Friday, May 2, 2014

When you think you're a stinking pile of shit...

The power of positive thinking. I'm trying to cling to this notion even as I feel myself slipping further and further away from it. I know from experience that this kind of stuff does work. Being clear about my intentions, creating a vision board, believing that the seemingly impossible is possible.

But then life decides to throw some curve balls. Is this to test my faith? Or bring me back to "reality"? I'd like to think it's the former. As a writer, one must get used to copious amounts of rejection but after a while, rejection takes its toll. Self-esteem plummets, leaving plenty of room for self-doubt to creep in.

What if I'm shit? What if my writing is no good? What if nothing ever comes of this? Then I remind myself that I have a production coming up next year, which is a big f*cking deal, and that I had a short play produced last fall. It received mixed reviews, which felt like a sharp arrow through my heart, although the few words mentioned about it in a major paper were positive. However, people to this day tell me that short play was one of their favorites (it was performed with nine others as part of a festival), and that it brought them to unexpected places. What more could I ask for?

All I wanted a few years ago was a production. I have one in the hopper, and now I want multiple productions. It's a trap, really, a thirst that will never be quenched if I focus solely on end results without enjoying the journey. It's like nothing can happen "fast enough". I'm so anxious to legitimize myself as a writer but I must be careful not to intertwine my self-worth with my accomplishments or perceived lack thereof.

I think I need to relax, breathe, have fun and not worry about "how" things will come about. I'm doing my part. I just need to trust the Universe a little more and stop being so impatient. I mean, really, how hard can that be?