The Vs. Studio Blog

“I love actors. Part of that is my theater background and being a writer who cares about performance. Actors have usually chosen their profession because they have a dream of doing it and they want to express something about the world. That’s the same thing that I have with writing. Most of the good actors get into it for those reasons, rather than for reasons of fame or fortune, or anything like that, and that’s where I’m coming from, as a storyteller.” -Martin McDonagh

Riffing on McDonagh’s great film above and Tim Ferriss’ billboard question (“What would you put on a billboard to get a message out to millions of people?”) he asks every podcast guest, below are three billboards I’d like to see outside my hometown of Los Angeles, California. Really every city across the world.

Billboard #1: Assume Positive Intent.

Billboard #2: Strong Opinions. Weakly Held.

Billboard #3: Go Make Your Art. And Help Someone Make Theirs.

Okay, I lied. One more…

Billboard #4: All You Need Is Love. Love Is All You Need.

P.S. – I’d love to know your billboard message. Share in the comments. Or email me. Thanks!

You say goodbye and I say hello
(Hello, goodbye, hello, goodbye) Hello, hello – song, “Hello, Goodbye” by The Beatles

Thoughts are just thoughts and they are inevitable. It’s foolish to try and control them. As Jeff Bridges advises “thoughts are like secretions.”

A practice for when the firehose of negative thoughts threaten to overwhelm and engulf you…

First, welcome them.

Second, thank them for coming.

Third, say goodbye.

Put another way…

“Hello thought.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“Goodbye for now.”

Rinse, repeat.

Dear Reader.  I apologize for not writing any posts last week.  

After a long battle with cancer, my dad, my hero, my best friend, John Francis Clark, passed away last Sunday night.  While he’d been suffering for a long time and I can take some comfort that I was with him and that he’s no longer in pain, I was pole-axed.

I still am.

I had no energy or enthusiasm or desire to write last week, and frankly, I was uncertain I could continue, let alone start up again this week.  But a few things compel me forward.

One, I strongly believe in routine and discipline and habit.  This structure grounds me, especially in the difficult times.  Like prayer and exercise, this blog has become a part of that daily structure.

Two, my dad loved this blog and that I started and maintained it all this time. He loved reading each post and then talking to me about it.  Sometimes with a suggestion or note or an idea for a future post, but more often than not, he’d just say “Ooh, I liked that one.” He’d want me to continue writing.  

Three, all of you.  Nothing makes me happier than knowing a certain post resonated or affected or helped you in some small way.  Thank you for reading, for commenting, for encouraging.  I take your time very seriously and as such, I will continue to always do my best with this blog.  When we’re suffering, one thing that helps is knowing that our suffering, our learning, our personal growth can end up being of service to others.

Finally, I am truly blessed and grateful to have such an incredible family and friends to lean on right now.  Thank you to all of you who heard the news and reached out to check in.  We’ll be okay.  As my dad would say EVERY, SINGLE, TIME I visited or talked to him, “We’ll get through it.”  That was his mantra.  It’s mine.  Let it now be yours too.  

You’re here for me.

I’m here for you.

With anything you’re struggling with right now, just know that together, “We’ll get through it.”

P.S. – Below are a couple of childhood pics of me and my superhero…

“When I give a genuine answer to the “if”, then I do something, I am living my own personal life. At moments like that there is no character. Only me.” -Konstantin Stanislavski

As detailed in Isaac Butler’s terrific book “The Method: How the Twentieth Century Learned to Act“, one of the breakthroughs legendary director Konstantin Stanislavski made in his work was the “Magic If.” To get more real and nuanced performances from his actors, Stanislavski advised them to imagine themselves as the character, going through the character’s circumstances. He wanted them to believe “as if” this were happening to them, and then ask themselves what they would do were they in the same situation as the character. That imagining and questioning were the seeds of action.

Similarly, we can do the same in our lives for anything we’re trying to accomplish.

For example, let’s say you’re trying to raise money for a business or project. Once you’ve put a work plan together and figured out what you need to make said project happen, now imagine yourself carrying out the mission.

Act as if you were ready to roll and starting work on day one.

What would you do?

Who would you connect with?

What would your day to day, hour by hour, look like?

By doing this exercise, I’m guessing a bunch of possible action steps come tumbling out of your head.

Pick one or two or three and get cracking.

Yes, there comes a point when you actually need money in the bank and the time to fully devote to your project.

