I Am Ali Macgraw

Am I comparing myself to a 76 year-old former celebrity actress and ex-wife to Steve Macqueen and Bob Evans? Yes. Here are the ways we are similar: she lives a quiet spiritual life and has her hair up in a bun, looking more earth mother than glamazon. And that probably describes me in a lot of ways.

I was just watching a re-run of Super Soul Sunday from last year with Ali Macgraw. As I was watching the episode, I listened to her answers to Oprah's questions. I had watched this episode when it first aired a year ago. And I was surprised that much of what Ali was saying to Oprah reflected where my life was now. Maybe I had watched this interview and internalized some things. Maybe Ali Macgraw is a spiritual teacher to me. But as I watched this woman, full of humility and entirely human and flawed, talk about the things she knew and how she lives I thought that I must have paid attention to her last year.

Gratitude. She speaks constantly about being grateful for her life. Throughout the episode, she talks about being grateful for the simplest of things. I have focused a lot on gratitude in the past year or so and have used this blog as a way to express my gratitude. Gratitude has made me a calmer, more centered and less competitive with everyone around me.

Saying No. She talks about how she has stopped telling lies and just speaking her mind. When asked if she wanted to attend some fancy soiree by an acquaintance, she said "No." Not "No, thank you." No need to be polite or to make up an excuse. Just a straight up no. I love how honest that is. And I have that attitude about a lot of things these days. I say "No" a lot. And my boyfriend does a double take. Like saying no was somehow equivalent to saying "Fuck You." And it's not a "No" that's rude or a call to arms or an attack. It's just a choice, a very succinct choice.

The atmosphere of comparison. She talks about leaving LA for Santa Fe to remove herself from the pressures of the constant measuring stick mentality in LA. It's a constant "what are you doing?", "What are you up to?"situation.  The constant need to prove that you're important or are doing something that proves your worth. I can relate to this. I almost moved out of LA recently because I was feeling a pull toward somewhere calmer and more genuine. But bullshit can find you anywhere. And for me, staying in LA is about my community. I can choose the values I am willing to stand by and the people who share those values. It's not just about escape. It's about standing for what you believe in.

She talks a lot about kindness as a spiritual practice. She speaks very humbly and seems uncomfortable with the idea that she's got answers. She just lives as an example and is a woman moving through the world with awareness. That's why the lessons hit so deep because they weren't coming from a guru, just a person who lives with her eyes open and has taken time to reflect. The shock of watching the episode again was really about realizing that a lot of what she said spoke to me even deeper than it did a year ago when I probably just watched the episode out of curiosity for what she would say about Hollywood in the 70s. But today as I watched it again, I felt a lot of my beliefs were reinforced. Also, more than any other Super Soul Sunday I've rewatched, I felt like it was a marker of my own spiritual growth in the past year. That just proves that you can't be snobby about where the lessons come from. They come from everywhere.

I am grateful for reflection.
I am grateful for a weekend of quiet.
I am grateful for friendship.
I am grateful for nourishment.
I am grateful for salad.
I am grateful for Mexican food.
I am grateful for exercise.

Gratitude: Day 8

I'm on Day 8 of the Oprah/Deepak 21 Day Meditation Experience on Gratitude. Something about how being thankful improves your health. I'm down for that. Not to get all preachy or all new agey about it, but I do believe that gratitude has improved my outlook on life. I even end each of my blog posts with at least three things to be thankful for. And I try not to think about it too much. I try to just think of whatever comes to my mind the quickest.

And I've discovered that when I focus on things I'm thankful for, I think less about what I don't have. I think less about the money I don't have or the prestige or power or influence I don't have. I think about the money, prestige and power and influence that I DO have. I don't feel like comparing myself to other people because I am thankful for things in my life. I'm a lot calmer because I don't have the anxiety that comes when you compare yourself to others. I don't walk around feeling like a loser.

Gratitude. It's pure and simple.

