Excited to get back
One of my favourite things is when there is something that I’m so excited about that any time I’m away from it, it’s all that’s on my mind.
When I was a kid and in LOVE with magic, I remember having this new prop I’d bought at an online magic shop and waited MONTHS for to arrive. I loved playing with it and practicing so much that I have a clear memory of being in a class and actually drawing a picture of it. I just couldn’t wait to be back home to practice again.
I’ve had similar feelings about PC games when I was a kid (Sea dogs and The Sims if you must know..!).
I’ve also gone through phases with tv shows- I remember working through Breaking Bad and I was so inside the world, I’d be thinking about the characters in my normal life, longing to see them all again to see what happens next.
This feeling of excited longing for somethign that is waiting for you back home is divine.
I think we should all always have something like this. A project or a passion.
The theatre we’re performing at gave me a guitar to have in my apartment while I’m here for the run of the show. When I’m doing the show, I catch myself excited to be back in my room playing this gorgeous guitar.
What are you excited to get back to?
Presence. Always.
We just opened Mrs Krishnan’s Party at the Actors Theatre here in Louisville. This was show 280 for us. Doing the show again I was struck by how there is no other option but to be completely present with what is happening.
I can’t think about tomorrow’s two show day or the fact that this is the first show for months. I can’t compare it to when we were here last time or try and preempt moments before they happen.
All I can be is present. And as I’m in it, I’m suddenly aware of how much of a muscle it is to truly be there in that moment.
I’m also looking forward to doing that over and over again and facing the reality of needing to re-meet presence every day. It’s a challenge you simply have to show up for every day.
You already know.
I remember watching a documentary when I was a kid about fire fighters. I can’t recall all of the details, but the bit that sticks out to me was this story of a fireman that predicted the future.
He was in the street and began frantically telling people to clear away from a building. Nothing seemed wrong; it was an ordinary building on an ordinary street on an ordinary day. But something told the fireman to get these people as far away as possible.
A split second later, the building exploded into flames.
How did he know? That’s the question. In an interview later, he said that he didn’t know why, but his intuition told him he needed to move these people. The documentary suggested that it was his years and years of experience that helped him to intuit that moment.
That he didn’t consciously put two and tow together, but his subconscious mind, with the thousands of hours in and around similar explosions, was working away behind the scenes. It was gathering data, noticing tiny details perhaps imperceptible to the naked senses.
The smell right before an explosion. The density of the air. The change in temperature to his skin.
None of these things were being consciously processed and calculated by the fireman.
His experience was working on him. Moving him to action. Moving through him.
That’s where genius comes from. The thousands of hours, millions of distinctions and billions of grey matter connections. Learning when we don’t even know.
There is an unstoppable magic that arrives at our work when we allow this genius to move through us.
You are infinitely intelligent. Infinitely skilled. You are a genius.
Stories that help us
I’ve been on a recent quest to make a little film every day. It’s been a month and there have certainly been days where I did NOT want to. There are certain thoughts, stories or phrases that fly my way and I say:
“Go ahead, take a shot!”
And they say to me:
You don’t have enough ideas!
You made one yesterday, you can’t possibly make another today!
It’ll take you too long.
You don’t have time today.
Nice try, I laugh back at these voices. These are limiting thoughts that usually would do really well at stopping me. AND they nearly did get the better of me, but as luck would have it, I was flicking through my journal on a day these thoughts had a good chance of getting the better of me. I found a journal entry right near the beginning of my daily challenge. I had written down the question to myself:
What would I have to believe in order to make a little film every day and enjoy the process?
Juicy! What a great question- notice also I had written in ‘enjoy the process’ as well. Our brains are really good at answering questions, mostly we don’t choose which questions we ask ourselves, they just spill into our brain through worry and spiral thinking. I find journalling the perfect place to actively ask myself empowering questions. Anyway! Back to what I wrote down, what would I need to believe?
- I’d have to believe it was fun to make a movie, that it was the most fun I could be having
- I’d have to believe that it was quick and easy to do
I didn’t realise it at the time, but adopting these empoweing beliefs had fortified me from the limiting thoughts that inevitably came up as I progressed on this little journey of mine.
I was so grateful that I was reminded of these beliefs that day because it gave me a renewed sense of ease and ownership over what I was doing and made the work a breeze.
So here’s the take away:
- State what it is you want
- Ask yourself: What would I have to believe to achieve this and have an awesome time doing it?
Invent stories that serve you, recognise the ones that don’t and gently toss them into bush outside your house.
A recipe for fulfillment
I thought it would be useful for me to describe here what experience is like when I love life the most.
It’s a collection of feelings and meanings. I suppose you’d call these rules for what has to happen in order for me to feel good. I love feeling enthusiastic, inspired and excited.
It’s when I feel compelled by the future, clear on what I’m doing now and where I’m going. When my senses are receptive enough to enjoy what is around me. That means I’m not tired, food hasn’t dulled me or made me tired. When I can connect and enjoy the people around me and feeling in crystal clear presence with them. When I don’t feel like there’s something I need to do pulling my attention. Or if I feel certainty that there will be time to do the jobs I need to do. When I feel adequately challenged, perhaps at the edge of my ability- but not too far of course! When I feel like I am growing and growing in order to move toward where I want to go. If I feel like my work matters and it is providing value for others. If everything I want and need to do is written down, categorised and scheduled.
What has to happen for you to feel really good and enjoy your day to day life experience?
Answering this question is helpful. If I can spend as much of my time as possible in this zone and shorten the gaps between between these times, I’ll be pretty happy with the experience of my life.
