The Vs. Studio Blog

You’ll never regret going after something with everything you have and falling short. You can live with that.

You’ll only regret giving a half-assed effort.

Or not going after something at all.

For anything that happens to us, anything we read or hear, anyone who evokes strong emotions in us, we’d be wise to do two things before responding.

First, bring awareness. Just be aware that we’re having that response. Notice the thoughts. Don’t judge them.

Second, bring curiosity. Get intensely curious with our feelings. Be our own emotional detectives. Say to ourselves as often as we need to…”That’s interesting.” As if we’re playing a part and trying to get into the skin of the character. Why are we feeling this way? What might be causing it? Is there something deeper going on?

“That’s interesting” is a great pattern interrupt. It stops us from going down the same, worn out, response grooves. It’s also the first step towards making any kind of lasting change.

I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and working with some incredible actors. Actors with long, illustrious stage, film and television careers. They’ve all consistently shared this principle with me: “An actor’s really lucky if he or she gets a few great roles in their lifetime. The rest is work. Show up and do your job the best you can.”

Think about that…A few great roles. In a lifetime. If you’re lucky.

Can you counter this? Is there a way to not let fate determine your chance at artistic happiness?

Yes! By taking responsibility. By finding or creating a great piece of material for yourself. A role you’re dying to play. A story you simply must share. So much so that you’re willing to do all the difficult work of producing. And producing with excellence and generosity. For yourself. Your fellow artists. And the audience you seek to serve.

Rinse. Repeat.

Over a lifetime, you’ll have an incredible body of work. Roles you’d never have been cast in. Deeply meaningful experiences and lasting friendships.

That’s the mission of The Vs. Studio and this blog.

Don’t wait to get picked. Pick yourself.

Or as Bruce Lee said, “To hell with circumstance. I create opportunities.”

Go make your art.

Be so demanding of yourself and exacting in your work.

That other people’s criticisms feel like a walk in the park.

“Success is peace of mind that is the direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” -John Wooden

For life and for anything we’re trying to do, it’s vital to know how we define success. It should be our own, personal definition.

It might take us a while to craft. And we might change and refine it over our lifetime. But we should have one and know it cold. Because it’s our anchor. Our North Star. Our constant way to measure if we’re living up to our own standards and highest ideals. Not subject to the whims of others or the prevailing culture.

The observer effect is a common principle in quantum mechanics. Basically, it states that the mere observance of an object changes the actual object. You can read more about it, including Schrodinger’s famous cat, HERE.

The Stoics advocate behaving as if someone is always watching you. Someone you admire and respect. Seneca called it having a “sage on your shoulder” at all times.

So, if you knew you were being observed and that the observance changed you, what would you do differently? What actions would you take or not take? What habits? What art might you create?

Let the observer effect inform what we think, say and do.

“I criticize by creation, not by finding fault.” -Marcus Tullius Cicero

It’s easy to know what we’re against. There’s a long list. And it’s the first step towards progress. But it can’t end there.

We must know what we’re actually for. What specific changes do we want to make? What new systems do we want to build? What art do we want to create?

The Franciscan Friar and great spiritual teacher Richard Rohr writes…we go from Order to Disorder to Reorder.

That’s where the work is. That’s the full journey we must go on.

I recently spoke to an actor friend who organized a Zoom play reading.

“I had no idea how much work goes into producing,” she said. She came away with a deep respect and appreciation for the job. She couldn’t imagine producing an actual run of a play. Let alone also acting in it.

Unless someone does our exact job, they won’t know what it’s like. Nor should we expect them to. We can save ourselves a lot of anguish by always giving them the benefit of the doubt. By not looking for thanks or praise or even empathy. If we get it, it’s a bonus, that’s all.

And because it’s often a lonely and thankless endeavor, we must produce what we’re extremely passionate about. That passion, that burning desire to manifest the idea in our heads, that’s what will pull us through the dark days.

We don’t get to decide how our art is received. If it is received. Who exactly will receive it.

That’s entirely up to the audience.

All we get to decide is if that idea in our head is worth spending precious time, effort and energy to create.

In finance, a sunk cost is defined as a cost that’s already been incurred and can’t be recovered. Classical economists argue that when making a rational decision, sunk costs should not be taken into account. They are bygone. All that should be considered are current alternatives and future consequences.

Sounds great in theory, but human beings are not often rational creatures. The psychology of sunk costs, knowing you spent lots of time and money pursuing one path, only to find it’s the wrong path, holds you back from making the best decision now. You do nothing. Or worse, you spend even more time and money pursuing the wrong path. Hence the phrase, “throwing good money after bad.”

Our fate is determined by the quality of the decisions we make. When taking action, we need to see things as they actually are. With clear eyes and hearts. Not as we wish them to be. All that matters is what we do now. In this moment. How we arrived here is irrelevant.

I saw an interview with Daniel Day Lewis (“DDL”) and Paul Thomas Anderson (“PTA”) discussing the making of the film “There Will Be Blood.” (If you haven’t seen the film or it’s been a while, go watch it. Now.) DDL worked for several years on the character of Daniel Plainview before shooting started. Getting the behavior, the posture, the voice, etc…just right. He showed up to the set, in character, as per his norm, utterly prepared. About a week in to shooting however, something wasn’t right. PTA sat DDL down, showed him the dailies. Said he needed to go in a different direction with the character. Day Lewis saw what he was doing on screen and agreed. They reshot the entire week.

How many of us in the same situation would have the courage, the openness, let alone, the ability, to pivot, to change on a dime? Especially when factoring all the sunk costs. Fortunately, both these artists only cared about what was right for the character and the film. They both bravely ignored ego and sunk costs and made a quality, new decision. The rest is Oscar history.

What sunk costs hold us back from choosing the right path, from making a decision, from making our art?

P.S. – For more on sunk costs, check out Seth Godin’s excellent Akimbo podcast episode HERE.