Do Not Disturb

I had a phone interview for a teaching job this morning and had to get up early.  Went well.  I think I said everything I wanted to say.  Was going to crawl back into bed with the boyfriend, but when I looked in I saw he was snoring.  He can be sensitive to sound and noise, so I didn't want to disturb him.  Instead I took a shower.  I have been on the internet, reading things.  He looked so peaceful with the pillow over his face and a slight snore coming out of his nostrils.  

He's cute.

That's all.

Go Deeper

I realized why I have been having such a hard time working on this rewrite.

I need to go deeper.

I plotted out the story of this new draft.  And while all of those things need to happen and all of those scenes move the action forward, I can't write to the story.

I have to know where they need to go, but I need to let them go there.  I have to LET THEM GO.  That phrase keeps repeating in my life.  Just let it go.

I have to not use any of the previous stuff I had before, even though a part of me loves some of that dialogue and it would be easier.  But I'm not the person I was when I sat down to write the play over a year ago.  My relationship is deeper.  The questions I'm asking are deeper.  I need to be more honest.

All of these life events happen that seem ordinary, but what happens to these particular people...

I had a conversation with someone today at the spa.  He was saying that he loves songs from the American Songbook.  He said that those songs can be sung over and over again the same way, but they don't mean anything unless you bring something to them.  You have to interpret them.

Things happen to these characters that have happened to people over the past several centuries over and over again.  People meet.  They marry.  They want to have kids.  They argue about their sex lives.  They break up.  They stay together.  None of that is new.  But the interpretation makes it fresh.  What these individuals bring to these universal rites of passage is what makes it seem fresh.

So while I didn't get a ton of writing done...I attempted.  And that's when I realized it didn't work.  But I accomplished something significant.  In this conversation, I had this epiphany.  The American Songbook still moves us because it's so universal.  But those songs continue to touch us because they are interpreted through our experiences, our contemporary time and our emotions.  That's what makes a great version of a song we've heard before like At Last, The Very Thought of You, Night and Day and the list goes on and on.

Sometimes the Universe speaks to us in ways that are unexpected.  It's the "God works in mysterious ways" concept.  I was having a feeling I needed a day away to just write and hole up.  I ran into this guy, Marc, who I had met the last time I was here.  Randomly.  We chatted up and had this conversation about the American Songbook.  We were talking about songs and he mentioned The Very Thought of You, which is the song I was thinking about.  Weird.  And I got the gift of having this epiphany and realization through this conversation.  So that was meant to be.

I like being available to what the Universe is trying to tell me.  You have to quiet things down in order to hear what you're meant to know.

Go Deeper.

Don't Feel Like Writing

I'm here at the Wii spa and taking a day to be quiet and to write.  I even brought my computer and I've attempted to do some writing here and there.  But I'm stalling out.

I have this play to rewrite, so I thought that taking a day by myself would help stimulate the creative juices.  I've been here for three hours.  I've eaten.  I've steamed.  I've saunaed.  I've showered.  I've slept.  I've interneted.  But no real writing so far.

The good thing is that I can be here as long as I want to.  At least until 4 AM.  So we'll see how things progress.  I doubt I'll be here that whole time, but who knows?  I'll provide updates.

The Mountain

The Drummer took me on a hike last week.  My quads are still in pain.

He has been going on this hike in Burbank that's mostly incline.  Apparently, you climb 2700 feet during the course of the hike.  It sounded all right.  I am in decent shape.  Well, I haven't been to the gym much lately.  But I'm not fat.  I ran a marathon!  Okay, that was five years ago.  But still!

So we drive up to the park where we need to start the hike.  He keeps pointing out how high up we have to climb.  I feel like I might kill him.

We start the hike.  It's tough, but fine.  We go higher and higher.  I'm happy whenever there's a place where the road levels off.  There aren't that many.  Then we reach a place where there are a lot of switchbacks.  I have to take several breaks.  On each one, The Drummer has to point out how far we've come.  I don't want to look behind me.  I want to look in front of me.  I take my break and continue forward.  The breaks become more frequent.  I don't know if I can do it.  If it's this steep coming up, I can only imagine how it's going to feel going down with gravity pulling me forward.  I try not to think about it too much.  But then, as it gets more painful.  And I blurt out:

"I am not very happy right now!"

