"...the lark, whose notes do beat/The vaulty heaven so high above our heads."

Two years ago I made the agonizing decision to give up my job as the artistic producer of a theatre company to begin the exciting and terrifying journey of starting over. I knew that I needed to get back to developing myself as an artist in a more personal way. I needed to be acting again. Running a company was amazing and unbelievably challenging and so rewarding. And I did it for 8 years! The only other job I'd done consistently for that long was my stint as a hot dog girl and that was summers only! This employment record is not a result of a lousy work ethic. It is a reflection of my need for challenge, change and reinvention.

I love to strive. It's who I am. I'm perfectly capable of living in and enjoying the moment, but eventually my eyes drift to the horizon. I love goals. I'm a Sagittarius. I like to take aim, set my sights and catapult myself toward the next target screaming: "NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It's one of the reasons acting is such a great fit for me. The actors life is in a constant state of renewal. Gigs typically last two or three months. And although the job is always to act, it's a different role, different play, different cast and crew. 

It can also create great discomfort and a sense of powerlessness because no matter how well you perform, there's always an end date, and rarely any assurance of a re-hire the next season. That can be deeply disheartening. 

I once quit acting (and theatre) completely for 4 years because I just couldn't stand the frustration of my fate consistently feeling like it was in someone else's hands, and judging that no matter how hard I worked, I was powerless in my own life. 

That was one of the reasons I stuck with the job of artistic producer for as long as I did. I had no interest in being an administrator but the pay off...! My God! 

I chose the plays I wanted to do! I chose the people I wanted to work with! It was heaven! And the control freak in me LOVED having my fingers in every last pie! 

(hehehe "fingers in pies"...sorry - I just binge watched Orange is the new Black).

Every season, every play, every rehearsal was a new horizon. It was so good for so long. And there was a very big part of me that thought - I could really do this. Like - for good. This could be it for me. Finally a liveable life in the arts.

But by the last couple of years I was just burned out. The company was thriving, the shows were getting bigger and better, and the calibre of artists drawn to working with us was thrilling.

The company was on the precipice of taking the next quantum leap...

And I was empty. The well just ran dry. And this desperate voice from deep inside was begging:

"Please! PLEASE! Can we do something for me?" 

At first I tried to negotiate a sabbatical, but it was a no go.

So I gave it up. I knew it would be hard. Giving up the steady paycheque. Giving up my identity in the community. Walking away from a dream I had been nurturing with my whole heart and soul for the better part of a decade. Walking away from the glue that had been binding my treasured theatre family, knowing that connection would never be quite the same again.

I knew it would be hard and it is. Two years later - it's hard. Not because I regret my decision. I have experienced things in the past two years that I wouldn't trade for anything. I have travelled. I was cast in the balcony scene with the wonderful Nathan Schmidt, and the pride and sheer joy I felt as we shared that scene with our comrades will stay with me as long as I live. I played Constance in King John in the Tina Packer Playhouse! And I played it well!! I have connected with amazing people from all over the world. I have trained with (and been unbelievably inspired by) the masterful teaching artists of Shakespeare & Company. 

I set my sights on seemingly impossible dreams and witnessed miracle after miracle as the unimaginable generousity and support of my community made those dreams a reality. I have been loved and supported and cheered on by the most beautiful beings in the universe.

But I'm scared.

I'm back home now and I don't know where I fit. I am starving artistically. I'm broke as hell. I'm deeply lonely. I feel invisible, irrelevant and powerless. The list goes on and it goes deep. The ground I am standing on feels like quicksand, but when I look to the horizon for somewhere to set my sites - I'm suddenly on a merry-go-round and I can't lock onto anything before it's spinning by too fast to recognize.

I have lost touch with my intuition. I'm struggling to trust myself. My thoughts are filled with second, third, fourth and fifth guessing my choices. I have never in my life read so many horoscopes. I'm just so desperate for some kind of guidance. I'm desperate to recognize something as Truth. Destiny. Next Action Required For Success. I've looked to horoscopes, meditation, yogic wisdoms (you know what I mean!), auditions, training programs, therapists...the list goes on. But all that seems to do is turn my merry-go-round spinning horizon into some kind of carnival duck-shooting-moving-targets-freak-show! "Guidance" just feels like torturous suffocating to me right now. Even the stuff that I know is rooted in best possible intentions from very wise and loving people.

