...that you wouldn't be going to work, but, surprise, surprise, you did.
...that things would be the same as yesterday, but, surprise, surprise, they weren't. (Are they ever, really?)
...that you were immune to letting stress bother you, letting
uncertainty rattle you, letting failure undermine your confidence, but,
surprise, surprise, you're no more immune than anyone else.
...that a hot shower and a change of scenery could reset your head from a
trying day, but, surprise, surprise, the shower and the scenery only
work some of the time.
...that you could change the world, or at least your own world, with a
letter or a conversation or a decision, but, surprise, surprise,
changing is a whole lot harder than staying the same.
...that, at the end of the day, you would at least have people in your corner, and, hey, you do.
...that, at the end of the day, a warm meal and a warm robe could make a little difference, and hey, it did.
...that you could, for a moment, put away the stress and the uncertainty and the failure, and just smile, and hey, it worked.
Sometimes thinking doesn't translate to happening, but once in a while
it does. So keep thinking--you might just end up with what you thought.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
Out Of The Little Room
I've been editing in a little room. I have a table and a chair and an
editing computer, a giant air conditioner behind me and a TV monitor
above me. And with the exception of trips to the coffee maker and the
microwave, I don't leave my little room much. You could argue that this
sounds ridiculous. But I like my little room, and I focus better when I
stay there.
These past few weeks, I haven't spent much time editing in my little room. Circumstances shift, and things change, and we are pushed out of the comfort of our little spaces to see what is out in the world. It can be scary. After all, when you're in a little space with a lot of focus, it feels that you are accomplishing big things. When you step out of the small space into the big world, it's harder to see the accomplishments, harder to focus on the task at hand. It can be scary, but it can also be exciting. Outside of the little room, there are new people to meet and new things to learn and new focus and accomplishments to be found. Leaving the little room doesn't mean we can never go back. It just means exploring, and maybe even enjoying, a few things beyond the door. Stepping out of a place of comfort into to a place of new adventures.
My little room has given me so much--new knowledge, new skill sets, new accomplishments, new friends. But sometimes, it's time to open the door and take a few steps--enough steps, at least, that we can see a bit of what's outside our little rooms.
These past few weeks, I haven't spent much time editing in my little room. Circumstances shift, and things change, and we are pushed out of the comfort of our little spaces to see what is out in the world. It can be scary. After all, when you're in a little space with a lot of focus, it feels that you are accomplishing big things. When you step out of the small space into the big world, it's harder to see the accomplishments, harder to focus on the task at hand. It can be scary, but it can also be exciting. Outside of the little room, there are new people to meet and new things to learn and new focus and accomplishments to be found. Leaving the little room doesn't mean we can never go back. It just means exploring, and maybe even enjoying, a few things beyond the door. Stepping out of a place of comfort into to a place of new adventures.
My little room has given me so much--new knowledge, new skill sets, new accomplishments, new friends. But sometimes, it's time to open the door and take a few steps--enough steps, at least, that we can see a bit of what's outside our little rooms.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
What's It Worth To You?
If you read enough job postings and articles about freelancing, you can
make yourself pretty crazy about the value of anything. Juxtaposed with
ads that expect you to offer your services for barely more than (or not
even as much as) it costs you to get to and from work and pay a sitter while
you're working are columns reminding you that under-charging for your
work makes people under-value that work.
So, how do you know what anything's worth in a world where something for nothing has become fairly close to the norm? Some thoughts....
1. If you're learning enough from it that it has some of the value of taking a course, it's probably worth doing--as long as the costs associated with doing it don't add up to way more than any course would cost.
2. If it takes time from your family and gives no value--monetary or otherwise--back to you or your family, it's probably not worth doing.
3. If it is a step toward or a step forward or even just a step in a new direction, it's probably worth doing.
4. If the something for nothing is likely to occupy your brain more than the work itself, it's probably not worth doing.
5. If it's for a friend who will still be a friend, it's probably worth doing.
6. If it's a step back with not even a sign of a step forward, it's probably not worth doing.
7. If it will increase your value--in self-worth, or bill-paying capacity, or new skill sets--it's probably worth doing.
8. If you have to wonder, not once, but over and over, if it's worth doing, there's a good chance it's not worth doing.
In a work world that is turned upside down, it's easy to lose sight of your own worth. Yet, that's the most important time to hang on to the value you have to offer. What's it worth to you? As long as you don't forget to ask that question, you're a step closer to being appreciated for your full value.
So, how do you know what anything's worth in a world where something for nothing has become fairly close to the norm? Some thoughts....
1. If you're learning enough from it that it has some of the value of taking a course, it's probably worth doing--as long as the costs associated with doing it don't add up to way more than any course would cost.