The boyfriend thinks this is endearing.  I just want to push him off the mountain.  But I keep going.  And on our last break, we both look at the city.

"Look how far we've come," he says.

I'm trying to catch my breath.

"This is like a metaphor for life.  Just when you're about to achieve your goal, you're about to quit."

I think about that as I'm looking down at LA.  There are those moments in my life where I got so close to something that I quit before realizing how hard it was.  And I didn't want to do that.  The Drummer kept trying to remind me how accomplished I would feel when I was done.  I didn't want to hear it.  But I kept moving and suddenly, we were at the top.  We had made it.

And as I looked out, he was right.  The sense of accomplishment took all of that insecurity away.  Now I know there's yet another thing I can do if I set my mind to it.  I've climbed the mountain.  And the next time I climb it, it will be easier.  I will know what to expect.  And now I know that I can make it to the top of the mountain and reflect back on my journey.  I won't quit.

The Rewrite Year

Remember when I said that I felt like I manifested this teaching opportunity.  Well, I went back and refined the syllabi that I had created.  I now have six syllabi that detail exactly what I would teach next year from soup to nuts.  And now I'm done.

I have to surrender it.  I have done everything I can.

I have this play rewrite I'm working on.  I have it all worked out.  Outlined.  I have been struggling with it for the past month.  Which is why it has been easier to write these syllabi and think about lesson plans.  But I have to let that go.

I have to write.  I have taken enough time away from it.  I finished my rewrite of the pilot three weeks ago.

I wrote the first 30 or so pages of the play rewrite.  I should be proud of that.  But, of course, I think I'm  moving too slow.  I always think that I'm moving too slow.  I wrote a really good polished pilot this year so far.  I have a great play that I'm tearing apart and reworking.  I have another great play that I want to rewrite for a reading this summer.

But I've been writing syllabi.  However, even that is writing.  Coming up with a concept for a class that I want to teach.

So it's not like I'm not doing anything.  I'm doing a ton.  But it would be nice to have this play done by the end of the month, so I can work on the next one.

I'm rewriting everything this year.  This is the rewrite year.

Last year, I wrote a new play and three new pilots.  You could say four because the idea for one of them was a totally different pilot and concept last year.  So I kind of have two different versions of the same idea.  Two of those pilots never made it past the first draft.  Both I want to take another shot at this year.

I might not even start anything new this year.  I have a lot of rewriting to do.  That's fine because I want polished work.

I have no new plays I really want to write.  I have a musical I'm supposed to write with a friend.  And I have a few half ideas.  But I do have two screenplays I want to write.  Two ideas that I think are really good.  But other than that, I have nothing in the play department.

It's the rewrite year.  I'm rewriting myself this year.  If this teaching job happens, it will be a major rewrite of my life.  Big time.

Last year I was writing new stuff because I was trying to outrun my pain.  My Dad was dying and I needed distractions.  I wrote wildly and prolifically.  Now I'm taking those things I wrote and refining them.  They are taking better shape.

My life is taking better shape.  I'm going back to something that I was working on before and reworking it.  It's all a metaphor for my life.

All In

My materials are all submitted for this teaching job.

Yesterday, I turned in my letter of intent, my CV and three references.  And today I got an email confirming that all of my materials were received.  Now I need to let it go.

I had a lot of inner turmoil when I found out about this job.  On one hand, it was the answer to my prayers.  After Hawaii, I wanted to start on the next chapter in my life.  And this seemed like a big opportunity.  It felt like something I had manifested.  But at the same time, it involves me being out of LA for at least a year.  It feels like a huge risk.  And it's not a done deal.  I don't have the job.  I think I'm the person for it.  But that doesn't mean that I will get it.  

But I do know that if it does happen, that I will be all in.  I will give all of myself because that's the way I approach everything in my life.  But if I've learned anything over the past two and a half years, it is that I need to make sure I'm saving something for myself as well.

I need to make sure that I do these two play rewrites that I have looming over me.  There's a workshop I want to do in July and a reading that might be happening then as well.  So once I'm heading towards production (putting that out into the Universe), I have this musical adaptation I'm working on with a friend who happens to be in San Francisco.  That makes all the sense in the world since I'll be up there. And there's an HBO show that will be shooting there starting in the Fall.  So I have to try to make my way up to the city to poke around.  Jonathan Groff's in the show and it's about contemporary gay life.  So for that reason alone, I need to figure out a way to get up there.