The feel good playlist
I was clearing some old notes on my phone and I found a sweet little note titled:
Things I can do any time to feel good
I looked at the date and it was from the depths of the world wide covid lock down. They range from the sound wide spread advice like:
List three things I’m grateful for
Meditate (classic)
And some more peculiar ones that are very specific to me
Recite a monologue I like
Imagine a place I’ve been before and imagine what’s happening there now (Weird! But cool…)
I remember this list being very useful. It meant that I had done the thinking ahead of time so when I was feeling bored, tired, restless or unresourceful, I didn’t have to exert energy and creativity I didn’t have to try and change my state.
I don’t know about you but when I’m in that state, no idea is a good idea. So having 30 or so things on my list was great. Looking over these, I noticed they fell into a few categories.
Physiological changes
Things like running, breathing exercises or star jumps. These are great because your brain doesn’t have to do anything and if you change your body radically your brain will follow.
Practical tasks
Things that move the needle in your environment. I’ve written about doing the dishes in the past. These cleaning and house work tasks are awesome to me to get a wedge of productivity in the door. (Not that it’s all about productivity! But more on that soon…)
External focus
Things like sending a message to a loved one, doing a metta meditation or a random act of kindness. I liked these because they made me feel great and often I find I’ll do more for others than I will for myself. So with a shift of focus in this direction it reframed my boredom or tiredness as selfish and if there was the possibility to bring love or light to someone it brought me to life a bit and out of my funk.
Some other things that I think are funny or worth a mention:
Extreme laser focus- dedicate the next 10 minutes to one thing
Watch a new interview with someone I admire
Watch a documentary I know nothing about
Watch a movie I know I love
Watch a funny youtube video
Find 10 beautiful things around me
Listen to an entire album (and do nothing else, just sit there!)
Since beginning this blog too I find just starting to write a post here is an excellent cure for the boredom, lack of focus.
What’s on your feel good playlist?
Love and gardening
All the people in our lives are flowers dotted around our living room.
Smiling beautifully at us. If we leave the living room, they’re still there, beaming for us.
Though we may not see them, they are there.
Sometimes flowers need sun. Sometimes they need water. Sometimes they’re happy there on their own (probably enjoying their own beauty)
The art of keeping any flower alive is giving it what it needs when it needs it. Sure, leave the room to make yourself some lunch, but don’t forget to water the plant.
Gardeners also say that they are fed by feeding their plants. Love in is love out. And so the universe goes.
Water the flowers. Nourish the love and have a beautiful living room.
Make it known
I realised recently that the way I imagine tasks dictates my productivity.
If I have a clear picture of doing it, it’s easier- by that I mean, if I close my eyes and can imagine where in the room I’ll be, how I’ll start, how long it’ll probably take and what it will be like when it ends.
I realised this because I had a bit of voice over work to do recently and I examined in myself why I kept putting it off. It was because all of the above variables were abstract. I didn’t know what set up I’d be using. I hadn’t made choices with the text yet. I had no real sense of how long it would take.
The future can often be abstract in this way- we don’t always know what something will be like. So when tasks share this characteristic for me, they get shuffled into the future ongoingly (i.e procrastination)
I ended up just going ahead and doing the best job I could right then and there. It was interesting- it felt a little uncomfortable- but I got it done.
So my take away is to either:
- Make all of the unknowns known; imagine and picture them.
- Just go ahead and do it in the unknown
Temple of generosity
I’ve seen seven broadway shows so far during my visit to New York. One thing that has really struck me on this visit is the fact that these actors do this every single night.
Every. Single. Night.
In the audience, it feels like a once in a lifetime experience- and for many of us it will be. I’ll probably never see Audra do Gypsy again. That’s my orientation going into the show, like it’s only happening once.
The reality of course is that Audra will do it again tonight and tomorrow and the next day until she closes the show. The magic is the actors ability to reengage every night.
In the great actors I’ve seen, I’m seeing characters fighting for their lives, I don’t see a craftsperson. Of course I know they’re there, and the craft is impeccable, that’s a given here- but that vanishes before our eyes.
These great actors are not seeking to reanimate what they rehearsed or what happened in the matinee. Instead they’re reengaging with the reality for the character-
What are they fighting for? What do they stand to lose and win?
And all the while, they’re not missing a note or a step.
These great actors have the uncanny ability to bring pristine presence and searing life to a structure they’ve repeated multiple times. That is magic.
And it’s generous.
To reengage as if it were the first time is generous. It’s generous to us in the audience because it is our first and last time (in that sense, the work is life or death isn’t it?)
And it’s also generous to the character. To reengage every night is to honour the character. The imagined embodiment of the human plight. That’s generous.
Putting in enough hours to be an actor with the craft and spirit to bring this every night is generous.
The audience sit and gaze up, open hearted in the dark. Tell us a story. We’re like children, shown a magic trick that comforts us and tells us we’re not alone.
Every night in temples around New York city, the lights go down and an imaginary human is brought to life. They bare their wounds for us and in turn we listen and open our hearts.
Floating in the air above our heads in the black empty space between actor an audience?
Magic. Vulnerability. Connection. Loneliness. Love. Generosity.
Of the gods
Enthusiasm is a super power. People try and hide their enthusiasm. As kids if we see something we like we show the world.
If we were into Harry Potter and then got to visit Harry Potter world, we would EXPLODE.
Somewhere along the way as we get older, being enthusiastic and excited became somehow uncool.
To show that you cared about something. And that it made you so excited to see it or experience it. Of course it’s vulnerable to care about something. It’s vulnerable to lose your ‘cool’ and squeal with delight a bit.
Adults are serious. This kind of thing is childish.
The word enthusiastic is rooted in the Greek word theos or god. To be enthusiastic is to be inspired or possessed by the gods. There’s magic and energy in enthusiasm. There’s power.
I don’t want to grow out of enthusiasm.