Saturday, July 9, 2016
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Today I Did Something Difficult
Last night I had a conversation with my Aunt Lucy that went along these lines:
This sparked a 3 hour discussion on what would take place the next day involving handstands, flips, humor, and what ended up being an incredible amount of vulnerability for me.
Ever since I was little I've been performing. I first got on stage at the tender age of 7 with my brothers by my side and my Grandma at the piano. Singing and performing hasn't been a problem for me. It comes naturally. This, however, this was something different. I was CREATING this act, and it wasn't a song. It wasn't a poem. It wasn't set in stone, and there was no memorized script. More than that, it was comedy.
COMEDY.
I don't know how well you are acquainted with me, and you should know this if you're not. Comedy is not my jam. I feel so inadequate about my comedic skills. Give me a poem or a song or tell me to do a handstand on top of that thing, and I'm in my comfort zone. Tell me to run 53 minutes of stairs or do a thousand pushups or go talk to a stranger or ask a girl on a date or do a handstand on that other thing, and I'm still in my comfort zone. Tell me that I'm leaving tomorrow to spend the next two months in Europe, and that's definitely in my comfort zone. I can do that. No worries there.
But comedy?
Yeah, not my cup of tea. By nature, I tend to like to control situations. Comedy is one I'm not confident that I can control. Especially when working with another person. Alone, I could probably put together a fairly decent comedy show and perform it myself and feel pretty good about it. This time I wasn't alone. My brother Spencer was involved, and we were getting input from Lucy. Spencer's humor I get along with really well. Lucy's I don't always. I think that yo mamma jokes are dumb. Regardless, I was thankful for her input, and could see how valuable it was, so I tried to stop talking and start listening more. Still my ego was getting in the way and I felt like I had to interject myself into every single thing that was happening. Going to bed last night I felt so raw and vulnerable and terrified about what was going to happen today that I hoped a little bit that it wouldn't happen.
This ended up being a great exercise in trust for me.
The fact was that I couldn't control this whole performance. It was put together too quickly, was too disorganized, had too much unscripted material, and had too much humor for me to control. It also had Spencer in it, and as I was calming myself and trying to prepare to go on stage, I found myself trying to control his emotions too - trying to make him have the stage presence which I thought he should have. The one I was afraid he wasn't going to have. The one I was afraid *I* wasn't going to have.
My shame gremlins were having a field day.
"He's going to ruin it for you!" They told me very distinctly. "He's too nervous and not engaged! He's not going to smile! You knew this was a bad idea, and you did it anyway! We told you! You can't do this!"
As I prepared, I prayed, and put effort into clearing my head and focusing on what was going to happen and what I could do about it. I came to realize that there was absolutely nothing I could do about how Spencer felt or acted, and that it really was possible that he could ruin the show. I realized that *I* was preemptively ruining the show by trying to control the end result. So I decided to let it go, open my heart, and just give what I had.
It was terrifying.
I allowed the feelings of nervousness and vulnerability to come, welcomed them into my heart, and HAD A BEAUTIFUL SHOW. :D
We didn't advance to the next round, even though I thought we were going to make it. My ego was displeased by the judge's decision. My joy, however, was greater than my ego in that moment, and I felt happy.
I felt so accepted and loved by so many people, and by myself. I showed up and was present, and it made all the difference. I gave my heart to the moment and just felt joy. I felt connected to Spencer. We had a great time.
And, in the midst of it all, I got this wonderful accidental mantra inscribed on my wrist which defined my intentions going into it, and described my feelings coming out. That was cool. Flippin cool. ;)
What a wonderful day. Vulnerability is awesome. Showing up and being present is awesome. Love is awesome. Life is awesome. ^_^
Thanks, Lucy and Spencer. You guys rocked it. I'm so glad that I did this with you. This was good for me.
Dear reader, I hope you find something to open your heart to and be present in soon. It's amazing. :)
Thank you, God! :D
L: You want to do Malad's Got Talent. I know you want to perform.
D: Not really.
L: Yeah you do.
