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Monday Musing, 2/18/19

2/20/2019

Hello Apprentices--

Three cookies for you this muggy February Monday.

First, one of my favorite quotes, from noted novelist and theologian Frederick Buechner (to whom I once wrote a fan letter, and he wrote back!!)…

“Doubt is the ants in the pants of faith.”

Likewise, cookie 2, from Robert Hughes, presses home this idea that unimpeachable knowledge is in any way something to be pursued.

As soon as something is SET, as soon as any idea becomes entrenched, as soon as doubt becomes the enemy… stagnation begins to creep.

If your faith, or your art, or your politics, are intractable, are unable to be challenged, are unable to be questioned… what does that actually say about said faith, or art, or belief? It says, that on a deep level where most of us don’t like to visit, we don’t trust that the truth can hold up to scrutiny. Which begs the question… is that truth truly true?

Stagnation leads to rot. In rehearsal. In performance. In relationships. In beliefs.

DOUBT… lets in air. Allows water and sun to filter. Creates room for growth and discovery of newer/better/deeper truths. The ants in the pants metaphor is so hilariously simple and apt. Ya gotta keep moving, keep jiving, keep looking for ways to encounter each doubt, so that your belief and your art can be stronger, more supple, more earned, more vital.

Perfect confidence ends up shackling you, so that you can reach no further, and move no further forward Which brings us to cookie 3.

Doubt need not be debilitating. Doubt is not “paralysis by analysis.” Doubt is actually the rich soil from which blooms your courage, because moving forward—even if you aren’t entirely sure of how you’re going to get there (which is basically a description of every rehearsal process)—is all that is ultimately required of the artist. Not genius. Not brilliant insight. Just moving the body of work forward, in spite of your doubt.

Move forward this week.

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Monday Musing, 2/11/19

2/13/2019

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Hello Apprentices--

Three cookies this week, all of which orbit the idea of making mistakes, or failing.

The principle here—that you learn far more from “failures” than from success if only you allow yourself to—can be applied to your work, your life, your art.

What is rehearsal other than a series of mistakes and failures that are in fact discoveries, as Mr. Edison states? A process of elimination—or perhaps more elegant to think of it as a process of refinement—that results in finding a way that works. And note that “a way that works” in no way necessarily means your process is done. The first way that works can almost always be improved upon. Consider Edison’s light bulb… now we have smart stage lights that can do all sorts of instantaneously magical things. Or his phonograph… connect the dots to your iPod.

Ms. Angelou says the same thing more succinctly, as is her way. What I especially appreciate about her phrasing here is the implicit grace underlying the exhortation. Once again, your process will never be done. You can keep learning more, keep improving, keep refining. You can maintain your humility and humanity even as you achieve expertise. And even more importantly, to my mind, is to offer that grace to those around you, to understand that they too are in process.

Dr. Unknown dives even deeper into this idea of humility, because ego will often whisper to you to hold on to that mistake, to not change your mind, to not admit your failings. It’s classic poker mentality, throwing good money in after bad, refusing to fold (fail?) just because you’ve already invested so much capital. That is faulty not just intellectually but emotionally. Come back to your theatrical art… it is an ever on-going exercise in RELEASING… releasing the choice in rehearsal that isn’t effective; releasing that awesome choice from rehearsal that proves itself actually ineffective once in front of an audience; releasing the entirety of the performance each night; releasing all of the work once closing rolls around. Clinging keeps you static, makes it impossible for you to REACH… to continue your PROCESS. Consider the various applications… releasing allows you to forgive; to receive; to climb; to lift someone else up.

Have a refined week.

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Monday Musing, 2/4/19

2/5/2019

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Hello Apprentices--

Since I know you’ve all thought of nothing else all week except how I did on that half-marathon I talked about in last week’s musing, allow me to give you the official result…

My goal was two hours.

The Author's dad, the Author, and the Author's amazing girlfriend enjoying a post-run sit and shiny bling.

My official race time was two hours… and two-tenths of one second.

Two-dang-tenths of one second.

That’s not even a STEP.

But I tell you what… it was awesome.

Other fun facts… the course was actually about two-tenths of a mile SHORT. Numerology!! Which means I actually would have come in at more like 2:01:30.

I needed to average 9:10 per mile to hit my two hour goal. The official results say I averaged 9:11 per mile. My super cool Garmin GPS watch told me my average was 9:18 per mile. Cuz of those missing two-tenths of a mile.

What’s the truth?

And since I finished the race with no injuries and with new personal bests in both time and distance, and my girlfriend finished and shared victory beers with me, and my dad finished and shared victory bacon with me, and my good buddy finished and shared victory selfies with me… does that mean that those two-tenths of a second (or that minute and a half, WHATEVER) necessarily DEFINE my race?

Absolutely not.

Check out that Picasso quote. Around mile 11, when laying down in the middle of Tamiami Trail started to seem like a really really good idea, I started chanting in my head: “Every step… is a new best… Every step… is a new best…” Because that was the truth. Every step meant I had run longer without stopping/walking/resting than I had ever run before in my life. Like I said last week—the legs were fine, but wow oh wow did my head keep telling me to just pull up for a sec. Just a sec. Just TWO-TENTHS OF A SEC. grrrrrr.

Second cookie… did any miracles happen when I refused to give in to my head? When I thought to myself “hey! Just finish under two hours and you’ll NEVER HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN!” Did I suddenly snap through a wormhole in spacetime to the finish line?

Nope.

So. Re-define “miracle.” My dad’s in his 60s. He completed his first half-marathon last year. His second one this year. Is already signed up for his third one next year.

And you better believe I’ll come in under two hours next year. Like, there is zero doubt. Not doubting that goal? Miracle.

This week… do something you know you can’t do. Just try it. Doesn’t have to be huge to have a huge impact on you.

While you do that new thing this week, I’ll be hanging up my medal. So that it hangs two-tenths of an inch off the wall.

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The serious theatre artist hard at work, trying to please his caffeinated canine copy editor...

Author

Theatre pro, amateur yogi, and competent home cook.

Adoring boyfriend to Marvel Universe-loving girlfriend.

Runner of half-marathons and daddy to awesome silly Rottweiler.

Lifelong St. Louis Cardinals fan and addicted to the Gulf Coast sand, surf, salt, and sunsets (see above!).

Open to clarification, correction, and commentary. Ideologues discouraged.

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