Monday, November 7, 2016

Turning Pro: The Professional Mindset

In this last section of the book, Pressfield breaks down what the Professional thinks. It has taken me a long time to get to this level of my practice with self-love, self-affirmation and compassion. And much of it is due to reading both Turning Pro and The War of Art. I also picked up another short crib sheet called Do the Work, which breaks down the lessons of both books through the prism of writing screenplays. I am a lucky guy. I get to work professionally as a Professional. 

I have been reminded a lot lately that the hierarchical pursuit of a writing career doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if it's just to serve the Ego. But working towards something greater, towards having a practice that fulfills me despite what the outside rewards happen to be, that's a real pursuit. Pressfield goes into what a writing practice is in this last section. It's probably the one section out of all three books that I re-read the most. 

The Professional Mindset. Has a nice ring to it. It says everything I want to know about. And that mindset has made me a calmer, harder working, less anxious human being. And with that, it has made me a better writer.

Qualities of the Professional


  1. The professional shows up every day.
  2. The professional stays on the job all day.
  3. The professional is committed over the long haul.
  4. For the professional, the stakes are high and real.
  5. The professional is patient.
  6. The professional seeks order.
  7. The professional demystifies.
  8. The professional acts in the face of fear.
  9. The professional accepts no excuses.
  10. The professional plays it as it lays.
  11. The professional is prepared.
  12. The professional does not show off.
  13. The professional dedicates himself to mastering technique.
  14. The professional does not hesitate to ask for help.
  15. The professional does not take failure or success personally.
  16. The professional does not identify with his or her instrument.
  17. The professional endures adversity.
  18. The professional self-validates.
  19. The professional is recognized by other professionals.
  20. A professional is courageous.
  21. The professional will not be distracted.
  22. The professional is ruthless with himself.
  23. The professional has compassion for herself.
  24. The professional lives in the present.
  25. The professional defers gratification.
  26. The professional does not wait for inspiration.
  27. The professional does not give his power away to others.
  28. The professional helps others.
The professional does a lot of things, apparently. I look at that list and I see what I still struggle with. It's funny, but the first two - showing up every day and staying on the job all day - are probably the hardest. And the most simple. In a way, I do show up every day, even if I'm not writing every day. Showing up every day is being in the mindset that the priority of your day is your craft. I mentally show up every day, absolutely. And yes I get distracted, but considering where my practice was several years ago, I'm more committed than ever. I questioned whether or not I wanted to continue writing after my Dad died because I didn't know if anything meant more than the year I spent with him. But I also know that living my destiny is the best way to pay tribute to my Dad. And not letting bullshit like Hollywood get in the way of my destiny. I have to work in a system. Someone who could actually influence my career asked me if I want to work on network TV. I said YES. Right away. Unequivocally. She said I have the temperament and personality to do that and to go far, if I want to. But I know that there's a difference between the art of what I do and the commerce of what I do. I respect both immensely. And it takes a certain stamina to work in network TV. I need that experience to know whether or not it's the thing for me. And here's someone saying that I could handle it. It honestly isn't about the money alone. It's about the position and the learning that comes with working at that level - and working at that level is getting paid at that level. So it's a byproduct. But that's not the primary goal for me. I need to learn how to be nimble. And that level of competition is how you get there. Along with that level of competition comes that level of evil eye. But life isn't a temperature controlled bubble.

I'm kind of good with patience. Well, I'm impatient. So I guess I'm not good with it. But I am good with  #3 and #17 - I am in it for the long haul and I can endure adversity. So while I'm not patient, I can wait shit out. I'm getting better at asking for help (#14) and not getting distracted (#21). Working on both of those currently.

The Professional does not give his power away to others. This I have struggled with most of my life. I'm a lot more assertive and sassier because I don't give my power away anymore. I'm not as easy. That's for sure. But I won't give my power away any more. I am compassionate and I love to help others, but I won't seek out a guru. In some ways, I'm happy not to have a mentor because that means that I won't be temped to give my power away. I love receiving help, but if I'm giving away my opinions and self-love to someone else - that's not good. I feel like this mostly shows up in my work with an executive, producer or representative. It's easy to give away your power to the person with the white lab coat - the doctor who tells you what is going to work and not work in regards to your health. When I stopped believing doctors just because they were doctors, I stopped giving away my power to others so much. It's not a perfect science, but I'm aware of all 28 of these edicts whenever I work on my art.

