From the documentary Comedian, a word from Jerry Seinfeld…
“Every comedian’s got an excuse… I make no excuses. I just wasn’t good.”
I heard that and for some reason it hit me: I have lived a life of excuses. Every time I have an idea and fail to act on it, I make an excuse. When I perform at less than my best, I make an excuse.
Sometimes you have to have a little grace for yourself, right? If we screw up, we admit it, make no excuses, take a deep breath and move forward.
No excuses.
I have a dream. Actually, I have several. One very interesting dream involves Salma Hayek, Scarlett Johansson, a beach and a bottle of tequila. (We can’t always have what we want.)
But some dreams are pretty damn accessible, if we are willing to shoot for them.
I want to live a life unencumbered by stuff. I want to travel. Most of all, I want to entertain people. That’s just what I enjoy doing. Of course the applause aspect is great. It makes me feel good to have someone come up to me after a show and tell me how good it was or whatever.
But the fun of the performance happens during it, when the audience and I get to play together. We’re together, doing what we do. Creating a community experience which will never be repeated. It’s pretty much awesome.
When I am on stage I am never there for myself. If I fall prey to the idea that I’m only there for myself, I’ll suck. How can you tell if the actor sucks? (I mean besides if he’s Kirk Cameron.)
Here’s how. The audience is unconvinced by his performance. The audience cannot hear him. The audience can hear him, but cannot understand him. The audience is not moved by his performance, to laugh or cry or anything.
It’s all about the audience.
The performance is always, always, always about the audience. At the end of the day, the only relevant question is, what did the audience walk away with?
Someone once said that if you help enough other people get what they want you can have everything you want. I believe this is true.
In fact, I find this to be true in life in general, as well. It can’t be all about me, or I suck at being a person. It has to be about everyone else.
At the end of the day, the only things that matter are these:
That’s it. Everything else is what the well fed do when they’re bored.
Having condensed my entire life assessment into these two questions I can apply them to my work. At the end of the day, did I help? If I didn’t, I need to find something else to do.
Steven Pressfield has a great article up about going for what you want. In short, a child of four or five sees gymnastics for the first time and decides it’s what he wants to do. He has to fight for it, even at that young age.
He winds up winning… well, you’ll see.
Go check out Steven Pressfield‘s article. Then, you might as well check out a lot of his stuff. It’s pretty much awesome.
I wrote a solo show. Click on Born Again Yesterday for the book.
The show is about the journey from fundamentalism to faith. This blog (which you may notice shares the same title) is about the journey of that faith, which happens to be faith in you. Yes, you specifically. No, really.
Aww, you’re blushing. That’s so cute.
Now smile and watch some crazy goodness from my show.
(Important! I’ve lost a LOT of weight since this was shot! Just saying!)
I’m going to look stupid.
They’re going to laugh at me.
I’m not going to do this right.
I’m going to let everyone else down.
Sound familiar?
When I let doubt get in the way of action I accomplish nothing. I wind up avoiding the task at hand. I need to reply to that email, but I doubt their reaction. I want to start my own business, but I doubt my qualifications. I ought to talk to that cute chick over there, but I doubt my conversation skills.
Right?
We take ourselves too seriously, don’t we? It’s all bullshit. We just have to jump in.
Second City founder Del Close used to stand just off of the stage when he was about to perform and, the second before he went on stage, he’d do his trademark “fuck it adjustment.” He’d shake himself, say “fuck it” and walk out onto the stage.
He was the father of American Improv for a reason. He was good. And part of his goodness was this adjustment. To put it another way, one reason he was good was that he developed a way to blow past his doubt and onto the stage. Beyond the doubt, his genius had free rein to run wild.
When we see our doubts before us and we let them get in the way, it kills our momentum, kills our efforts and ultimately kills our dreams. We have to make a decision to go for it, now, right now. There is no such thing as a “better time” to do what you want. There is no such thing as a good reason to wait. Make a decision, jump in, and make whatever happens fit your plan.
Even if you don’t know quite what you’re doing, jump in anyway. Remember: the only thing that’s important is that you tried. That’s more than most people ever do.
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