September 18, 2015

Choices

As a child, a difficult choice is having to decide between playing with Legos or Etch a sketch (yeah, you just figured out my age, huh?), drawing Minnie Mouse’s dress fuchsia or orange, reading Snow white or Asterix or the excruciating decision between chocolate chip ice cream or caramel fudge.

I miss being a kid.

Of course it never helped that I was a particularly anxious and sensitive child. What if I made a bad choice? Maybe Minnie Mouse’s dress should have been orange, not fuchsia… or red with pocodots? And what color for the pocodots??? Oh the decisions!

I really miss being a child.

Now, as an adult, choices take on a different meaning, have a different impact, and I am still anxious and sensitive as well as stressed.

Everything grows when you become an adult.

After a surprisingly quiet summer, I was eager to start rehearsals. That show was my one good news audition in the summer season. A quiet, deadly, calm 2 months intensified by the various heat waves which I somehow managed to survive (barely) despite lack of sleep and lack of air conditioning. I am not a summer girl – but that is another story for another day.

And no, in case you’re thinking “lucky you, you got to have a nice, long vacation” I did not have a nice, long vacation. You don’t take a vacation when you haven’t worked in 2 months. You don’t take a vacation during shooting season. You make sure you are available “in case”. And you hope your luck will turn.

And it did.

Rehearsals started. Finally! Studying, analysing, and being challenged by a character and a play.

Of course, that is when auditions finally started coming in, while I was already booked in rehearsals.

The thing is, you cannot cancel rehearsal for an audition.

You. Just. Can’t.

So you make a choice to say “no, I will pass”. There will be more auditions later. I hope. (Then you panic, stress and get really anxious. That’s when breathing exercises come in handy.)

Then you get calls from casting agents booking you on shoots.

The thing is, you cannot be on stage and on set at the same time.

You. Just. Can’t.

So you decline work on sets. You remind yourself theatre is a different, noble art. There will be plenty more shoots. You hope. (Then you panic, stress and get really anxious. That’s when you realize you should have practised those damned breathing exercises more often!)

Then you get lucky, and you land a role.

Shoots on the week end.

You can do BOTH the rehearsals and the shoot.

There’s the catch: Murphy was bored and decided you needed to master this making a choice business.

So you get a second call for a shoot on the same week end.

Two roles.

Two productions.

One day.

The thing is, you cannot be on two different sets at once.

You. Just. Can’t.

So, now you have to make a choice. A career defining choice. A “if I screw up, who knows…” kind of choice. A “if I cancel shoot number 1 for shoot number 2, will they ever forgive me and call me for other projects or should I simply stick to shoot number 1 and say no to shoot number 2 even though I get more to play in shoot number 2” ???

Fuck the breathing exercises. They don’t work!

So what is good about making a decision if you feel like you’re always missing out?

Believing you made the best choice because it is the only one that exists.

Believing all those choices made along the way are what got you here, now, facing these opportunities. And whatever choices you will make in your future will be the ones that will get you to the next opportunity.

Every decision brought you exactly where you needed to be.

Breathe.

Minnie Mouse looks awesome in fuchsia.

Natalie

Please share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s