2. If it takes time from your family and gives no value--monetary or otherwise--back to you or your family, it's probably not worth doing.
3. If it is a step toward or a step forward or even just a step in a new direction, it's probably worth doing.
4. If the something for nothing is likely to occupy your brain more than the work itself, it's probably not worth doing.
5. If it's for a friend who will still be a friend, it's probably worth doing.
6. If it's a step back with not even a sign of a step forward, it's probably not worth doing.
7. If it will increase your value--in self-worth, or bill-paying capacity, or new skill sets--it's probably worth doing.
8. If you have to wonder, not once, but over and over, if it's worth doing, there's a good chance it's not worth doing.
In a work world that is turned upside down, it's easy to lose sight of your own worth. Yet, that's the most important time to hang on to the value you have to offer. What's it worth to you? As long as you don't forget to ask that question, you're a step closer to being appreciated for your full value.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
4am Email
I woke up at 4am
with a congested headache, likely the result of that nasty combination
of outdoor snow and ice and indoor dry heat. Surely, a glass of water
would help, so I stumbled to the dark kitchen, poured and drank a bit,
feeling the congestion clear with each sip. And then, I checked my
email. Hey, I was up, and it would save me time later when I was rushing
to make lunches and get kids out the door.
The problem with checking your email at 4am, particularly when you have gone to bed far earlier than the people who send all their emails at 11pm, is that you find out about a lot of things you don't really want to deal with at 4am, things that make it awfully hard to go back to sleep until 5. Mixed in with the department store solicitations and the daily news digests were forms to fill out and questions asked and things that needed responses. So when, having had my drink and calmed my headache, I crawled back into bed for my well-deserved, but almost missed, last hour of sleep, there was no sleep to be had. For while the department store solicitations and daily news digests had been moved to "Trash" without a second thought, the forms and the questions danced in my head as the minutes till the alarm ticked by. And before I knew it, I was up, well before the alarm. Because there is no point in sleeping when you're not sleeping. There are too many things to do, emails to read, responses to be sent.
The headache may still be clouding things, but the thoughts are still clear--never check your email at 4am--at least not if you plan to keep sleeping till 5.
The problem with checking your email at 4am, particularly when you have gone to bed far earlier than the people who send all their emails at 11pm, is that you find out about a lot of things you don't really want to deal with at 4am, things that make it awfully hard to go back to sleep until 5. Mixed in with the department store solicitations and the daily news digests were forms to fill out and questions asked and things that needed responses. So when, having had my drink and calmed my headache, I crawled back into bed for my well-deserved, but almost missed, last hour of sleep, there was no sleep to be had. For while the department store solicitations and daily news digests had been moved to "Trash" without a second thought, the forms and the questions danced in my head as the minutes till the alarm ticked by. And before I knew it, I was up, well before the alarm. Because there is no point in sleeping when you're not sleeping. There are too many things to do, emails to read, responses to be sent.
The headache may still be clouding things, but the thoughts are still clear--never check your email at 4am--at least not if you plan to keep sleeping till 5.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Ultimate Responsibility
I often feel as though my success as an AD--or as many other things--has
come more from a sense of ultimate responsibility than from a
particular natural talent. Ultimate responsibility--you know, that thing
that makes you jump in and fix a situation, even when it's not
technically your job. The thing that empowers you to speak up about
framing a shot better or telling the story better or giving an actor a
note to make the performance better, even when that's not technically
your obligation. The feeling that the outcome is a product of your own making,
even when you are surrounded by people far more accountable for that
product than you are supposed to be. Ultimate responsibility.
What's interesting about ultimate responsibility is how separate it can be from job titles and pay scales and just about any other objective measure of a workplace. Ultimate responsibility is about a state of mind, a willingness to take on ownership of things you don't really own, and a feeling that you can make a difference, and that you should. There have been days when I worried that my feeling of ultimate responsibility was misplaced--that I was taking on far more than my obligation, and taking far too much weight off of other people's obligations. That's just how it is when you act from a place of ultimate responsibility. But when I think back, and when I think forward, I wouldn't have it any other way. Ultimate responsibility is what makes me sure of my contribution--to any job on any project--and it's what makes me good at and satisfied with what I do.
What's interesting about ultimate responsibility is how separate it can be from job titles and pay scales and just about any other objective measure of a workplace. Ultimate responsibility is about a state of mind, a willingness to take on ownership of things you don't really own, and a feeling that you can make a difference, and that you should. There have been days when I worried that my feeling of ultimate responsibility was misplaced--that I was taking on far more than my obligation, and taking far too much weight off of other people's obligations. That's just how it is when you act from a place of ultimate responsibility. But when I think back, and when I think forward, I wouldn't have it any other way. Ultimate responsibility is what makes me sure of my contribution--to any job on any project--and it's what makes me good at and satisfied with what I do.
