THOUGHTS FROM RSO ON "HOPE"
Hi all,
I've heard from a number of you, my dear AT-ers, that you've (re)entered a rough spot emotionally. Auditions have been slow, or non-existent, callbacks maybe but no big bookings. People around you are booking. You're looking at the date and overwhelmed by a feeling that this isn't how your life should be going, that where you are today isn't where your life should have gone.
I get it ... more than you know. I've won, I've lost, I've been hired, been fired, had opportunities come and go and shows fall apart, cashed big checks and wondered where the next one will come from. And I've done a lot of trying to figure out a way to NOT let these feelings come so consistently. I've made some progress, but like an incurable illness, some things can't be cured — only dealt with and monitored.
Achievement anxiety/depression is a REAL thing, and it affects most artists.
I've found it's often cyclical. Starting in 2016, I started to "chart my happiness." (I know, weird ... I'm a Virgo and I love Excel.) On a scale of –1 to +10 (where negative 1 is "the worst a human could possibly feel" and +10 is "the best a human could ever possibly feel"), each day I give myself a score. I've had some 6s and 7s, and I've had some –2s and –3s, but mostly I live around +3-5, which sounds about right ... and it could be worse.
But in charting this for the last 7 years, I've noticed some PATTERNS, and I think we're all susceptible to it.
January, June and September are three of the most sensitive months of the year: the start of a new year, the start of the summer, and the start of the fall. When I'm not booking work or feeling good about my career, I notice this cycle occurs:
JAN: New year, new me
FEB: Fuck I guess not so "new" me... <--WE ARE HERE
MAR: What am I doing with my life
APR: I'm so tired
MAY: Hurry, make plans for the summer
JUN: Summer's here, I'll plan trips to keep my mind off my sadness
JUL: Summer goes by too quickly
AUG: Fuck fuck fuck fuck the fall
SEP: Fall's here, here we go again
OCT: Is this going to get better
NOV: Stop thinking about your career, turn off your brain for the holidays
DEC: Eat drink holiday repeat
Being actors, your seasons (when auditions are really happening) are a little different than mine, but I think you might see yourself in this. Add to that that you may also deal with seasonal depression (I hate the winter!) and/or seasonal uplift (I love summer!).
But KNOWING that these feelings are going to come BECAUSE of the time of year is one way to accept that it isn't about you, and most people (because 95% of artists are looking for work, whereas only 5% actually have the work) are experiencing it. Remembering this can take a bit of the existential edge off.
But sometimes, it's worse than usual
Sometimes this pattern goes on for so long, it wears you down, and your ability to get past it is harder. Until you reach a phase that sticks, and turns an up and down pattern into what feels like a low, flat line. Suddenly the tiniest good things feel like a miracle (I got seen! = I matter today!) and the tiniest bad things are soul-crushing (they spelled my name wrong at Starbucks! = Do I even exist?).
And for some of you that's how it's been lately. You feel ... hopeless.
I've been there.
I was there over the last few years: an existential dread, a hopelessness that was lower than anything I had ever experienced. You think you know how "low" you can go — but you discover basements below basements and sewers beneath that ... and you find miseries beneath your worst-feared miseries that don't even scare you anymore ... just make you laugh. That the events that happen to you (or that don't happen to you), feel cosmic.
"Don't I work hard? Haven't I worked hard?"
"This used to be easier. Why is it suddenly so impossible?"
"It feels like I did something wrong or upset someone ... it feels like the industry is against me."
"I truly don't know how to take the next step ... I don't know which direction to go in that I haven't already tried, and tried, and tried, and tried ..."
And the last three years have been like that for me.
Some of you attended the business class I gave last December 2022 that was about just this: doing everything you can to help yourself. And I had to sit there and talk for 2 hours and tell you all to have hope ... when I had virtually none. I had to tell you to keep going, when I didn't really know how I could.
This too, shall pass...
But like always, I knew I had to. I've never given myself a back-up plan. But just as it all began to feel utterly futile, and the bad news was sure to keep coming as it had week after week after week (your show is over! the director is pulling out! you've been rejected from that opportunity!) ....
