2012 - a year of transition

This year, I moved. Then I moved again. Then I moved AGAIN!

I won't bore you with the nitty-gritty details but suffice to say that each time I moved, I got closer to what I really wanted. It was probably more expensive than just moving to the perfect place all in one shot, and definitely more work, but it also taught me a powerful lesson about "perfection" and its dangerous friend, perfectionism.

Often when I want to do something perfectly the first time, what ends up happening is I procrastinate, think, plan, obsess, question... and years later, nothing has changed. No forward movement.

Nowadays I'm seeing that the best thing for me to do is take a step. Take an action. Let it be messy. Let it be imperfect. Learn from it. Share it. Once it's out there, I can modify it, improve it, polish it. But until it exists in reality, it's just an idea in my head. And that is not the way to make creative projects move forward.

The moving situation exactly paralleled what was going on in my creative life. As I broke out of each successive safe but uninspired living situation, I also started to express myself, to take risks in my writing and my music. And now I'm halfway through a major personal project! (I'll share more specifics soon, I promise.)

So my advice? Begin. Let it be a mess. Let it be wrong and not as good as you imagined and not as shiny as it appeared in your head. Then polish it, sit with it, turn it around in your hand. Eventually it will become what you imagined and more. And you'll feel amazing.

FOMO - Fear of Missing Out

Last year while I was doing a retreat in Hawaii, one of my fellow participants used the term FOMO - fear of missing out. This really resonated with me. So many times I am trying to do it all, signing up for 27 different activities, saying yes to everything... and then at the end of the year, wondering what I truly accomplished for all my busyness. Finally I have realized that the most important thing is for me to bring my creative ideas and projects to fruition. And that means saying NO to a lot of other things.

So I started unsubscribing from email lists. The hardest one to let go of was actually the entertainment news source "The Wrap." I love being in the know about what is going on in the entertainment industry but I finally realized that getting multiple emails a day about last night's tv ratings, or which star is leaving WME for CAA, or who just got cast in the latest summer blockbuster... was not really serving me. I have always been schooled in the notion that actors should not be clueless about what is going on in the industry, and I agree with that, but as a creative person, I can't be bombarded with constant information about what other people are doing. I need to center myself and focus. What am I bringing into the world?

Recently I read that John Mayer deleted his Twitter account because he realized he was starting to only think of individual lines for songs instead of entire verses. That's a great personal insight. All the meditation and Radical Aliveness/Core Energetics practices I do are to ground myself and deepen my attention. Why throw that away every time I check my email?


It's the Fear of Missing Out that creeps in: I will miss something important! I will look stupid (or clueless, or self-centered, etc.) in a conversation! There will be a screening or event I don't get to attend!



But meanwhile, here I am, writing. I've written 30 songs, some of which will end up on my upcoming album. I've looked at all my feature film scripts and chosen one that I'll be moving forward on later in the year. I've been singing, practicing piano and cello, getting ready for my gigs

So I might be missing out on something, but before I was missing out on myself.

Papa

On June 2, 1994, I flew home from the last day of sophomore year at Exeter. At the airport, my mom told me the devastating news: Papa had died that day.

I knew he was sick. At spring break, I'd learned he had AIDS. But I thought he had years to live. My family didn't want to burden me with his rapid decline in the midst of my high-pressure final exams at prep school, so they didn't tell me how bad things had gotten.

At the time, I resented not having been kept abreast of all the details. Later I realized it was the best way they knew how to love me and protect me. There's no right way to die, and there's no right way to grieve, and there's no right way to deal with the whole process. It's going to hurt, and even the best intentions can't prevent that pain.

Papa's death was the slap in my face that showed me once and for all that we each walk our own path in life. My sister Hannah, two years younger than I, was still living at home when all this happened. Her experience of it was totally different, much more immediate. I, on the other hand, didn't even tell my schoolmates what happened until the end of the following year when we were assigned a personal essay to be read aloud to the whole school.

Sometimes we're so angry at life, but since that's so abstract, we resent those who seem to be taking things away from us. I've heard it so many times from people in grief situations - "I just wish they had told me", "If only things had been different", etc. These are all part of the grief process, but when you boil it down, you've got a loss. And that loss has to be integrated into the rest of life. There's no changing it, no going back in time. That's probably the most tragic part of life - that it only goes forward. And yet that forward-moving is the one constant of life, the one thing we can always count on to heal us, surprise us, delight us.

