Thursday, April 22, 2010

A Pirate's Life for Me

Arrrrgh! No, that’s not the sound of 5 year old children pretending to be pirates in a zealous game of “Magic Rocks” in my acting class. That’s the sound of me, once again frustrated with – well, I guess being 24 years old in New York City in this career track I’ve chosen called life.

I woke up on Wednesday January 20th and said “Oh no! It’s 10am! I need to get out of bed!” And Bed said, “No! Stay with me! Why are you rushing – you have nowhere to be.” “Yes I do!,” I defensively retorted, “I have things to do, places to be!” But Bed said, “You teach at 3:30. Stay in bed.” I was a little bit tempted. He was so warm and cuddly lying underneath me. I could stay here – I really don’t have anything to do, and isn’t my peace and happiness the only thing that really matters anyway? But then the drive in me forced me to say, “No! I am an important person and I have important things to do.” To which Bed very snarkily remarked, “You don’t work.” Exhausted with being determined, I caved in this round, “You’re right. I don’t work – that much. And I’m sick of not working. I’m sick of looking for work. I know what I want, and it’s time to get it.” And with one swoop motion, I jumped out of Bed, kissed him good-bye, and danced out of the room, ready to conquer the world.

I’d been afraid to go for it for awhile, afraid it meant giving up on acting, afraid it meant “settling,” afraid it meant “being ordinary.” These fears of mine suddenly washed away, when I realized what I’d actually been afraid of was admitting that I’ve always known this is part of who I am and what I was called to do. When I was 4 years old, I didn’t want to be a dancer – I wanted to be a dance teacher. Every summer I was a theatre camp counselor and wanted to grow up to take over the summer camp. Here in New York, I’ve lately been so focused on teaching artist jobs and so inspired when I talk to other teachers. So my decision is made: it’s time to get my degree in teaching. Now that I’ve admitted this to myself, allowed myself to say it, it’s like the floodgates have opened and clarity and confidence about my future are pouring out.

Although today, I’m arrrrghing like a pirate once again. Because in all this pumping myself up, I had a job interview at a certain late night talk show I used to be a page for, and didn’t get the job, which made me feel, once again, worthless and undetermined and like getting a job is impossible. And my old boss asked me, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” And I threw a fit and yelled “This question is irrelevant in this economy and for 20-somethings – can’t I just see myself as happy doing whatever it is I’m doing? Does it matter WHAT I do, as long as I’m happy? If I answer, I want to be a TV producer, will you see me as driven and give me this job? If I say I want to be an actress, will you see me as following the wrong path and not give me the job? Can’t I just say the truth, which is, in 5 years I just want to be employed doing something enjoyable. But please, I’m begging you, give me a job because I’m bored without one.” To which she would have responded, “Get out of my office” if I had in fact ranted like that. But instead I said, “I want to someday open up my own children’s theatre.” And then I walked out of there thinking, once again, why do I always say that in every interview? And, argh, what am I doing?!

Does anybody know what they are doing? No. In panic mode, I called Mom.

“I just feel like I used to be so driven and hard-working, and lately I’m lacking purpose and stability. Why am I having such a hard time getting a job? I thought I knew what I wanted – but now I just want to be happy.”

“You do have purpose. Every afternoon those kids and parents are counting on you to show up and teach them. Yea, maybe they’re just running around like sharks and monsters, but you are important to them. And it’s not hard to get a job – you’re just limiting your options to something specific in a specific city.”

Mom saves the day once again. From panic attack, to feeling empowered.

Maybe there is no such thing as knowing exactly what you want. Maybe it’s enough to just know that you want to be happy. What is happy anyway?

Happy is seeing the sun sparkle on fresh fallen snow and thinking “that’s pretty.”
Happy is going to improv class and laughing with your friends.
Happy is going home to see your family and eating birthday cake.
Happy is trying a new recipe and not burning it.
Happy is when the most annoying kid in class gives you a hug afterward and says, “I love you Josie,” and you laugh because even though your name’s not Josie, the other part of what he said was true.

Arrggh. Really? That simple?

So…off I go. Setting sail to the high seas of the post-graduation existential crisis ocean. We might find us some treasure, or discover new land, or encounter another pirate ship, or maybe we’ll just get seasick. But when the waves get rocky, looking out at that sunrise on the horizon should be enough to keep us going. A brand new day is straight ahead. And whatever we choose to do with it, will be enough.

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