I'm reminded of a moment during rehearsals when I was directing Romeo and Juliet.

It was very late in the process, just before moving into tech. Everyone was exhausted and the pressure at that time is always huge. The details are somewhat fuzzy but essentially the second half of the show wasn't working. I was at home pouring over my script after what had probably already been a 14 or 16 hour work day, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly I knew.  I needed to go in and make some major cuts. I knew there was a danger that the actors would take this as a reflection on them and it could potentially hurt morale but I also knew that what the actors wanted more than anything was for the show to work! At this point I had already made an enemy of a very generous volunteer who had built Juliets costumes because they didn't work with the rest of the design so I had to cut them. I don't like upsetting people - just to be clear - I DREAD IT. My desperate need for approval and paralyzing perfectionism makes the idea of people not liking me...you get the idea. It's not pretty. So I felt like I'd already gone 6 rounds with my demons. But I was excited, because as I made the cuts I knew they were going to work. I called my assistant director into the bedroom (because it was his bedroom too) to tell him my news and share the cuts with him. His immediate reaction was to try to talk me off the ledge. He thought I was panicking. He very rarely, if ever, questioned my artistic decisions. It was usually ME that doubted and him saying "you know what you're doing!" But he was convinced I was just stressed out and was in danger of creating a much bigger problem by bringing in these kinds of changes in so late in the day. He told me the show was great and that I was worrying too much. He asked me to at least sleep on it. 

He is wise. And loving. And I knew he had my best interests at heart. 

But I KNEW I was right. 

And I was. 

It was risky and dangerous and maybe even foolish. And he was right - I was pushing. That's what I do! That's who I am. Because to me good ISN'T good enough - not if it could be better. Not if it's something I'm passionate about.

I trusted my gut, faced my fears, and walked into rehearsal with new pages for the actors. It was fantastic. It lit a fire under the shows ass and gave everyone the energetic boost they needed for a heart pounding second act. To this day, I am proud of that production, and that decision.

I want that voice back. I want that voice to fly up from the depths of my soul like the morning lark and sing to me again. 

I know it's okay to not always know what comes next. My genius soul sister Melanie Jones has a whole brilliant TEDx Talk about it! But there is a place between all-knowing and this paralyzing merry-go-round of doubt, fear and denial of self! I want off the crazy ride.

So I'm doing this. I'm recommitting myself to my Selfe. 

(Shakespeare folio geeks delight! Selfe = Soul! Thanks Shakes & Co!!!) 

I need to start tuning out the so called wisdom of the world. It hasn't really been serving me. I need to do this. I need to speak as myself from my Selfe. I have to stop being so afraid of making mistakes. I WILL make mistakes. It's a pretty safe bet. But at least if I make them they will be MINE. Every time I write a blog post there is a HUGE part of me that is terrified it is a mistake. That's why I write so few! People will judge me, criticize me, pity me! What if they hate it? What if they think I'm ridiculous? What if I read how I really feel and they think it's stupid. What if I feel differently tomorrow? What if I say too much? Reveal too much. AM TOO MUCH???????

I have wanted to write for as long as I can remember. But these thoughts, these doubts, they haunt me. The fear of getting it wrong has crippled my creativity and momentum too many times to count. 

I used to always say that I would rather be alone than be with someone for the wrong reasons. I wore that credo like a badge of honour through YEARS and YEARS of loneliness. There were times when the loneliness seemed almost unbearable. But I can honestly tell you I never once regretted my standards.

Today I realized: 

I would rather risk everything being true to my Selfe, 

than gain anything denying my Selfe.

I wrote a few pieces a couple years ago. I sent one of them to a treasured mentor with an embarrassed note explaining that I'd attached two versions and wasn't really satisfied with either so more editing was required etc etc - and he wrote back:

"...When's the next piece of the play? Not time yet for re-writing. Prolific is the word. Come on Canada. Think Robertson Davies." 

I'm reminded of this response for two reasons. First, because he was just so effing on the mark. I have to just keep moving forward. Just keep going. Create create create. Don't get stuck in fear and minutia. And secondly, because I had no idea what he meant by the Robertson Davies reference and was too embarrassed to ask I googled it and found a quote that jumped out at me:

"Better a noble lie than a miserable truth." 

I read that and instantly a little voice inside responded with:

"Bullshit."
Clear as the morning lark at break of day.