
In the late 1960s, researchers at Stanford conducted what became known as the Marshmallow Test. A preschooler was placed in a room with a marshmallow and given a choice: eat it now, or wait a few minutes and receive two marshmallows instead. Early findings suggested that children who could wait tended to be more successful later in life, helping popularize the idea that self-control was a key ingredient in achievement.
But as writer and ADHD advocate Gray Miller explains, later research added crucial context. A child’s willingness to wait turned out to have less to do with innate self-control and more to do with trust. Kids who believed adults would keep their promises were more likely to wait. Kids from less stable backgrounds often took what they could while it was available. Choosing the marshmallow wasn’t a failure of character. It was a rational response to uncertainty shaped by experience.
What if self-control came less from trying harder, and more from designing lives that work with our natural drives?
Maybe it’s not a test of willpower at all, but a reflection of what (and who) we trust. -excerpt from a Medium blog post (Edited by Scott Lamb and Harris Sockel)
Some love is just a lie of the heart
The cold remains of what began with a passionate start
And they may not want it to end
But it will, it’s just a question of when
I’ve lived long enough to have learned
The closer you get to the fire, the more you get burned
But that won’t happen to us
‘Cause it’s always been a matter of trust -lyrics from the song “A Matter Of Trust” by Billy Joel
“I’ll marry you if you admit that respect, admiration, and trust equals love.” -Hal Hartley, writer/director of the film Trust
Thanks to everyone who showed up this past Vs. Tuesday Night for “Cocktails and Conversations”. Our theme was “directors.” There were so many terrific insights and opinions shared. A consistent one was “trust.”
The actor needs to trust their director. To trust that the director always has their back and won’t let them fail. That the director is doing what’s best for the play.
The actor is out there on the edge, putting it all out there, risking, revealing their emotions. Think of actors like firefighters. They’re rushing into a burning building when everyone else’s instinct is to rush out. That’s what it means to truly open yourself up and be vulnerable.
To do this, the actor needs to fully trust their director. They need to feel safe and loved and supported. As well as pushed to go to places they never thought possible. The actor needs to know that if the director gives them a compliment, it is true and meaningful. Not B.S. If the director gives criticism or feedback, that it is well thought out, constructive and is what’s best for the actor and the play.
Much like character or reputation, trust takes a long time to establish, yet can be ruined in one false move. So if you’re a director, be aware of this. Cultivate and nourish that trust with your actors, designers and collaborators. Never break it.
And if you’re an actor and have that trust with a director, cherish it with all your heart. Do everything you can to continue working that person.
P.S. – This scene. So good!
Love this post!
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Thanks Geo!
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