many thanks to Sandra for sharing her inspirational and honest words. For additional information on both Sandra and her upcoming publication, please visit her website.
When did you first get the "bug"? How did you turn your desire to perform into the reality of a career?
Like many performers of my generation, it was seeing Annie that did it. I was around eight years old, sitting in The Fisher Theatre in Detroit with my family, and there was that Li’l Orphan up there—a girl about my size, my age—singing, acting, dancing, and wearing that fabulous red dress. The longing I felt was so real it was like physical pain. But despite my intense yearning to be on stage, I knew that girls like that were different from me. They were brave, confident, and special. I was buck-toothed, scrawny, and inadequate. But somewhere within me there existed a tiny kernel of belief in possibility. I think that’s all anyone needs—a little spark of belief coupled with a burning desire to do something—even if it scares the pants off of you.
I started doing plays and musicals in high school, studied (but was too scared to major in) theatre in college, and eventually moved to New York. After an insane amount of rejections, running out of money countless times, and nearly giving up and moving back to Michigan, I finally landed the role that changed my life forever.
You were the longest running Christine in The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. How did you continue to breathe fresh perspective into the role after performing it countless times?
Keeping the show fresh was a major challenge after performing the same songs and scenes six nights a week for a decade. It was a wonderful exercise in staying present. Just like in life, it’s sometimes difficult to keep our attention focused on the here and now, but as Eckhart Tolle has taught us, now is always where the power is. The same is true in a performance. On stage and in life, if you stay awake to and aware of what is happening in the present moment, you’re home free. That is the theme of the workshop I’m teaching at Omega this summer. It’s called Performing as a Path to Presence and it utilizes acting and singing techniques as tools toward greater presence in life. I’m super excited about it.
The title of your website/blog is "Sandra Joseph: Living an Unmasked Life". What does this mean?
For the decade that I played Christine, my job was to unmask the phantom and to learn to see him—good, bad, and ugly—with unconditional love. The thing I could never figure out was how to see myself with that same unconditional acceptance.
When I was a kid sitting in the theatre watching Annie, I thought that if I grew up to be a successful performer, then I would finally feel valuable, but in actuality I was more insecure and unhappy at the height of my success than ever before. We think that achievement, accolades, and accomplishment are going to give us a sense of authentic confidence, but in my experience facing down difficulty has proved to be the real doorway to lasting self-worth.
Three things happened that changed everything for me: Phantom decided not to renew my contract, my beloved dad died suddenly, and I was diagnosed with a tumor at the entry point of my brain. It was a triple whammy within eighteen months. I felt as though all of my protective masks had been ripped off and I was walking around like an open wound. But in the midst of my most anguished and fearful moments, a portal seemed to open to a dimension of unfathomable comfort. I felt as though I was surrounded and upheld by the compassionate presence of everyone who had ever suffered. I realized that pain fully experienced ceases to hurt. If you go all the way into the pain, really allow yourself to feel it, you break through to the most profound peace.
In time I began to notice that my old insecurities had fallen away. I was no longer walking around cramped with fear. I began to trust myself more, to care less what other people thought of me, and to laugh more often. In The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran writes: “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain.”
Living an unmasked life is a mindset of openheartedness. When we embrace our vulnerability we become more compassionate toward ourselves, and therefore, more compassionate toward one another.
How has the diagnosis of a small skull base tumor changed the way you approach life and performance?
The crazy thing is that I may have had the tumor for a decade before I found out about it. I was being tested for something else when the tumor was discovered. I don’t have any troublesome symptoms, but now that I know about the little bugger near my brain, I have perhaps the most troublesome symptom of all to contend with: fear. The tumor, though I would never have chosen it, has become my teacher. Because my mind loves to imagine the worst possible “what if’s” of the future, I’m continually given the opportunity to return to the here and now. In this moment, I’m perfectly healthy.
Every challenge is an opportunity to become more present. Even when I’m on the MRI table, literally trembling with fear as I wait to find out if the tumor has grown, I practice being the witness to my emotions. There is a separate Self watching me on the table and that other Self is not afraid. It’s a container, a compassionate presence in which the emotions I’m experiencing can be fully expressed. Witnessing what is happening keeps me from feeling like fear will swallow me whole.
The diagnosis also reminded me that a long life is not a given, but a gift. Everywhere we look there are signs of our impermanence, but we get so caught up in the day-to-day hustle that we forget that the clock is ticking. One could argue that thinking about the fact that our days are numbered is just too damned depressing. But from another perspective, staying mindful of impermanence gives us reason to celebrate. It lends meaning to every moment, relationship, and interaction we have.
As a lifelong self-help addict, finding out about my tumor helped me stop working so hard to better myself. Although I’m still deeply committed to personal and spiritual growth, I’m no longer in a frenzied sprint toward every door marked “Improvement.” The diagnosis allowed me to relax and see the perfection in the imperfect self that I am—even if I never lose another pound, gain another insight, or accomplish another goal.
Aside from stories of the stage, what can readers expect from your upcoming book, "Phantom Girl, a Memoir of Becoming Real"?
My journey from the cattle call lines to The Great White Way is certainly a part of the book, but my story is really about unmasking authentic self-worth. I hope the book will inspire people to go after their dreams in spite of their fears, but more than that, I hope it will teach others what it took a lot of hardship for me to learn—how to see the unmasked person in the mirror through eyes of unconditional love.
What does Women's History Month mean to you? Which women have inspired you to pursue your dreams?
As Oprah has said, “We stand on the shoulders of giants.” I am a part of “Generation X” but I think they should call us “Generation O.” We, who have been fortunate enough to grow up during Oprah’s reign in media, cannot overstate her contribution to our belief in what is possible for our lives. As a girl in Detroit with a seemingly impossible dream, all I had to do was flip on my TV for instant inspiration. I will go to my grave grateful that I had the opportunity to say “thank you” to her in person.
(All photos and video courtesy of sandrajoseph.com. Phantom photo credit Joan Marcus. Phantom played by Ron Bohmer.)
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