Monday, February 2, 2015
Sunday Night Limbo
I am quite sure that during my time at ABC, there were Sundays that I spent dreading Monday. Though I was working largely with friends, Monday still meant getting up and out early and possibly working late. Monday
still meant proving myself, whether that was by timing the show
correctly, or understanding the director's vision in the studio or in
the edit, or directing scenes in a way that satisfied both the actors
and my producer.
Sunday is still Sunday, but these days, Sunday is more about question marks than about dread. Will I be working? When? Where? And will I need babysitting, or will my kids' activities and my work (or no work) line up some days so that we can cover the bases on our own? Once upon a time, all I needed was a good night sleep going into Monday. These days, it sometimes seems as though I need a compass and a road map.
So what about that dread I sometimes had? Usually, it was unfounded. Once I showed up and started working, things generally worked out. It might be early, and it might be long, but it was just the way work was, and the next day, I'd do it all over again. The difference now is that "all over again" has become a relative term. In a freelance life, no two weeks are necessarily the same, meaning that no two Sundays can be counted on to be the same either.
Today was a Sunday of limbo, ending in a Sunday night preparing to work on Monday. As for next Sunday, who knows? I've got a whole week-- working or not--before I'll find out.
Sunday is still Sunday, but these days, Sunday is more about question marks than about dread. Will I be working? When? Where? And will I need babysitting, or will my kids' activities and my work (or no work) line up some days so that we can cover the bases on our own? Once upon a time, all I needed was a good night sleep going into Monday. These days, it sometimes seems as though I need a compass and a road map.
So what about that dread I sometimes had? Usually, it was unfounded. Once I showed up and started working, things generally worked out. It might be early, and it might be long, but it was just the way work was, and the next day, I'd do it all over again. The difference now is that "all over again" has become a relative term. In a freelance life, no two weeks are necessarily the same, meaning that no two Sundays can be counted on to be the same either.
Today was a Sunday of limbo, ending in a Sunday night preparing to work on Monday. As for next Sunday, who knows? I've got a whole week-- working or not--before I'll find out.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Looking At Me
As a New York City parent, you spend a significant part of your life
taking your children to places where people evaluate them. There are
tests and interviews for preschool and kindergarten, longer tests and
interviews for middle and high school, and any number of other
situations where your children are subjected to people looking at them
to evaluate their intelligence or their behavior or their "play well
with others" skill. It's not surprising, then, when you realize that all
they really want most of the time is to be left alone--to be allowed to
stay in their natural habitat, not obligated to prove anything to
anyone.
It struck me, as I sat waiting for my son during one of these visits, how similar--yet different--all of this is to job searching. In both cases, you are being "looked over," evaluated on your past performance and numbers and on how well you hold up on the spot in an "interview." In both cases, the goal is to aim for the top places and the right fit, and to be seen as more suited than all the other people around you. In both cases, you try to put your best foot forward, in an effort to move to the next step.
There is, however, a difference. While none of us may like job searching, our goal, ultimately, is to get people to look--to put forth a letter and resume so compelling that the recipient just has to see more. While our kids may want to excel, or may want to end up in the place with the biggest gym or the best food or the individual lockers, they would rather not be "looked at," even if their performance and numbers make that compelling. Isn't it good enough that they just do what they do on a daily basis?
So, as I go through my own process of letter-writing and thinking "just look at me," I am glad that every so often, my kids can take a pause from that. There will be years more of being looked at in their futures. They deserve a little time for just doing their best and being themselves, while they can still have it.
It struck me, as I sat waiting for my son during one of these visits, how similar--yet different--all of this is to job searching. In both cases, you are being "looked over," evaluated on your past performance and numbers and on how well you hold up on the spot in an "interview." In both cases, the goal is to aim for the top places and the right fit, and to be seen as more suited than all the other people around you. In both cases, you try to put your best foot forward, in an effort to move to the next step.
There is, however, a difference. While none of us may like job searching, our goal, ultimately, is to get people to look--to put forth a letter and resume so compelling that the recipient just has to see more. While our kids may want to excel, or may want to end up in the place with the biggest gym or the best food or the individual lockers, they would rather not be "looked at," even if their performance and numbers make that compelling. Isn't it good enough that they just do what they do on a daily basis?
So, as I go through my own process of letter-writing and thinking "just look at me," I am glad that every so often, my kids can take a pause from that. There will be years more of being looked at in their futures. They deserve a little time for just doing their best and being themselves, while they can still have it.
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