A note on Happiness

When I was 18 and living in Germany, I had a book of Plays called 10 Out of 10. It was a compilation of winning scripts over ten years for an American national playwriting contest for young adults (i.e. 18 and under).

Of course I submitted. I wrote a play called "Terrible Mistake" and it was a very dark piece about murder, rape, firebombs and suicide. It was my first play. It didn't win. (But it fit my age range very well!)

I lost the book in the move back home to Canada. One line from the whole book has always stuck with me, though; it was from a playwright's introduction to his work. He wrote:

"I am disheartened that Orsen Welles was only 25 when he made Citizen Kane. I am comforted that Samuel Beckett was 42 when he wrote Waiting For Godot."

(I maybe misquoting here, but I lost the book over 10 years ago... cut me some slack?)

Moving to Toronto, it has been a joyful-yet-surreal experience catching up with actors and artists that have also moved here from Edmonton, but came here near the beginning of their careers. It's interesting to see and hear where their lives have led them; it's interesting to observe how they seem to feel about their careers. Even within the confines of my own BFA class: from actors with featured roles in multi-million dollar Festivals to actors who have chosen to focus on their children instead of their careers.

When we were all training in "the Program," the powers that be warned us that despite the fact we were receiving some of the best conservatory instruction offered in the country (a fact that would pump up our respective egos even fuller with hot air!), not every one of us in the class would make it as an actor. I think we solemnly nodded our heads in affirmation of this glum reality... but secretly we all knew that this didn't apply to OUR class. We were the exception that would prove the rule: we were all going to be STARS!

As idealistic as we might have been back then, and despite the caution signs our profs were trying to show us, our self-deception was larger than anyone had realized: no one told us what "making it" was supposed to mean.

I'll give you an example: in 2004-05, my former theatre company (the Etcetera Theatre Collective or ETC, a physical theatre collective creation company) was having its most productive season yet. We had created two new works -- one of which was nominated for a Sterling award. We were preparing for a 5-city Fringe Festival tour in the summer. We were beginning to dream up plans for a subscription-based season of plays produced by various Edmonton-based independent theatre companies and co-ops. I was rehearsing for something in the Fine Arts Building at the University and I ran into one of my former profs. She was excited because a (more recently graduated) BFA alumnus was cast in a major musical production in Toronto. She gushed about how she loved hearing about the success of her former students... and then she caught herself and added, "And you! You've been doing well... haven't you???"

I wasn't insulted but was a little confused. Was this other gig better than what I had been doing? Was it better press for the department? Did it have more cache because it was a musical? A large production? Because it was in Toronto and not Edmonton? ... And why on earth was I feeling jealous?

I'm not a musical theatre guy. At all. In fact, the work that I was doing was exactly what I wanted to be pursuing, I thought. I was creating and performing in my own work. I was exploring alternative methods of producing and presenting theatre. I ws writing, directing AND acting. Yet there it was, inside me: the pang of Doubt.

Comparing oneself to anyone else is stupid; yet we all can't help but do it sometimes. I have to constantly remind myself that the measure of happiness can only be determined by juggling what I want with what I already have... in my life and not just in my career.

Having moved to Toronto, I am in the unique position of re-starting my career without wearing the same blinders of inexperience I had in my early twenties. This has forced me to look at what I want and need in my career vs. what I already have, and then redefine myself and my ambitions accordingly (... a process that is ever ongoing). I wrote a play. It's called Superhero Live! and it is different from most work I've seen and heard of. I secretly hope for an inflated budget and inflated cache of a Mirvish Musical for Superhero Live!... I doubt that it would be the correct path for this work, or for me to pursue in general.

... I could certainly use a Mirvish paycheque though...

The most famous actor in the world will meet up with his buddy from high school who has a stable marriage and three beautiful children. They'll sit down over a couple of beers and take a good long look at each other. They will both think to himself: "I wasted my life."

There will ALWAYS be someone who's doing better than you: cast in better role, is in better physical shape, has smarter or better looking children, has more hair on his head and less in his nose, was luckier in his career and was wiser in his life.

Right now, Brad Pitt is looking at Leonardo di Caprio and saying to himself, "That son of a..." (And vice-versa.)

Be happy with what you got. Be clear in what you want. Always remember: in the theatre, if it's not fun it's not worth doing. Enjoy your life; it's the only one you got.