Another Room Closed

I'm done with my second writer's room. I've been in two writer's rooms in the past year. And now the second one is done. I now face the thing I always face when I'm done with something.

What now?

Well, yesterday I set up my new computer, which I'm typing on now. It feels pretty great to be writing on, too. I finished the writer's room on my old computer and the next day I got this one. I waited a few days to put it together. I had a birthday - this was my present to myself. A pretty good present. This is the computer bought with my writing money.

I have a hunger I didn't have before. I think for so long I wanted to be a good writer. I started writing in seventh grade and just wanted to be good at something. And I wrote and wrote and wrote. Eventually, that got me places in my life. I wrote in college and I got to grad school, where I was very bad. For a long time, I was the eternal student. Trying to learn how to do it. Then I got good at it. Then it wasn't all that interesting because I was writing in order to get hired. I was in the constant state of proving myself.

Then life stopped and I had a period of several years where I wrote because I had to. My Dad got sick. I wrote when he was sleeping. Writing was survival. Then that period of time was over. I probably took about six weeks off writing after my Dad died. But then it became survival again. I had stopped writing to get on some TV show or something. I wrote because I had to. I wrote because I would die if I didn't.

Then three years ago, I started writing a lot more. I wrote 1000 pages that year, which I thought was a lot. Then the next year I wrote 2000 pages. Around that time, I was so in love with writing that I decided that even if I didn't work professionally, it would be okay. I wrote a play that I knew was good - even if no one thought it was. I knew I had done something. I had accomplished something. And it took a lot out of me. I ignored my relationship in order to write this play. I'm an obsessive person and I learned that year that I was okay with that. I lost a boyfriend, but got something better - a new play. I can say that I made the right choice because we're becoming friends again. But focusing on trying to be the perfect boyfriend took too much energy.

Then last year, I got my first professional writing gig. I started my writers room as I was finishing the play that would become my favorite play I've ever written. Finally, my ability and my heart met up.

So what does this all mean?

I leave this writer's room with renewed confidence I didn't have before. My friend Jen and I had drinks a couple of weeks ago. I walked in to the bar and she looked at me, "What have you been doing to look so sexy and confident?" I told her that I had to wake up at 5 AM every morning so that I could avoid traffic. I got to the gym by 6:15 and started working out. So because I've been working out five days a week for the past six weeks,  I think I look better - and therefore, I'm more confident. But what I didn't mention or realize was that I was better in the room this year. I had gotten over my shyness. I was now a Co-Producer, so a leader in some way.  I had gotten better at pitching ideas in the room. Also, I had spent the three months before the room started teaching - and that boosted my confidence. I'm about to go back to teaching on Thursday - I wonder how I will have changed as a teacher?

I walked into that bar with a swagger because I'm more in my own skin than I have ever been. Yeah, I'm more muscley. But I'm owning who I am. And that feels transcendent. That hasn't really happened to such a degree before.

I'm looking forward to what THAT writer writes next - to what that writer produces. I want to be that writer. That's the goal. To be the writer I'm meant to be. Sounds like an ad for Diane von Furstenberg. As I leave this writers room, I know that I have become a better writer/producer/professor/ professional. I'm better because of these gigs. And each job helps me be better at the next one.

I find that I'm not in such a hurry anymore. I don't know if that's a result of age or experience. But I'm not so worried that I'm not going to get it. I now know that time is a factor. I have to settle into this person in order to see what this person does. Better writing will come as a result of letting this person show himself. Of course, I need to keep the machine moving. I still have to spend every morning at the metaphorical ballet barre, practicing my form and technique. I still have to do my rudiments. I still have to read and research and watch things. But the growth will come just as much out of a result of life progressing while I'm doing all of these things. I guess they work in tandem.

My intention is wonder.
My intention is delight.
My intention is growth.
My intention is progression.

I am grateful for this new MacBook Pro.
I am grateful for the work that went into its purchase.
I am grateful for the money that paid for it.
I am grateful for the future work that will be created on it.
I am grateful for the professionalism I feel because of it.