And I just wrote a script that takes place in San Francisco.  So all roads lead to the Bay Area.  Like I said, I am all in.

A Day Off

Today I just needed to stop.

I had to stop worrying about whether or not this job is going to happen.  If it's one year or three years or starting out at one year, but renewable up to three.  Or if I have what it takes.  Or if my references are the right references.  Or if it's going to affect my relationship.  Or what plays would I teach?  I had to stop.

So I went to the gym.  Then I went to the supermarket.  I caught up on some TV.  I made healthy food: quinoa and tofu.  Then I went to the supermarket again.  And I got potato chips, frozen Snickers ice cream bars, root beer, potato salad and frozen pizza.

I will start my cleanse tomorrow.  Maybe.

I need to really start my new play rewrite tomorrow.  But today I just needed to truly stop.  I was done. My brain hurts.  I have been writing and planning for the future and doing all sorts of shit for a long time.  Now I just need to stop.  Close my eyes.  Relax.  Be lazy.

I haven't done that in a while.  Feels good.

What Does It All Mean?

The posting for this teaching job finally went up today.  And it looks like the job is back to being a year (although I have the sneaking suspicion, it's going to be renewable after the first year). 

So what was the point in me thinking it was going to be three years?

Maybe it was about getting me used to the idea of changing my life.  Maybe it was a litmus test of whether or not this was just a passing fancy or something that I really want to commit to.  

But I know I want it.  And I know I will be committed and won't just run out after a year if there's more opportunity.  I guess it also let me know that if it was three years, and indeed a major arc of my life, I would still want it.

It let me know that I've changed what I want in life.  I don't just want to pursue fame and fortune and notoriety, but that I'm actually interested in writing and writers.

So whatever happens, I'm ready for it.

A Change Will Do Me Good

Life changes--no matter how much we welcome them--are scary.

I am adopting a few philosophies when it comes to my approach to life:

• Say YES.
• Let go.
• Be open.
• Laugh.
• Be enthusiastic.
• Welcome surprise and change.

That might be it.  I want to invite life to get exponentially more exciting, more lucrative and more meaningful.

I'm realizing that this blog is like life.  It's got it's active periods and it's hibernation periods.  I hadn't really written on here since late December and now I'm finding life picking up again.  The winds of change.

I fully embraced our Hawaii Trip because I knew that it would be two weeks in my life that would be set aside for family, for love, and to pay tribute to my Dad.  Life had pretty much been on hold until the end of that trip  I made the conscious decision to do that.  Despite some pressures from The Drummer, who I'm not sure still quite understands what it was like to lose my Dad or carry the burden of being his caretaker, I gave homage to my feelings and didn't rush back into the rat race.  I let myself have the time to embrace my grief and to transform it into a motivation to live better and with more awareness.

Now that we made that pilgrimage to the Fatherland, life is sprouting anew.  I am pregnant with possibility and options.  Life is truly moving on.  And like I said I would experience everything fully when it came to my Father's illness and death, I am committed to fully experiencing my life from this point forward.  I am embracing the lessons and the feelings its bringing up in me.  I am choosing how I want my life to be and that feels great.

But change always is disruptive to the way things have been.  Three years ago I was in an unhappy relationship trying to make things work.  I went to fancy dinners every night.  I drove around in a beautiful convertible BMW with my boyfriend who was miserable and making me miserable.  We had two dogs.  And I was perfectly willing to sit in the stink of my unhappiness.

Then we broke up.  I was housesitting and couch surfing for a while.  I ended a job I had for seven years.  I started a new job.  And that job was the best job I ever had up to that point.  I was appreciated and valued.  I excelled at that job.  I really came into my own.  Then it ended and I was ready for the next adventure.

My Dad goes into the hospital two days into my "unemployment."  And that started a year long adventure of being there for him.  Almost immediately, I decided that I needed to be there for him and not be encumbered by a job.  I made myself available to my alma mater should they need someone to come up and do workshops.  I knew I was going to need some time away while I was dealing with my Dad's illness.  In the middle of this, I met The Drummer and my life got a little bit better.

