Saturday, July 16, 2016

Squad Goals

A friend and I were having a conversation the other day about big dreams. We're both writers and she asked me what my big goals were careerwise - which awards or accolades would I like to win. She had two specific high profile ones. And then she turned to me.

Sure, I've thought about winning some big award like an Oscar or a Tony or a Pulitzer. I believe in reaching for the stars and for setting high standards for oneself. But those kinds of accolades don't always have to do with how talented you are or how hard you worked that year or even if you were the best. I'm not saying I'm above it all. But that conversation was one in a series of a lot of great reminders lately to focus on the labor, not the fruit of my labors.

I get that it motivates people to have a goal like that. The goal is basically to do good work. But the underlying message is that you won't feel accomplished until that happens in your life time. It takes me back to this philosophy of not being so goal-oriented. That doesn't mean you don't have motivation or ambition. It means that setting a goal and not being happy unless and until you reach that goal sets one up for failure. Or an "I've failed" mentality.

Of course, I'd like to be acknowledged by my peers as an accomplished writer. I'm not saying I don't care about any of that. But that's not a goal I can set my sights on. I can do everything it takes to reach a goal like that. I can work every day. I can focus my life around work. I can be excited about the work I'm doing. That should get me to fulfillment and happiness - that's the target for me. Every day I sit down to write. I always get a lot done. Some days it doesn't look like it. But I always learn something every day. I always read or watch something that peaks me curiosity. And at some point that results in a new piece of work.

Yesterday, I re-typed my entire script for the play I'm rewriting. My goal wasn't to start the script rewrite. My goal was to re-type the script. It was also to get myself in the mindset of the play again. I hit the keys. I felt accomplished because all I was doing was re-typing. It had the exact physical sensation of being "on a roll." So as I'm re-typing I had some fixes for an area of the script. I re-wrote a scene between my lead character and his brother. Then I took some breaks and got back into it. I knew I had to fix the name of a character and I needed to turn the play from a two act play into a full-length one act. SO there were changes to be made in doing that. I got past that. Then I wrote something new. I wrote a new scene between the two brothers. That was terrific. I wrote some other stuff and was approaching the end. Then I realize that the end doesn't work. So I stopped. And now I need to rewrite a new end for the play. What am I going to write? I'm stuck!

Then I remembered -

This wasn't even supposed to be a rewrite! Once I released myself of the pressure of doing a rewrite, I did a rewrite.

Along those lines, I listened to the Nerdist podcast with Judd Apatow from earlier this year. He said that once he finished Freaks and Geeks, which only lasted 13 episodes, he realized that was the thing he always wanted to do and everything else after was gravy. It was still motivated and of quality, but he had nothing left to prove. So everything that has come afterward - which has various levels of quality, but it all shows an incredible amount of growth from Freaks and Geeks - has allowed him to be free because he did the thing he wanted. He took the pressure off himself. He also mentioned that the people who won the Oscar and felt like they had to write things that were "better" because they had an award, didn't produce much after that. But those who kept writing - who were invested in the labor rather than the fruit of that labor - were still prolific in their advanced years. That's the kind of writer I want to be. I want to be the guy who keeps growing. Does that mean I'll have a successful career? Yes. Does that mean I'll make a lot of money? That's hard to say. But it won't be because I'm not deserving or talented.

Going back to my friend's question, here's how I answered it (and this was before listening to the podcast):

My goal was always to have an artistic home. And I have that now. I have a theatre company that sought me out and wanted to work with me. This company, coincidentally, is somewhere I would have given my left nut to work with. But knowing that for every play I write, I will have a guaranteed reading. To know that I have a writer's group that will help me develop this play and work out my initial thoughts. To know that I can help cultivate a list of writers and that I have a base where I can support those writers. To know that I can start programming that supports things I want to do. To know that I can propose to do productions of my plays. This is all success. I have a place I can come to and be free.

Out of that freedom I can write things that matter to me. I no longer feel like I'm throwing things into a vacuum because I have a theatre that wants to hear my next play. That makes me feel less lonely. That keeps my skills sharp. That keeps me writing and risk taking and succeeding. And out of that labor will come fruits. Fruits I've wanted to taste. Fruits I've admired. Fruits I've never heard of before. Fruits I never thought it would be possible to taste. Instead of two things, I leave myself open for a lot more things to happen.

I'm happy every day to have a place to share my ideas and hopes. I'm happy I have co-conspirators who help actualize my vision. I'm happy to have co-conspirators to collaborate with and to help them actualize their vision. At the theatre, we've got a lot of great programming. I happened upon a theatre company that actually gets things done. I was with another friend who asked me to join another writer's group. But this theatre hasn't made any commitments to their writers for further workshops and readings of the full work. I was a part of another group last year that has been slow to commit to the writers of their almost year long development process to produce their works. The excuse I always hear is MONEY. And that's a real obstacle. But we're doing workshops. We're doing readings. We have a space to do our writer's group. We're doing it with limited resources and we're actually making it happen. That's an environment in which I can thrive. That's an environment that values me as a company member and wants to hear more from me. That's a place that supports me as an artist. And from that vantage point, I can do anything.

That's what I want. That's what I have. And the next steps from here are limitless.

I am grateful for a home base.
I am grateful for real action.
I am grateful for love in my life.
I am grateful for support.
I am grateful for honesty.
I am grateful for authenticity.

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