Ruthless
I love this story in the book of Picasso taking these paintings that a gallery owner loved and taking a knife to all of them because he wasn't happy. In grad school, I was told that I wasn't precious about my work. I took this as a huge complement. I like to tear things down and start over. I'm also learning that I'm getting better at knowing what I want going in, so that there's less of the tearing down. But I'm not afraid to do it. I think that's the point. I literally have no problem cutting lines. I get a thrill out of it actually. I want it to get better and I'm not willing to rest on my laurels.

Compassion
Funny that these two qualities are next to each other. I found that once I could give compassion to others, I could find it for myself. I'm much kinder when things aren't working the way I want them to. I'm patient and loving with myself. Then the work comes. I recently worked with a director who was so nice to me that I was worried that the work we were doing wasn't going to be anywhere near terrific because she wasn't tearing me a new asshole. The play turned out great - better than other things I've written because of her compassion for me. Compassion is such a major part of my Professional mindset because it means I am constantly encouraging myself instead of tearing down and building back up. That tearing down takes time, it robs me of momentum and it's useless. There's nothing wrong with encouragement. Compassion means that I'm also not spending time tearing down other people. I'm not letting my jealousy or my self-hatred rule my brain and run my mouth.

My compassion also allows me to be there for other people - "The professional helps others." I teach. I love teaching and I love sharing my experience with my students. I get invigorated by my students. Their energy and enthusiasm fuels me. I am not threatened by them. I don't think that by helping them I'm allowing them to get further ahead and therefore they become a threat. I had a friend a couple of years ago who taught and who started to get jealous of his students. It was a dangerous place to be. It was a negative place to be. That negativity eventually spread to other people around him, including me. This guy was a sweet guy whose jealousy made him act out and alienate people. However, that guy is having a successful run of it right now. That didn't prevent him from his success, nothing was going to prevent him from success that's owed him. But his lack of compassion for himself and for others will rear its head elsewhere. My compassion keeps me from having those flips of fancy. I'm in it for the long game and I want to be comfortable in my skin. I want to be happy for others. I want to have a circle of friendship that's tight and supportive. That's how I want to live. The successes and failures will happen as they happen. I don't have to be a nice guy to be successful. I'd rather be a nice guy in my success because it makes life easier. That's what compassion does. It makes life more pleasant.

I had drinks with a friend of mine tonight who's also enjoying great success. I love that I can give her a hug and mean it. That's the person I want to be. I had coffee with a high level writer/producer yesterday who wants to reach out and help me. Nothing is taken away from any of us by being supportive and helping each other out. It enhances the pleasure of living and the quality of life.

Magic
Does discipline get in the way of the magic? We have this idea that magic creates the art. And magic does play a part. Sometimes I'll be working and I'll put something down and an idea will pop in my head. But I had to be there, showing up every day, for that to happen. The discipline harnesses the energy around which the magic can occur. The discipline is the smoke and the magic is the fire.

I consider myself a craftsperson. I'm not a magician. I'm not a sorcerer. I'm not a genius. I'm the guy who shows up and does the work. I have a vision. And I imagine a greater purpose for my work. But I have no spells and potions. I have hard work. I have focus. I have curiosity. I see the joy in the work. There are two salaries as Pressfield describes it. There's an actual monetary salary - that goes up and down. Sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not there. But then there's the psychological salary. My mind is sharp and my focus is strong because I have developed them. The success for me is the work. I'm blessed that I have the ability and the concentration to do the work. I'm able to juggle teaching, writing, working with the theatre company, and a personal life. I love writing and teaching. I get energized by teaching my students the nuts and bolts of dramatic writing. I reinforce my own knowledge every day I grade a paper, prepare a lecture, give a lecture and talk to my students. I have been reinforcing my knowledge of TV and film writing for ten weeks. I have been in training for my next TV job for the past ten weeks. My focus has not waivered. Teaching does not take me away from my writing work - it brings me closer to it. 

This week, I start running a writer's room with my class. I am training to be a showrunner. We do that for the next four weeks. If I end up teaching in the spring, I will be running a writer's room all term. The magic happens because I can run through my drills faster. I can write a script or edit a script faster and with more precision because I am always working at it. The skill of being in the writer's room and banging out outlines and scripts in three months prepared me to be a better practitioner. A better athlete. And this is a race, it's a marathon. And I'm training every day to keep my stamina up to run that race. 