And when I don't have the anxiety that I used to carry then I realize that I have time to do other things. Like…write. I have more time to do the things I'm supposed to do and I don't feel rushed or worried. And because I'm actually writing, the satisfaction of writing becomes my reward. I complain less. Then I do more. And when I do more, I have less to complain about. It's the opposite of a vicious circle. It's a victorious circle. I feel like a success.

Lately, I have felt like sleeping a lot more. I feel like relaxing more. And that's not making me lazy. It's not making me want to do NOTHING but sleep, but I need to rest. Then I have energy that lasts me all day along. I'm also enjoying quiet time a lot more. Am I getting old? Or am I becoming more enlightened. Or both?

I find myself not needing as much outward stimulation. I really like chilling out at home, reading a book or working on something quietly. I love cooking - but I've always loved cooking. I think I appreciate things that are quieter these days in ways I haven't before. I'm grateful for the quiet. And again, we're back to gratitude. And my gratitude makes me appreciate things that are simpler.

I am grateful for quiet.
I am grateful for good conversations.
I am grateful for rest.
I am grateful for my meditation practice.
I am grateful for knowledge.
I am grateful for pozole.
I am grateful for ideas.s
I am grateful for the grace of good people in my life.

I Know What I Want

I consider myself a collaborator.

I like to think of myself as someone who likes to bounce around ideas and as someone who is open to feedback.

But I also like to think of myself as someone who knows what he wants and stands up for his work. That's a difficult balance, however. I'm also super worried about hurting people's feelings and stepping on toes. I'm worried about coming off as a complete dick.

And it seems that I've always been worried about this. When I was in college, I had a playwriting professor, who's the nicest person on the planet, give me great advice. I was worried that I was coming off as too controlling, which at 22 meant that I was. But what he said to me was, "Eric, no one cares about how the work gets done as long as it gets done. If the result is good, no one's going to care how you got there." And that always has stuck with me. Even though I still worry about it.

I am working on a project right now and I had to take care of my own voice. I had to "quiet down" and get rid of some of the "noise" I was hearing about what people thought I should do. And the end result was a truer version of what I wanted than if I had listened to everyone else. And I stuck to it. I also knew that we were in a part of the process that if I was wrong I could turn back. But I trusted my own voice. I validated myself instead of looking around the room for people to tell me my ideas were okay.

So now, we're at the next draft of this project. And I got some notes from folks. But I decided to take on the next part of this process alone. Because I have such clarity on what I want this project to be. I love hearing ideas that excite me and inspire me. But if it's not serving what I'm writing, then it's not helpful. It has taken me a long time to get to that place of being polite, yet firm.

Not that there still isn't much to discover. But the discovery has to keep us moving in the right direction.

I am grateful for my voice.

I am grateful for inspiration.

I am grateful for sunshine.

I am grateful for spin class.

Quieting Down

Quiet time helps. Me.

It doesn't help everyone. But a few years ago, I just started cleansing sound out from various activities and I have to say that it has made me a calmer person.

There are all of these self-help reference to "noise." Get rid of the noise in your life. Food noise. Money noise. Body noise. The internal, self-hating dialogue that keeps playing over and over again in your head. And I'm actually just stalking about literal sound. Just get quiet.

Now, you could say, that if you got rid of certain sounds, then you wouldn't be hearing all of that "noise" in the self-help sense. That is true.

But I started getting rid of the radio sound in my car. Turning on the radio in my car was like turning on auto pilot. I would just tune out of my own head and tune into the routine of my life. I don't remember why or how I decided to drive without the radio on. Maybe it was because my radio was broken. Maybe it was because I needed a moment to calm. And I don't even remember if it was to drive to the grocery store or to drive from LA to San Jose. But eventually, I would make those five to six hour drives in my car in complete silence.

For me, stillness was the gateway drug to meditation. I was so afraid to try meditation. Afraid that I wouldn't do it right. Afraid that I would get bored. Afraid that I would fail at meditating. So I didn't do it. For a year, I contemplated meditating. I would sit in my bed for an extra 10-20 minutes a day just quietly. I was warming up to the idea of meditation, which scared me. But the silent drives were the gateway to those quieter mornings.

