Driving my daughter to school this morning, she was overcome by the fact that she hadn’t been able to learn all of her lines for the play she’s currently rehearsing. She was in that place we all get from time to time where we point the finger at the person in the mirror for all of the failings we’re experiencing. “If only I’d tried harder, worked better, been better. It’s all my fault.”
Consoling her, I tried to remind her how proud I was of her for embarking on such a challenging creative journey and that, even as a grownup, I still experience these kinds of feelings with my own work. The most important thing, I told her, is that we keep showing up and do the best we can, even when things don’t go to plan. The secret gift behind anything to do with the arts is that you learn the truth behind the saying “the show must go on,” and if you're lucky, that magic helps to carry you through life’s inevitable ups and downs.
In my own career as a director, I constantly face the gulf between the dream of the perfect scene and the sobering reality of the first cut. Just this week I experienced the rollercoaster of viewing an edit that I felt was a long way from where I wanted to be. It doesn’t necessarily get easier, but what does happen is that you get better at reminding yourself that it’s all part of the process and to not lose hope, that it’s just another step. Life imitating art, imitating life as best it can. A tricky thing to communicate to a 9 year old, but some of it seemed to land.
The other, more vital lesson I shared, and one that I have only recently learned, is that blaming ourselves so vehemently is rarely the best way forward. The idea I remember being a lightbulb when I learned it, was that instead of beating yourself up, try speaking to yourself like your best friend might in those moments. Apply that uplifting, inspiring stuff you share with friends and loved ones to yourself and see what happens. I was reminded of the wonderful PSA that Monica Lewinsky produced recently, highlighting this very subject.
As we pulled up to the drop off point, I sensed we had maybe turned the corner.
“Who’s your best friend?”
“Me,” she smirked, wiping her eyes.
“That’s it,” I said, proudly.
She grinned, gave me a kiss on the forehead and leapt out of the car.
As I drove away, I had one of those moments where the world stopped for a beat, and I wondered who was actually schooling who.
👉 I send this email weekly. If you would also like to receive it, join the other smart people who absolutely love it today.
🙏 If you enjoy reading this post, feel free to share it with friends! Or feel free to click the ❤️ button on this post so more people can discover it on Substack.