Then I got a job teaching up there for ten weeks.  And that was probably the best job I ever had.  It was a good year for best jobs.  I found myself engaging with my students.  I came alive.  It gave me a sense of purpose.

Then that job was over and it was back to dealing with Dad and his sickness.  By April, it became clear that there was nothing that could be done and he needed our care 24/7 at the house.  I was determined that he not go into a home and I was going to do everything to make sure that didn't happen.  And I got my wish.  He died at home.

It's hard to believe that between July and March I was still going through this process of grief and figuring out the future for my Mom.  We had financial things to deal with.  Dad left us in a good place, but we needed to ensure the future for Mom.  I wanted to allow myself the time to work through my grief and sadness.  I wrote a lot throughout the whole time of Dad's illness and through his death and in the months afterwards.  I wrote two new plays and four new pilots during the past two years.

Then we got to Hawaii and returned.  It felt like it was time to start anew.  I got rid of my manager.  I finished the new pilot.  I wanted to get things moving.  A theatre was asking for a rewrite and I had another rewrite for a production I want to put up in the Fall.  Then this new job possibility came up.  Then an application for something called the Humanitas New Voices Program which would allow me to write a new pilot under the guidance of a mentor if I was awarded one of the four grants they offer.  I was ready for life to start anew and here was life waiting for me with some options.  And maybe those options won't pan out.  But then there will be other options waiting for me around the bend.

Change is upheaval.  And I have been upheaved several times over the past two plus years.  I just need to remember that it all works out and that riding the wave will bring me closer to where I want to be.

Visualizing the Opportunity: Teaching

Manifesting can be scary.  About six months ago, I went up to Santa Clara to see some students in a show.  While up there for the weekend, a colleague asked me if I would come in and guest teach two classes for her: one on finding agents and managers, and the other on planning a career by dreaming big.  I absolutely agreed to come up and guest teach. 

When I got home to LA, I thought about teaching.  I knew that the university would never have me come up just to teach one class, so I thought about the other classes I could possibly teach.  I looked at the course catalogue and picked about six classes that I knew I was qualified to teach.  I created six syllabi for those classes.  Yeah, I know. I'm a crazy person.  Didn't give it another thought.

Then I came back to teach that class.  It went extremely well, but then I felt like I was getting the cold shoulder from the department.  I wanted to set up some meetings with some folks about some potential teaching opportunities, but there seemed to be things going on behind the scenes that I wasn't privy to.  And I was told that while they could pay me for the first class I taught, they wouldn't pay for me to come back.  It was then that I decided that I didn't want to give away my expertise for free.  So I declined the invitation to teach the second class.  I knew that I couldn't give away information for free.  There wasn't even a barter situation.  It wasn't like they were setting up contacts for me.  

Then I went back up for the wedding of a friend and walked into the office of the department chair.  She told me a position had opened up in the department for the following school year to teach playwriting.  It would only be for a year.  But it would be five courses: two sections of Intro to Playwriting, a class in Adaptation, a Playwrights Festival Workshop and a class in Social Justice and the Arts.  All of this sounded amazing and I immediately got excited.

But it also made me nervous because the guy who I took over for when I taught there was also applying.  He had more experience than me.  And he was teaching there longer.

Then I thought of something.  The class had been offered at Santa Clara for years under the leadership of the guy I subbed for in the Fall of 2011.  Because they wanted to keep the class on the  curriculum, they incorporated it into the University's Core Curriculum.  This was designed to keep enrollment up.  I taught it with 17 students (the cap is 20).  The next year it was taught, there were 25 students in the course.  And this coming school year, they now want to offer two sections of it.  That seems like a remarkable change in the course of a year and a half.  And I think I had at least something to do with it.  

I had a big impact in a short amount of time.  The students and faculty seem to want me around.  That gave me some confidence.  So I went about my business and started putting my application together to be ready when they eventually would post the job.  As I was doing this, I reached out to a colleague for a recommendation.  Then I got some more news.  The job was no longer just a year long position, it would now be a three year gig.  I was prepared to change my life for a year, but to change it for three?  A good friend of mine remarked that this would represent a major arc in my life, versus just hopping out of my life for a year.  This was a CHANGE.