I am learning to breathe in the present moment. To revel in the now. And yet, I will always miss you, Papa.

Being generous with the Universe

I had an interesting chat with a friend the other day. She was saying, we all want the Universe to be generous with us. But what are we giving to the Universe?

This really got me thinking. I know I have issues receiving, which is why sometimes I work so hard and feel like I'm "getting nowhere." So I am definitely committing to opening up and receiving. (I even joined this things called The Receiving Project and so far I'm loving it. You can join for free by clicking on the link.)

But then today after a great session with my amazing therapist, I felt so light and full of love for the world, that I posted on Facebook offering to do some favors for others. And it is already amazing! I am going to help a friend with her headshots, wrote a review for my friend's business, had a long chat with a good friend who has moved away from LA, spoke with another friend of a friend who is going through a tough time, connected some people with resources that will help them, and funded two projects on Kickstarter and Indiegogo. Phew! It feels great to get away from the selfishness that sometimes creeps into the life of a self-employed self-starter.

Now off to write more lyrics for my album!

Slowing down...

I'm accustomed to doing 27 different things at once. It's a habit I've had for as long as I can remember. Being so busy shields me from having to feel the feelings that inevitably come up about "not having made it yet" or "what have I seen you in?"

But lately I've been slowing down and focusing. Earlier this week I had reservations to hear a panel of speakers at the Screen Actors Guild. Now, I am all for hearing experts speak, and learning from those who have gone ahead of me in my chosen career. But as I contemplated the best use of my time that evening, I realized, that would be "gathering information." And I've already gathered information. A LOT of information. What's important for me right now is to tap into my own wisdom, my own flow. This is the most important aspect of the creative process.

So I stayed home. I read. I spent time with a friend. I breathed the night air on my balcony. And the next day, I felt myself so clearly. Very emotionally available. Ready to write, create, connect.

Slowing down is the new speeding up. :)

Being a Beginner

I have a big show tonight. I've worked hard, prepared, agonized, had fun rehearsing, invited people...and it's almost here!

I've done bigger shows. When I was in New York I did "The Merry Widow" for 2000 people. I was playing Lo-Lo, one of the Grisettes. I loved that show. I remember saying to my friend Sarah in the dressing room between scenes, if we could have toured for 6 months with that show I would have said yes in an instant.

But I was playing a character. (A very fun, fishnets, feathers and garters character!) And now that I'm working on my first original album as a singer, I'm onstage as myself. It's totally different. Different focus, different energy, different intentions. And I've struggled with how to make that transition. Last night I spoke with an amazing fellow singer and intuitive healer, Angela Ai, and she reminded me that I'm a beginner at this. To allow myself to enjoy the process of discovery. Not to have to have it all figured out on the first try. In many ways, that permission to discover, to make mistakes, is my biggest struggle. As a lifelong performer, I've often felt that the most important thing is what other people think and how they perceive what I'm doing. And in that, I've left my own self out of the equation. The point of being an artist is to express what is true inside. And the truth is that my insides still don't have the answers. I must find them by doing.

So tonight I will be a beginner. I will express what I feel through my songs. And I will do it wrong. But I will be myself.

Living in a world without Hannah

Six years ago today at 1:30am, I lost my sister. As she dashed across 14th Street for a taxi, a drunk driver made a left and hit her. Inexplicably, the paramedics wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance, so I got in a cab that followed to the hospital. Despite seeing her body in the street, I never imagined that hours later, I'd hear the worst words in the world: "We did everything we could, but she just didn't make it."

I called everyone I thought would want to be there - her friends, my friends - and many of them came to that hospital and sat with me in her room, trying to say goodbye in some meaningful way. By the time we left the sun was already up.

One of her friends rode home with me and we climbed into bed, stunned, devastated, adrift. Those next few months were a sea of raw emotions spilling out, holding it together as I performed in the biggest show I'd ever done (I'd been cast just a couple days before it happened) then bursting into tears to random strangers at a bar.

