Uncomfortable Bedfellows

Perseverance and contentment are important qualities in a full and happy life.  Yet oftentimes they seem like uncomfortable bedfellows.  

Take an actor, for example.  He or she must be ambitious; must be always looking for the next opportunity to grow in their craft, improve their skills, secure the next role.  They have to be prepared to move around, change cities or countries, and be apart from loved ones if that is what the work requires.  They must overcome all manner of rejection, fluctuating status, financial instability, and the challenge (economically and mentally) of extended ‘rest periods’.   If they weren’t persistent, and come to that, brave, they simply would not last.

Even when an actor (singer, dancer, writer, artist) ‘gives it up’, making a decision to use their skills elsewhere so, more reliably, they can have some of the other things life offers… they rarely leave the industry before they’ve shown incredible persistence in the face of difficulty.  Persistence is the 101 of the entertainment and cultural sector, where even the top lucky five percent will have their turn to topple off the ladder.

There is an old saying in showbiz: “you’re only as good as your last performance”.  It breeds in artists a hope, a belief, that the best is always ahead of them… a hunger to not just maintain their craft and professionalism but to grow until they reach greater heights.  Ask any actor, director, writer, singer, film-maker, choreographer and you’ll hear the same story… for evident in many people in ‘the business’ is a common combination of: persistence, optimism, insecurity, and a forever-young-Peter-Pan complex.  And once this ‘drug’ or ‘drive’ is absorbed it is hard to get out of the system. 

That’s why I love being around creative people.  They understand what it’s like to spend most of their life out on a limb, of sorts, and often they develop a sense of humour and perspective which is commensurate. 

Of course success in many endeavours requires persistence and self-belief – never more so than when the time lag between exerted effort and reward is prolonged.  Take for example,scientists doing research, athletes training before they make (or don’t make) it to the Olympics, and anyone involved in a start-up business venture.

Day-to-day life requires persistence to get through all manner of emotional and practical difficulties.  Many face far more than their fair share of hurdles or loss and should be respected for their resilience.  As Ben Affleck said at the Oscars recently (I paraphrase): the measure of a person is not how many times he or she falls down but how many times he or she gets up. 

People in the creative industries are not alone but their continual exposure to the vagaries of employment and professional status does make for a special case.  How then does persistence (when necessarily accompanied by ambition) sit beside the inner need for contentment?   If, as artists, we are always chasing the next project, always put in a situation where we must prove ourselves, does that put us at odds with the discovery of contentment?

I think sometimes it does… unless we are careful, and unless we make an effort to frame our life, our efforts, goals and thinking, in a broader light.  

In a second we can all bring to mind conversations we’ve had with fellow artists about our frustrations – wanting this or that audition, role, director, agent, publisher, increased arts funding… the list goes on.  I distinctly remember making a decision to go back to university and move across into arts management because I did not want to “reach my 40s and be sitting at a BBQ complaining about my agent”.   I’d heard it too many times and I didn’t want to be defined or limited by that feeling of powerlessness… the feeling that anonymous sentinels were standing between me and my next opportunity.   “If only I could get in the door…” we’d all say…

Some of that frustration is very real, but actually should be less now we have such free access to information on the internet.   It is also a part of the bargain we make with ourselves when we choose to put our time and energy into an industry which is immensely challenging but also immensely rewarding.  For if there isn’t conscious acceptance of these difficulties, as an inevitable and rarely personal aspect of our job, then it can really get you down. 

Of course it’s natural to get tired of it sometimes, to need a break or a bit of upside energy from elsewhere, but if the persistent and ambitious dimension of our industry is not acknowledged (and managed), artists risk missing some of their lives, missing some of life’s wonderful richness, because we get so busy ‘chasing the next prize’ there is a danger we are not living sufficiently in the moment – in the moment where there is likely much to be thankful for, much to be appreciated, and a world of other possibilities and topics of interest.    

These comments are probably more applicable to the younger members of our industry, for hopefully age brings a little wisdom with the wrinkles.  Yet it can trip anyone up.

Recently I caught up with a good actor/dancer who, in order to more reliably establish and support a family, had moved away from the roller-coaster of touring and auditions to establish a high-quality dance and drama school, and I asked him whether he felt content with his choice.  I expected him to say he found day-to-day life easier, more peaceful… because he was no longer ‘chasing the next job’.  However he said he found the routine, the predictability, something of a grind… but that he was content with the bigger-picture… having bought his own home and ensuring he had weekends free with his family and time to be there for his children’s school concerts. 

I guess we can all feel impatient about the daily grind, whatever we do to pay the bills, and no-one who knows the demands of an eight show week, week in week out, could ever say it was all beer and skittles.  It’s hard work. 

So perhaps contentment is a state of mind, a perspective on what we ‘do’ or ‘have’ rather than a ‘place to arrive’? 

Maybe we don’t find contentment through resignation (through letting go of ambition) but through consciousness… consciousness that we are choosing to be a part of a wonderful but challenging industry (in whatever capacity)… and thankfulness that we have the talent and drive to take part, to be enthused, and to prioritise our greatest love.   Indeed thankfulness is a cure for all sorts of ills.

If so contentment is less about what we do… in work, out of work, in the business, out of the business, good part, boring part… than about realizing inner peace comes through struggling less against what we don’t (yet) have… and acknowledging it is a ‘state of being’ we can attain, with the right perspective, no matter how many auditions or rejections we face.

Nevertheless I have always thought the best part of making it through multiple auditions to win a role is the moment your agent phones to tell you you’ve been successful.  I love rehearsals, the adrenalin of opening night, and being in a production where nightly you can hone the subtleties of the part you’re playing.  Yet the high is never quite so satisfying as the euphoria when you have done your thing to the best of your ability and discover you have been chosen above other worthy competitors.  For a showbiz addict it’s the best feeling of being wanted there is!  (Well, unless Johnny Depp or Liam Neeson were to turn up on my doorstep.)

And that was why I couldn’t understand so many lampooned Sally Field at the Oscars years back, for saying “you like me, you like me…”, when I thought she was adorable for being so frank and honest about the ‘race’ which she finally felt she had won.  

We do ‘put ourselves out there’, again and again, and persistence is key.  But we don’t have to let insecurity destabilise self-love or self-acceptance, any more than artistic ambition should exclude interest in other aspects of life. 

So perhaps persistence and contentment don’t have to be uncomfortable bedfellows.  We just need to wrestle the pillows a bit until we find a sensible balance.