I always remember loving early mornings and late nights. Because of that stillness. My mind was drawn to that quiet. Always.

Recently, I had to go out of town for a job interview. I am a very social person. I love talking to people. I love sharing stories and laughing. But I have noticed that I now like to build some quiet time in there. I had a breakfast interview for two hours. Then a lunch interview for two hours. Then a break for two hours. I went back to my hotel room, took all of my clothes off, changed into a tank top and shorts and walked around the city. Then I put my interview clothes back on and finished out the day.

Even when I'm out with friends, doing something social. I like to just fall into the background and be quiet and let everyone else talk. I don't even know if my friends notice because when I'm loud and social, you can really hear me.

But I need that silence. And now that I do meditate, it just perpetuates that need to be centered. Pico Iyer, in his recent book The Art of Stillness talks about finding stillness everywhere. On an airplane traveling. Or in the shower. There's a debate about stillness versus meditation. Or being quiet versus meditating. I do think it's all the same. I don't always formally meditate and make time for 20 minutes at both ends of my day for it. But I do spend a lot of time not talking. Maybe I need that because I'm a writer and creating takes up a lot of energy. I'm not sure. But I know I have been making a move lately just be more silent. And to sleep more. I realize that I'm able to get a lot done in a short amount of time. So that just leaves me more time for not doing things. I'm learning to feel less guilty about that.

I am grateful for time.
I am grateful for four years with one man.
I am grateful for unexpected adventures.
I am grateful for time with my family.

Spin (and Win)

About two and a half weeks ago, I took a spin class with two of my closest friends. I thought I would be fine. I ran a marathon. Eight years ago. I go to the gym. I was there three times last month. And I'm gay. So I figured that spinning would be my thing. Boy, was it not my thing. At least that day and in the week that followed. A famous playwright was teaching this spin class. So I figured, "How hard can it possibly be?" We're not known for our physicality and our stamina. I write three lines and I'm ready for a nap. Or a chocolate. Or a blow job. The point is that I'm ready for a reward after doing barely any work.

But the music came on. It felt like Sheila had the "Now, That's What I Call Music 400" compilation on speed dial. I heard the LMFAO. I probably heard some Lady Gaga or something else clubby. At first, it was fine. Just pedaling. I thought I had it in the bag. Then we had to get up and pedal upright. What the fuck? That was just unfair torture. After the first 10 minutes of class, I thought I was going to throw in the towel. I couldn't believe how quickly spin class was kicking my ass. I didn't understand the rhythm of the standing cycle. It's not pedaling. It's more like dance, where you shift your weight and you move to the rhythm. I was about to walk about for the second ten minutes of class. We were in the front. I wasn't sure how I was going to explain it to Sheila or David or Cory. I was ashamed of myself. I was doing so poorly. I looked in the mirror at the folks behind me. They were sweating, but they were pumping hard. I hated them. I felt like they were judging me.

The class was in Silverlake. I had worn my heather grey "Mustangs" t-shirt ironically and I was sporting a man bun and wood. The man bun was giving me major wood! I was hipsteriffic (or hips terrific - as my autocorrect was just trying to tell me). In the land of hipsters, I should have had this by the shaved balls. But I did not. Spin had ME by the shaved balls and the trimmed pubes. Oh, it had me with the viciest vice grip ever. But then something happened…

Half way through I got the rhythm.  Rhythm isa dancer and my dance training got me through the rest of the class. As did my marathon training. When you're running a marathon and pushing your body to the max, you don't stop. You keep going. Even if at Mile 8 you realize you made a big mistake three weeks earlier when you ran your last big training fun (20 miles) about one hour faster than you should have. So I kept going. I kept going and pumping and I was looking so good with my glistening sweat and my man bud, which did NOT come undone. I got off the bike at the end of class, almost lost my footing because my legs were Jello. But it didn't matter. I had finished. And I lived to tell the tale.