Is this what I had manifested?  I went over all of the choices and declarations I made over the past six months, all of which are detailed above.  Did I do this?  Is this my destiny?  Or is it an acknowledgement that more is out there for me than I initially thought?

I don't know the answer to that question.  But I'm just continuing to put the energy out there and l'm continuing to ride on the Universe's wave to my destination.

And I'm continuing to Visualize  yet another opportunity.  It's certainly an adventure.

Visualizing the Opportunity: TV Pilot

All of this week, as I have been putting the final touches on the TV pilot I'm applying to the Humanitas New Voices Award with, I have been watching YouTube videos of Oprah.

My favorite one is the one from Master Class where she talks about Surrender:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpwW42HVZws

Basically she wants the role of Sophia in The Color Purple.  She's obsessed with it and is told finally that it's not going to happen.  Then she surrenders herself to not getting it and allows God to dream a bigger dream for her than she can for herself.  She says that when you've done everything you possibly can, then it's time to let it go and become a part of the flow of the Universe.  I'm not great at this, which is why I've watched this video at least ten times.  It's a great reminder that you can't hold onto something and suffocate it and expect that it will be waiting for you.  I am trying to practice this with the pilot opportunity.

I started writing the pilot at the end of last year. I was thinking that I would have it ready in time for staffing season this year.  I wrote through January.  I wrote through February.  I wanted to have something done before I went to Hawaii on March 1st.  I was writing every day and working on it constantly, but by the time the end of February came around, I had a draft but I knew it was not the draft I wanted to send out into the world.  So we went to Hawaii for two weeks for a familyivacation where we were spreading my Dad's ashes.  I knew this was way more important than finishing a script. And I knew that the person getting on the plane to Hawaii was not going to be the same person who returned home in two weeks.  I wanted the experience to affect me and seep into my pours.  I wanted it to stain me permanently.  So I engaged with my family and spent time connecting to my boyfriend.  We went on long walks on the beach and went on adventures.  I listened as my dying 95 year old Uncle spoke to me and asked me to engage with him.  I wanted to be fully present to this experience as I had been with every experience that revolved around my Dad's illness and ultimate death.  When I got back from Hawaii, I started writing again.  I knew the window of being ready for staffing season had narrowed.  I was ahead of the game before I left, but I would be right on the cusp of falling behind if a script wasn't done before vacation.  But it just didn't feel like my script was complete.  So I kept writing in mid-March through to April.  It also became clear that I needed to fire my managers because they wouldn't be useful in my trying to reach out to showrunners and other contacts to have them read my script.  I reached out to people who I knew would be influential.  Some of them responded promptly and met me for lunch.  Some I am still waiting to hear from.  Then I heard about the Humanitas Prize.  So I went about trying to find someone to recommend me.  I found a friend who was a showrunner and willing to recommend me.  Then he did.  I had finished the "final" draft of the script by this point.  I wrote while I was in the Bay Area for a wedding in mid April.  My friend came back with a few notes, but over all he thought it was good.  Then I finished rewrites this afternoon so I could make the deadline.  This was the first time in this process of writing a new piece of material that I felt like I could achieve the goal.  I wasn't rushing or hurrying.  I was just working every day on something I had committed to.  And the opportunity came to meet me.

Each time I let go of a way of thinking, a door opens.  An opportunity falls along my path.  I am going to continue to let things appear in my path.  But I have a clear intention.  I want to get a mentor who will help me write a script in a genre that I'm interested in, but need help in.  That could be comedy or sci-fi or some type of procedural.  I want someone to spot me and help me get stronger in an area that is not natural to me, but will allow me to do the things that I do well.

I want something to do this summer that pays.  Then I can transition into teaching in the Fall.

I put forth intention by typing these words and believing what my destiny is.  I just speak loudly, firmly, confidently and let life gather around me.  I let go of the expectation and just focus on the action.

What happens beyond these initial steps is beyond me.  But I just want to put forth good energy that fuels the intention as it becomes actions and propels me forward.

Another description of surrender is "letting go."  I have been trying to let go and let go and let go as much as I can wherever I feel myself holding on too tightly.

Whenever I feel like I'm suffocating the intention, I just watch the Oprah video again and take a breath and decide to surrender more.