Shortcuts
Every week day, my son and I make the three-quarter mile hike to his afternoon Kindergarten classroom. The way our house is situated, we can either walk “through the neighborhood” or take a “short cut” out the back yard, thereby saving about a quarter mile on the journey.
Since I make this round trip twice a day, sometimes it’s nice to take the short cut. Especially if my son wants to ride his scooter, in which case I have to nearly run to keep up (and I’m not a runner, in case you were wondering).
But when the weather’s nice, or when my son is feeling ambitious, we take the long way.
And it makes all the difference.
Read MorePresence: The Stage
In the middle of the stage, house lights up, the din of the audience has waned.
I’m standing here, breathing in the final moments of the show.
Recalling the highlights, the laughter, the flubs, and the tender moments.
Reliving the looks on my actors’ faces at Intermission as I shared audience responses, technical issues, and notes regarding their projection, tone, and enunciation.
Bittersweetness washes over me, as the sounds in the room change: hammers pounding pins into flats, men hoisting the bar off the stage and back onto the floor. Brooms sweeping the floor, costumes being piled on the table, set pieces being returned to their homes in storage… and the chatter of the cast and crew as we wrap up, pack up, and clear away any trace of the production.
Strike always gets me.
It’s the completion of the circle of life of a show. We begin mostly as strangers, with a bare stage. We rehearse, almost in secret, in an upper room of the theater. It isn’t until the bulk of the set is present that we take to the stage and begin the process of bringing vitality to these two dimensional characters.
Then the lights, sound and music emerge, creating new challenges, adding new dimensions to the tapestry.
And the curtain goes up on opening night… and the friends I’ve come to know disappear as they slip deeper and deeper into their characters, becoming those people for a fortnight. Then, as quickly as they stepped into those roles, they’re stepping out again, pulling down set dressing, saying our goodbyes one last time.
It’s in this moment that I see the show’s “life” flash before my eyes – much like the flash of the camera as the show’s highlights are snapped off one after another by the photographer. I’m reminded that everything comes to an end – and in that ending, an opening is created for a new beginning.
But tonight, I enjoy the company of my cast and crew, our producer and managing partner. We celebrate a great review, the kinship of this rag tag bunch of actors, and relive some of the humorous moments of the show.
It will be a bit sad to head home tonight, and I know I’ll probably mourn this show a little. But right now, I’m just enjoying this moment, soaking in these wonderful people, this wonderful place, and all the memories we’ve created for ourselves and our audience.
We’ve touched people and changed lives. That’s something of which we can be proud.
I’m already thinking about what my next project will be, and how to make it happen faster, so I’m not living in the limbo. But for now, tonight, I’m here. Enjoying, drinking it all in, until the next circle begins.
Read MoreMy Way is the Hard Way
Last night, I discovered my super power.
Right now I feel like The Greatest American Hero – you know the guy that got the suit, then shrunk/lost the instruction manual? He was capable of all these great things – saving humanity and whatnot, but he was awkward, clumsy, and didn’t always get it right.
That’s me today.
Now I just want to figure the dang thing out.
The time with the folks in Atlanta has been challenging, excruciating, and HARD, but in a good way. Then Sarah Robinson sprang her new Studio program on us, and I got mad.
Piping hot, tongue of fire, venom-spitting, smoke from ears hot. I guess a few other people were surprised, too, from what I could gather. But I wanted to be respectful, keep my mouth shut, and most importantly, learn.
Because I was mad not just because she sprang this program on us, but because she did it so well.
I didn’t see it coming at all.
She crafted a program that was so deep, transformative and fluid, you never made the connection that there was an upsell coming.
And she never presented it like an upsell. It was incredibly respectful, and for that, I thank her.
But I was still pissed. Did I mention I left my checkbook at home on PURPOSE!?!?
So I took her brilliantly crafted application/”coaching document” and went to my room at the end of the night, wrestling with all the “OMG, I’ve just been a victim of upselling!” as I took a long bath to sort stuff through.
I couldn’t clear the noise in my head for a LONG time. Even my standard “SHUT UP!” wasn’t working. I kept trying to connect dots, piece the puzzle, figure out my target market, and clear all the “fuzz” from my head. That’s what Sarah promised at this event, after all.
And I sat there trying to figure out what this stupid “application” meant for me.
To be frank, I don’t like the idea of shelling out thousands of dollars for coaching. Part of me thinks it’s incredibly stupid. Afterall, there are plenty of other things (like, oh, pay the bills?) I could be doing instead. And in light of my recent event cancellation, there’s just not enough cash in the bank to go around.
And I heard my Mom’s voice saying “You can’t afford it. It can’t be done. You can’t pull it off.”
That only got me madder.
Then my Dad’s voice “Kid, don’t take crap from anyone.”
Then a melange of voices from child hood:
“Hard headed.”
“Stubborn.”
“Why do you always do things the hard way?”
The hard way… that phrase has come up a lot for me in recent months. I do a lot of things the hard way. I don’t always listen to other people – sometimes I don’t even hear them. Sometimes I outright ignore them (you know who you are, and I’m SO sorry)!
And as I did the whole “life in retrospective” thing, it became very clear to me that I am a master at doing the impossible.
Well, the seemingly impossible. Because nothing’s really impossible, if we’re willing to keep trying to find a way, and maybe be creative in doing it.
My clients have heard me talk about Yoda and Edison. Yoda said “Try? There is no try? Do or Do Not.” Edison TRIED nearly 1000 times to find an electric bulb that worked.
Churchill said “Never give up. Never. Never. Never.”
That’s me. The chick banging her head against the wall in various places along the wall trying to find the weak spot. The frog in the vat of cream that keeps kicking until eventually the cream becomes butter.
The hard way.
In that revelation, I found my super hero gift:
I inspire struggling leaders to achieve the impossible.
I don’t know how it works. I just know it works. I’ve yet to find that freakin’ manual.
Until I find it, I’m going to keep testing this new suit out. And I want to help you achieve the impossible, too.
What’s that one insurmountable thing?
Cash flow? Family support? Time constraints?
You have to be willing to let go of what you THINK you know, and be willing to get creative to find the answer. Because the answer isn’t in what you think you already know. Sometimes, you have to be willing to get creative to do the impossible.
Sometimes, you have to do it the hard way.
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Edutainer. Results-getter. Performer. I'm expressive, results-oriented, and a connoisseur of ideas. When creative people are ready to stop making excuses and make something happen, they call me. Sometimes I talk to God. Sometimes God talks back. Sometimes I talk back. I'm building an ark here. Wanna ride? Be sure to say hi, leave a comment and get involved. That's how I roll. 