The Kleban happened. December 21st, I was on a train, and I got the call I had been waiting for for 15 years, out of nowhere, unexpectedly. I didn't believe it was happening because it had been so long since I had experienced good news.
But what I couldn't really believe was that this cycle of depression and achievement anxiety was taking an up-turn. That for now, the darkness would pass, and there would be some light. The ridiculous belief I held somewhere, that I would know good days again, that opportunities would come my way, and I'd get to do the thing I loved again — the thing I had always believed but had, of late, started to question ... I was once again, proven right.
If you work hard, keep your eyes open and remind yourself you have control, success will come your way. And if you keep at that long enough, the success will add up. And at some point, when you least expect it, a big break may come your way.
Breaking this down a bit:
We've talked a bit about what "working hard" means in the case of pursuing musical theatre. It's so much more than just auditioning.
"Keep your eyes open" means working intentionally and strategically, not blindly.
"Remind yourself you have control" means not allowing yourself to believe that it's an agent, or AEA-status, that will determine your future — but you.
"Success" means doing what you love. A win. It doesn't mean everything, but it's something to keep you going.
"Keep at it long enough" ... This is a long career you're hoping for, I think. What? 40, 50, 60 years? Your career will ebb and flow. Bad reviews, good reviews. Big shows, small shows. Things you're proud of and things you're doing just for the $$$. For better or worse, a few years of good or bad luck isn't unheard of. Prepare for those "long winters."
"Success will add up." A career isn't one show. A career is dozens of shows, working in many media, creating things and replacing people. A memoir is more than one chapter.
"And at some point, when you least expect it...." Like falling in love or falling asleep, you can't force the world to do your bidding. But you can keep yourself out there, and ensure you're ready for when it comes.
Everything is only for now
So yes, everything has changed for me — for now. And I am reminded as I so often am, that everything is (thank you, Avenue Q) only for now. This pain is only for now. The emptiness and depression and uncertainty, just for now. Your next gig will be only for then, and the waiting after, and the gig after that, only for then. Think of all the bad and good things in your past, the joy you thought was here to stay and the hurt you thought would never heal, they came and they stayed a moment and they left, and you absorbed them into the person you are today.
So, what now?
If you're feeling down, my best advice to you is to take yourself out for a business meeting. All you can do is everything you can do.
Make a list of the auditions that are coming up. If you don't see any you're interested in, ask yourself if you have enough interests.
Go see theatre and concerts. Immerse yourself with the artists and the people you want to be working with and for.
Make a long list of industry professionals you love, and connect or reconnect with them.
And make a list of people you're a genuine fan of. Engage with their work, and reach out in all the ways you can.
But most importantly, find your Little Wins.
I wish I could tell you that I am immune to validation but I'm not. I need people to like my work, and like me, and hire me, and tell me I'm awesome. And I'm sure you do, too. But sometimes, when we're feeling those voices aren't happening as frequently as our spirit needs, we must find our little wins.
Surround yourself with people who inspire you and avoid plans with people who depress you / bring you down. Create little projects — about theatre, but also not about theatre. If you're not working, you may have some time, so pick up a hobby you enjoy. Give yourself something to do, short- and medium-term, that you can invest time into and when they're done, you say, "I did that, I made that, I won. A little bit, but I won."
And... there's something to be said for manifesting
I'm not religious, and I'm not particularly superstitious, and I ... thought ... I didn't believe in manifesting, but ...
On Dec. 1, 2022, a director pulled out of a musical I was working on which was just another thing in a horrifying list of bad news. And I actually had to laugh, the string of bad luck was so ridiculous, and I just, offhandedly said — and then ended up writing in my journal: "In 21 days, before my parents get here for the holidays, something incredible is going to happen to change my life."
I won the Kleban on Dec. 20, and my parents arrived on Dec. 21.
You won't believe me — why should you? — but I swear on everything good in the world that that is a true story. So there's something to be said about manifesting.
About believing, for no good reason other than you want it, that your dreams can come true. WILL come true.
So work. Do. Win. Manifest.
Hope.
-RSO