I put a lot of energy into dealing with Hannah's death head-on. I had already lost my father years earlier, and never really dealt with that or told anyone about him, and I knew that wasn't going to work. Everything I had believed in suddenly seemed false, naive, ridiculous. Hannah was such a good person and was killed at 25 for no reason. What was left to cling to?

There's the land of the living, the land of the dead, and then there's another reality for someone grieving a loss this intense. For about a year and a half, I lived in another universe, cut off from Hannah and only partially rooted in this world. I did my best to just stay alive when it felt like dying would be easier than feeling this pain.

All along, though, I felt something inside - the desire to finish what I've started here. I am a performer. I live to be onstage. It's what makes me feel alive, and when Hannah was alive, she supported that dream toward becoming a reality. She came to my shows, she gave me her blessing, she held my hand when tears came to my eyes watching the Tony Awards. She just wanted me to be happy (finally) and she understood that being a performer was my destiny. I consistently feel her energy continuing to guide me now - she didn't get to finish her plans on earth, to live the life she had intended, so it's almost an obligation that I do. My path toward what I want is partly a tribute to her, a commitment to living life fully while I have it.

I miss Hannah. A lot. There was a sparkle about the two of us together, a way that I shined brighter because of the subtle differences between us. I feel that gone, and sometimes it's hard for me to sparkle without her. I'm not whole. I don't know whether I ever will be. What I do know is that no matter what the circumstances are, there are always more possibilities if I'm willing to ask and receive. I've felt the depths of hopelessness many times since Hannah died, and when I acknowledged those feelings and allowed them to move through me, every time, I've seen something new on the other side. Life is beautiful, there's no doubt in my mind. I need to keep receiving.

I love you Hannah. I miss you. I am grateful for the time we had together and I wish you were still here.

Behind the Scenes of a Positive Attitude

I am a huge fan of positivity. In a business that can seem random, huge and complicated, it's essential to stay positive and plug away. Often when I first notice an actress in a show or film, I'll look her up on IMDB and see that she's been working in this town for 9-11 YEARS. And that's just credits that are listed on IMDB. She was probably working away for a couple years before that to get her SAG card. So the only way someone is going to stick with something that long is if there's some joy in it.

But how do you get and keep a positive attitude? I've learned a few things.

1. meditate. I meditate in the morning and before I go to bed. When I have time, I'll add an afternoon session. (Lately, that only happens when I'm on vacation!) It's essential to stop everything and just be. This not only helps with positivity but also with creativity!

2. take care of your body. Eat properly. In order to eat properly, leave enough time to shop for groceries and to prepare healthy food. Get enough sleep. Drink water. The reality is, I can't do as many things in a week as my mind would like. I have to accept that and make my whole self a priority as opposed to robbing my body to pay my ego.

3. spend time with friends. Life is not about working and sleeping. Oxytocin is a chemical that is released when we're enjoying a meal with friends, getting a massage, having sex and other enjoyable, connected activities, and it's essential.

4. reframe the situation. On Friday during rush hour, I was on my way to a store. People kept cutting me off on the freeway and I was getting really frustrated. In my mind, I could hear the question coming up - "why is everyone being such a jerk?" I knew that was my cue to reframe the situation. I immediately said out loud, "Why is it so easy to get this important errand done?" Then whenever a little obstacle came up, I just said that to myself. Lo and behold, everyone was so helpful when I got to the store, I was out of there in 20 minutes and zipped home to do some reading before dinner with friends. The whole rest of the evening was so lovely. I really recommend these "LIVING MANTRAS" as taught to me by Dallas Travers. You just ask yourself a positive question, and your subconscious mind does the rest, answering in ways that move you forward happily. Some of my favorites: "Where did all these amazing credits come from?" "When did I start swimming in money?"

5. speak up. If something is bothering you, identify it. If I've started telling a certain story more than once ("so and so did this to me, isn't that messed up?" kind of thing) I know it's time to deal with it head-on. Discuss with the person. It's such a waste of energy to stew in the blame game, and usually just dealing with it directly will instantly make it dissipate.

6. surround yourself with other positive people. In life, on Facebook, on Twitter, even the movies and shows we watch and books we read. They all affect us, so choose those that uplift!