Pressfield says that when we do the work for its own reward, it becomes a practice. And that's what it has become.

The Practice

My Years in the Wilderness (from Turning Pro) by Steven Pressfield

"In a way, I was lucky that I experienced failure for so many years. Because there were no conventional rewards, I was forced to ask myself, Why am I doing this? Am I crazy? All of my friends are making money and settling down and living normal lives. What the hell am I doing? Am I nuts? What is wrong with me?

"In the end I answered the question by realizing I have no choice. I couldn't do anything else. When I tried, I got so depressed I couldn't stand it. So when I wrote yet another novel or screenplay that I couldn't sell, I had no choice but to write another after that. The truth was, I was enjoying myself. Maybe no one else liked the stuff I was doing, but I did. I was learning. I was getting better.

"The work became, in its own demented way, a practice. It sustained me and it sustains me still."

I couldn't have said it better myself. This is my philosophy. I can't stop. I tried to. I tried to get other jobs. I tried to make money. The Universe wouldn't let me. Even when I begged it to let me do something else. I got depressed when I didn't write. I didn't like my life when I wasn't pursuing writing full time. That's why I was miserable for the first seven years I lived in LA. I got less and less miserable when I stopped pursuing writing for a limited purpose - for money, for fame, for love, for recognition, for validation. Now that writing has a purpose, now that I have made it a practice, I am much happier. This is where I am supposed to be. 

And I needed the years to question if I was nuts or misguided or stupid. I needed the years to do it every day, to develop a habit, to not give up. And I learned and got better. I did it for its own reward, not because the next script was going to make me famous or something. 

I have made this practice my primary purpose every day. I have a ritual - I get up, I get tea, I get meditating and I get going. I have devoted myself to the daily practice of writing. Like Pressfield says, it sustains him.

A practice has a space. Like I've mentioned before, two years ago I had a space to work and to go to every day for six months. It was incredible to have that space available. Then I lost it. But it created a space within me. But even the year before that, I went to the library or a coffee shop and wrote with friends. I was creating a space around me that was sacred for my writing. Then I had the physical office. Then I created the space in my life for writing. I have a time every day that I write. I know that getting started by 10 AM is the best thing for me. I can still get work done, but if I get started early, then I can most likely be productive every day. I have a clear intention every day. I know what I'm going to be working on and I work on it. I have an agenda for myself every day that I work.

Pressfield says that when we up our game aesthetically, we elevate it. It becomes something that has a higher purpose. He cited Roseanne Cash's story who decided, at a midpoint in her career, to go back and change the way she studied her craft. She started studying different disciplines to up her game. Even when I was working on our show, I knew that I needed to be more efficient in the way I worked. I was curious to see what it was like to work on set. So I spent about three weeks or so (over a month total if you include the time I was in meetings) learning everything I could. Even being in the room upped my game by showing me how to do real outlines and then taking me through to the draft stage. Now when I work on my own stuff, it takes me much less time to get a draft together. But I only was able to get my drafts in as quick as I did during the show because I had been writing a lot over the past several years. I increased my productivity and put myself on a schedule. I decided to treat my office as a one man production office with a slate of original material I was generating myself. Once I started behaving like a Professional, professional opportunities started coming my way. The reason so many things happened this year is because I've been acting like a Pro for all of this time. And that Professional mindset begets more Professional attitudes. It feeds on itself.

Trusting the Mystery

I call it "welcoming surprise." I have learned to welcome surprise into my life. I don't expect the things I think are going to happen. I leave myself open to be surprised, because as Oprah says it, you let the Universe dream a bigger dream than you can for yourself. I want to be surprised.

I trust that there will always be something inside the box. I won't be faced with the terror of a blank page for long. The muse will always come through - if she knows where to find me. 

My friends and I often say that we're sometimes the worst judge of our own work. Sometimes the things we love feel the clearest - because we have a desire for connectivity. When I've written plays or TV pilots that feel like they'd resonate with people, those are the ones that don't seem to. When something feels like a sure bet, it's not. I wrote this last play, which on some levels could be considered something that would resonate. But when I was writing, I wasn't thinking of connecting per se. I was taking a wild risk and writing in a voice I've never written in before. When I got immediate feedback that it resonated, I was shocked. When I write something that doesn't feel like a sure thing, I'm trusting the mystery. When I write something and I say "I don't care if this gets produced", I am trusting the mystery. I don't always see the things that others see in my work. Thankfully, I have people around me who I respect and who tell me to keep going and to keep trusting the mystery.
 