But until and when that day comes, how far can you take it on spec? How far can you go solo?

I’ll bet much farther and faster than you think.

And if you don’t know what you’d do on day one or aren’t proceeding as if, why would you expect anyone else to fund or follow you?

P.S. – “Ugh. As If.”

You look around and see vastness. There are tons of possibilities. Tons of choices. The future’s wide open. (Especially when you’re young.)

But at some point, you will want to choose. (Otherwise, choices get made for you.)

Decide what you want to do.

Know why you want to do it.

Believe that you can and will do it.

Then, plant your flag. Take your stand. Make it happen.

P.S. – This applies to any short-term project too.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, poem “The Rainy Day”

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’ -Rudyard Kipling, poem “If”

Despair: (noun) An utter loss of hope

The image above is from the film, The Neverending Story. The hero, Atreyu, after battling “The Nothing” succumbs to despair in “The Swamps Of Sadness.” He loses his faithful horse, Artax. All hope is lost. It’s over. He can’t fight any more.

That’s how it goes sometimes. Maybe for you, it’s right now. You did everything you could. Nothing’s working. No signs of progress. You’re beaten down. Engulfed in sadness. You feel like you can’t go on.

Like Atreyu, you feel like you’re gonna drown.

But then, right at your lowest point, right when you’re going through your dark night of the soul, right when you can’t see five inches in front of your face, let alone any light in the distance, something turns.

For Atreyu, it’s a luck dragon, Falkor. To the rescue. He sweeps up Atreyu and whisks him away.

For us, it’s a combination of blind faith, endurance, and the sheer willingness to hold on. To believe that…

“This too shall pass.”

And when it does, when you get through this darkness and come out on the other side, and you will, please do whatever you can to be that Falkor for someone else. Your encouragement is everything.

Once you’ve decided on what’s important to you and started taking action, prepare to get tested and tempted.

Tested by all kinds of obstacles to get you to quit.

Tempted by all kinds of shiny new objects to get you to lose focus.

Stay the course.

The tests and temptations are just proof that you’re on the right track.

You’re lucky to be nervous. It means you’re doing something you care deeply about.

Most people don’t get that opportunity. Most lead “lives of quiet desperation” as Thoreau famously wrote.

Cherish and be grateful for those nerves.

And then, go kick some ass.

“Embrace what you don’t know, especially in the beginning, because what you don’t know can become your greatest asset.” -Sara Blakely

“As for me, all I know is that I know nothing.” -Socrates

Bill: So-cratz – “The only true wisdom consists in knowing that you know nothing”.
Ted: “That’s us, dude.” –Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure

“I don’t know…” is a gift. It opens the door to curiosity and possibility.

“I don’t know…” is honest. It takes vulnerability and courage to respond this way. Instead of bluffing with bullshit, you tell the truth.

“I don’t know…” is confident. Especially when followed with “…but I’m excited to find out.”

“The Tao can’t be perceived. Smaller than an electron, it contains uncountable galaxies.” –Tao Te Ching by Lao-Tzu (Stephen Mitchell translation)

“Challenges are what makes life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.” -Joshua J. Marine

I was thinking a little deeper on yesterday’s post about bonds. I started wondering what exactly are the electrons that the atoms share in common? Do the atoms actually decide among millions of electrons which one they’d like to bond over? What’s that process like? Is it like dating or a job interview? I went down some fun rabbit holes including this article and this one.

I started thinking about covalent bonds among humans. Then it hit me. My A-ha moment.

Metaphor alert! Metaphor alert!

Human beings are the atoms.

The electrons are the struggle.

When we as individuals decide to do hard things (aka “electrons”), we form a bond. We come together. We’re united in the struggle. And this bond remains for life.

On a personal level, three things immediately come to mind…

One…my marriage to Amy and us raising a family together. I am the luckiest guy in the world.

Two…graduating from The University Of Chicago (nickname: “Where fun goes to die”). The lasting friendships I’ve made as a result of all of us going through four grueling and academically rigorous years.

Three…the plays I’ve done with Vs. Theatre Company. We pick tough plays that demand a lot. They ask for a pound of flesh from the actors and all the artists involved. But they’ve been magical and incredibly rewarding experiences. I’m still close with so many people from these productions. In some cases, two decades later.

Don’t be afraid to do hard things. Lean in to the struggle.

The reward for your courage?

The people, the electrons, the bonds you make along the way.