Until two days later when my legs were so stiff that I couldn't move for three more days. It was bad. But my stamina training taught me to keep going: mind over matter. But mind over matter's only good until they have to amputate your legs.

But I kept going. I moved around gently. But I still moved around. An entire week of writing was shot because I couldn't get into a comfortable enough place. I couldn't sit down. I couldn't stand. I couldn't lie down. I couldn't be on my back or on my side. It was horrible. But I learned something. I learned that I could focus and push beyond all obstacles. And yes, there would be pain later. But I'm not afraid of pain.

Today, I got back on a bike. Immediately after class--and even during my leg crisis--I felt like I had found another thing I love like running. Despite the pain, I knew I'd be back on a bike shortly. I fucking loved it. I do love to suffer, it's true. But I love how it made me feel. I loved how sweaty I got. And I love how I was able to stay in one place and just focus on what's directly in front of me.

I'm not going to stop for pain and discomfort. I'm not going to stop because I'm tired. I'm going to keep going. And then I'm going to have to spend time in recovery because I pushed myself too hard. But by pushing myself too hard, I release my toxins and I exorcise my demons. After the spin incident, I could feel my body getting rid of toxins. Not to get gross, but my urine was darker. I had stuff I had to flush out. It was a cleanse. And when I write at a certain pace, it is a cleansing experience as well.

Sheila's spin class reminded me that writing is surpassing one's limits…and then recovering. You have to do both or you won't be able to do it all over again and get better and stronger over time.

I am grateful for physical lessons that become intellectual ones.
I am grateful for my leg strength.
I am grateful for my stamina.
I am grateful for great fun.

Which Way Do I Go?

I've had the great fortune of being able to develop a new play this year with a theatre company out here called Moving Arts. I starting month four of what will amount to being an eight month process. I wrote a big new play. Then I wrote a few more drafts of the big new play and had a second reading of it last month. Now I'm gearing up for a public reading of it at the end of May. That will launch me into another series of rewrites.  Then I will have a workshop in August and rehearsals that are gearing up for   a big public reading at the end of September.

So I'm at the half way point and I'm at a turning point in the script. I have two schools of thought about which direction the play should go in. I've got a few people telling me there's a more traditional play in there that's waiting to come out. And then there's my instinct, which wants something a little more free form. After the reading in April, many good things came through. But the play felt a bit unfocused and largely that was by design. I've proclaimed that I wanted to do a Robert Altman-esque version of this play. Some thought that I was just experimenting in free form so I could write something that had a more classic story arc. I knew that I was never doing that. So I resisted notes that put me anywhere near anything classic or traditional.

Then two of my closest writing friends had some comments that leaned towards a traditional approach. Although they did have suggestions on how to do the more experimental version of the script. And I think that's what shook me to my core. I expected them to be more fully gung ho about the crazy version I was writing. So I took lots of notes and looked at what people were saying and what people were responding to.

So I had pressure from one end to do something that was a bit smaller. But that pressure had been there since before I had written one word. I think that's why it was so easy to dismiss. But having two of my most trusted confidantes way similar things really put a wrench in my plans. Then my friend David and I chatted about what this play could be. I was starting to learn towards this "smaller" version. But something just wouldn't let go of the "bigger version" of the play. So basically I have been sitting on it and thinking a lot. I haven't done any work on the play in two weeks.

Today, I decided that I would look at the script and see what came out of me. I started journalling about the play and then some ideas started falling out. I also looked at the script and what I had. I started thinking about the play's focus and the idea of "who's play is it?" I realized that I had two things fighting against each other: the students stories and the stories of the two faculty members. I had these two faculty members whose lives were being affected by their participation in the drills. And then I had parallels with the students. It became hard to know where to focus. As I was writing, it became clear to me that this play is the students' story. I might have all four students or I might have two or three. And I know that I want to focus on one character in particular. Since my first reading, Kramer's story seemed to leap out and grab people. Then I have the story of another guy named Wynn. He's an African American kid, decisively.  I thought he might be Latino at one point. I think he needs to be black for reasons that really resonate in the wake of Ferguson and what's happening right now in Baltimore. And I've got two other characters who I haven't written as strongly: the two female high school students. But I realized why that was. I had two strong female teacher characters who were taking their place. And those four female characters were fighting against each other. As I was writing down notes in my journal, things became clear to me.