D: Ahhh. Ehh.. No. Not really.
L: It's your last year at home, come on, Dal!
D: I don't want to.
L: You're going to.
D: .... I don't even know what I'd do.
Well shucks.
This sparked a 3 hour discussion on what would take place the next day involving handstands, flips, humor, and what ended up being an incredible amount of vulnerability for me.
Oh, and jedi wrestling.
Ever since I was little I've been performing. I first got on stage at the tender age of 7 with my brothers by my side and my Grandma at the piano. Singing and performing hasn't been a problem for me. It comes naturally. This, however, this was something different. I was CREATING this act, and it wasn't a song. It wasn't a poem. It wasn't set in stone, and there was no memorized script. More than that, it was comedy.
COMEDY.
I don't know how well you are acquainted with me, and you should know this if you're not. Comedy is not my jam. I feel so inadequate about my comedic skills. Give me a poem or a song or tell me to do a handstand on top of that thing, and I'm in my comfort zone. Tell me to run 53 minutes of stairs or do a thousand pushups or go talk to a stranger or ask a girl on a date or do a handstand on that other thing, and I'm still in my comfort zone. Tell me that I'm leaving tomorrow to spend the next two months in Europe, and that's definitely in my comfort zone. I can do that. No worries there.
But comedy?
Yeah, not my cup of tea. By nature, I tend to like to control situations. Comedy is one I'm not confident that I can control. Especially when working with another person. Alone, I could probably put together a fairly decent comedy show and perform it myself and feel pretty good about it. This time I wasn't alone. My brother Spencer was involved, and we were getting input from Lucy. Spencer's humor I get along with really well. Lucy's I don't always. I think that yo mamma jokes are dumb. Regardless, I was thankful for her input, and could see how valuable it was, so I tried to stop talking and start listening more. Still my ego was getting in the way and I felt like I had to interject myself into every single thing that was happening. Going to bed last night I felt so raw and vulnerable and terrified about what was going to happen today that I hoped a little bit that it wouldn't happen.
This ended up being a great exercise in trust for me.
The fact was that I couldn't control this whole performance. It was put together too quickly, was too disorganized, had too much unscripted material, and had too much humor for me to control. It also had Spencer in it, and as I was calming myself and trying to prepare to go on stage, I found myself trying to control his emotions too - trying to make him have the stage presence which I thought he should have. The one I was afraid he wasn't going to have. The one I was afraid *I* wasn't going to have.
My shame gremlins were having a field day.
"He's going to ruin it for you!" They told me very distinctly. "He's too nervous and not engaged! He's not going to smile! You knew this was a bad idea, and you did it anyway! We told you! You can't do this!"
As I prepared, I prayed, and put effort into clearing my head and focusing on what was going to happen and what I could do about it. I came to realize that there was absolutely nothing I could do about how Spencer felt or acted, and that it really was possible that he could ruin the show. I realized that *I* was preemptively ruining the show by trying to control the end result. So I decided to let it go, open my heart, and just give what I had.
It was terrifying.
I allowed the feelings of nervousness and vulnerability to come, welcomed them into my heart, and HAD A BEAUTIFUL SHOW. :D
We didn't advance to the next round, even though I thought we were going to make it. My ego was displeased by the judge's decision. My joy, however, was greater than my ego in that moment, and I felt happy.
I felt so accepted and loved by so many people, and by myself. I showed up and was present, and it made all the difference. I gave my heart to the moment and just felt joy. I felt connected to Spencer. We had a great time.
And, in the midst of it all, I got this wonderful accidental mantra inscribed on my wrist which defined my intentions going into it, and described my feelings coming out. That was cool. Flippin cool. ;)
What a wonderful day. Vulnerability is awesome. Showing up and being present is awesome. Love is awesome. Life is awesome. ^_^
Thanks, Lucy and Spencer. You guys rocked it. I'm so glad that I did this with you. This was good for me.
Dear reader, I hope you find something to open your heart to and be present in soon. It's amazing. :)
Thank you, God! :D
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