My friend David has two plays he has written in the past three years that I love. I'm not sure what it is about the play he wrote about yogurt, but there's something that resonates for me about it. There's also something about his spirit that resonates in his work that I just love. It's a mercurial, on the razor's edge quality that I respond to. He's not writing in a clear cut way, but he's also communicating emotion directly. Everything's a bit frayed on the edges, which I like. It's not sloppy, but it's not so clean that the emotion has been sanitized out of it. It's inviting. And the same thing about this new play he just finished that has a great idea at the center of it. But he feels like he's at the center of the ocean with water all around him. I can see there's land in sight.

My friend Liz and I got together for drinks last night and we had this exact conversation about trusting the mystery. I said to her that I look forward to being surprised because the best things have come about when they've been unexpected. It's that idea of the Universe dreaming a bigger dream than you could for yourself. I didn't expect to be on a show this year or be on set or have three half-hours of television with my name on them or to join a theatre company or the WGA. I couldn't have dreamed that for myself. Maybe that's because I was involved in the work and not worried about the fruits of that labor. 

Trusting the mystery means that I work over my head a lot. I want to stretch and to grow and I hope that whatever's inside the box or behind the blank page is something that I can use. For the new play I'm working on, I want to play with language in a way I've never done before. I want each character to have a distinct way of expressing themselves - maybe this comes about in terms of meter and cadence. Maybe it's about a regional way of speaking. Maybe it's because these characters are all from different eras. I'm not sure. But I know I want them to speak differently and none of those ways are ways that I speak necessarily. I have some research to do and that will help, but the mystery will be in the fact that I can't time travel and understand factually how these characters talked. But I can imagine and dream and create the way they talk based on what I learn. That's trusting the mystery. And there's something about creating a bridge between the research and my own imagination that's exciting.

Trusting the mystery is also knowing that it's not all going to be a steady flow of creativity everyday. I come to my place of work every day with the intention of being available. Sometimes I write these blogs. Sometimes I muse on about a subject that's on the periphery of what I really want to write about. Sometimes I write twenty pages. But I sit in that space with the intention of the subject I'm working on. I don't always get as much done as I'd like to. But I'm around. I always show up. I'm learning not to fear the inspiration not being there. As long as I come to it everyday, something will come to me. Whether it's in the car as I'm driving or when I'm in front of my computer. I take each day as it comes to me, even when I'm sad or angry or hurt. I show up to the field ready to give it my all, even if my all involves me in a cast or with a limp. I do what I can every day. And on the strong days, I push it. And on the less strong days, I push it. 

What Turning Pro Means To Me

Turning Pro means that I'm at it every day. It means that I don't let up, even if I don't have 100% to give that day. I trust that it's coming. Even if it's not today. I have patience and perseverance. I have confidence.

Turning Pro is what my friend David said to me last week. He said that it doesn't seem like I worry. He asked me if I felt like I had "made it" because I don't seem to worry. I don't feel like I've made it. But it's true that some part of me doesn't worry. I trust the mystery. I have turned Pro. I instantly got defensive and told him that I DO worry, as if I had to reassure himself that I'm human and not perfect. But I have to own what he said because it was a gift, a reminder to me that I have turned Pro and I don't have to apologize for it.

Turning Pro means that I don't worry about what's in the box or if I'll ever make it or if my talents will be appreciated. Because something is always in the box, I've been hired once and I'll be hired again, and I appreciate my talents. I self-validate. I always know what my value is, so it doesn't matter if no one else is aware.

This Walt Whitman quote has been my destination for the past 21 years. I think I've finally reached it:

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.

One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself
And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.

That is Turning Pro.

My intention is to sit content.
My intention is to know.
My intention is to be.
My intention is to expand, like Walt Whitman expanded in Song of Myself.

I am grateful for Song of Myself.
I am grateful for self-knowledge.
I am grateful for self-love.
I am grateful for the entities that bring me closer to myself.
I am grateful for the person who knew what this Song meant 21 years ago.
I am grateful for the gifts of literature coming to communicate with me through time and space.

No comments:

Post a Comment