I wasn't choosing any more between the smaller more "produceable version" of this script and the more "experimental, non produceable" version. I was choosing for story, which is something I should always be doing. I think this version of the story will focus on the lives of the students more distinctly and less on the lives of the administrators.  I can't say what form that will take in terms of structure. But I have an idea about how time passes in the play. And I have a specific idea about number of characters and how "big" this play will get. I think there's still a feeling of ensemble. I'm excited about working on it again in a way I haven't been excited since the last reading.

It's just interesting that given all of the resources I have with this theatre that the conversation quickly became about produceability.  And that has not been a concern of mine. I always said that I wasn't going to write a small version of this that's four characters. And then I started getting feedback that wanted to turn it into that. And frankly, it was making me confused, frustrated and angry. So I had to step away from that conversation.

I'm about to go into "hermit mode" and get into the "writer's cave" (two expressions I hate). But I am sequestering myself over the next month. Funny, but this is exactly where I was last May. I won't be going away but I think I will be allowing myself time to be alone. I think I will need this time alone away from everything. I have two big things to write this month. This is different from last year, where I tried to do three things and I was just fatigued and couldn't do it. Two will be enough. More than that is just crazy making.

I'm going to allow myself the time to work on the play, which is the priority. The other script will be fine. I can get that done easily. I know what that is already and it's outlined. I can get that done in a week. That hopefully will feel like a breeze.

I feel full of hope again. Funny how that's fleeting sometimes.

I am grateful for writing sessions at the Weho Library.
I am grateful for the advice of smart people.
I am grateful for my champions.
I am grateful for music.
I am grateful for the love of friends.
I am grateful for support.
I am grateful for my community.

Mayday

Another crazy May is in store for me.

Last year, I had three scripts to finish in May. I finished two.

This year…I'm possibly going for another three. Let's see how that pans out. I got out of town last year to get my shit done. That was really fun. I don't have the resources to do that this year, but that's okay. I can learn from the lessons of last year and get my shit together.

I have to figure out this rewrite of the play by May 31st.

I have to write a spec script of Looking for the studio fellowship applications. I've got NBC, WB, and ABC to send stuff off to.

And I would like to at least outline the new reimagining of my pilot. I at least know what the story is.

The funny thing about this week is that I figured out the Looking script, I figured out the new pilot story and I started a new play. The new play will have to wait. I think. Well, nothing ever happens in the order I think it will.

But I do want to give the TV stuff a shot, so I need to write that spec. It's a shorter spec than last year, so I am going to try to do it in two weeks or less. I have no choice but to work on those two things at the same time since they are both due at the same time. Get that in and out of the way.

The good thing is that I have a lot of ideas. The bad thing is that I need to focus. I will have to spend a lot of time trying to make time to get everything done. The important thing is to get my sleep and to focus, focus, focus.

I'm going to cut the play this weekend. Then write the first draft of the spec script next week. Then I'm going to work on the play the following week. Then I'm going to finish up the spec with another draft. Then I'm going to keep working on the play until May 31st. With the spec, I want to get everything in early as possible.

I did it last year. I got the pilot in for Sundance and I finished a proper draft of my play by the 18th of May. Then I took a month to work on the spec House of Cards I wrote. Last year, I wrote something to prove that I could write it. I wasn't focused on getting into these programs. This year, I'm writing about things that speak to my heart and soul. I want this to be a tight script and get me work.

I am grateful for so many things to work on.
I am grateful for the help of old friends.
I am grateful for happy times.
I am grateful for work.
I am grateful for a community of like-minded friends and artists.