Resist Nostalgia

 After the second deadliest school shooting in US history, FB reminded me of a post I wrote a year ago on this day. From 2021...

I want some of my life back, but I don’t want to go back to normal. I was talking to a creative who is battling her boss’s attempts to lure/cajole/threaten employees back into the office with a resumption of 8 hr work days and one hour commutes. There is strong resistance to this. Most of her coworkers have moved to less congested areas, work from home, have less stress, and are as productive as before. The creative said that the demands were old ‘normal’ thinking and restrictive and silly. She said it just felt like a managerial power move to say ‘back to the normal grind.’ Customer service employers are now getting pushback from job applicants because they are demanding to know how much they’ll be paid and if they can live off it. Can you imagine? The audacity of wanting to be able to LIVE off a full time job?!? Employers are trying to crack down and keep poverty wages of the old normal. My dad passed away in January and you know what we didn’t get? A $10k bill from the hospital or a ‘death fee’ or a ‘funeral home ambulance transfer fee.’ He passed away at home in his own bed of natural causes...relaxed. The hospitals were crowded with covid but now that things are returning to normal they want that ‘death money’ so they can run up charges on grieving families. Healthcare should be free. It shouldn’t cause stress, depression, anger, and bankruptcy. The old normal was filled with mass shootings, school shootings, healthcare bankruptcy, poverty wages, and pyramid scheme capitalism. In the arts, the old normal was rife with abuse, sexual predators, and inequalities in race/class/gender/age. We tolerated this because we expected nothing. Now we know better. Don’t let them buffalo you with that ‘now you can hug your mema’ hype so you can be back in the bullshit. There are specific cultural moment in our lives where things could change for the better for the worse. Most of the time it’s for the worse. 9/11 was one of those shifting moments, and we let them use it to militarized our lives, our security in our police force. 2020 was painful but it opened a door to ‘a new’ way. Don’t let them close it.

Fire Never Touches Wood

When I was down in Miami working on the musical I became fixated on a new dharma course about the emptiness of the mantra. We're 3 yrs into this global pandemic and there's been this surge in people doing the Medicine Buddha mantra to heal. The monk Geshe Michael wanted to clarify something radical 'mantras don't work.' Of course then this begs the question 'then why are we doing them?' And then he unfolds this amazing discussion about the nature of reality and how things play on each other according to Buddhist logic from Master Nargarjuna. It was incredible to be down in Miami dealing with shutdowns and panics over this musical and to retreat into wisdom. There's some mind-bending logical analysis of fire and wood. It's hard to describe it but it's logical syllogisms that are so unusual and yet so obvious that stops the minds in its track like 'Wait, that's been going on the entire time.' 

In logic fire never touches wood. There is no fire inside wood, but also there is no fire outside of wood so you can't start a fire in mid-air. The two things appear to be connected and yet they're not entirely and yet they're not entirely unconnected. And it becomes a 'what came first: chicken or egg' analysis of the way we perceive things in the world. Well what does that have to do with prayers and mantras. Mantras don't work...if you chant to cure cancer and the cancer does go away, the chanting has long since ceased when the cancer is cured. And when you're Medicine Buddha chanting or praying to God... the cancer is still there. So -like fire and wood- there is no connection between the two and yet there is no complete separation. The two things never touch each other. And if they don't touch each other, how can one logically say that one thing influences another thing if they don't ever meet? And yet my mind creates the connection. The same thing with the seed and the plant. Two separate things. There is no exact point when a seed becomes a flower. One can never find the moment when what we define as a 'seed' suddenly becomes a 'flower.' And yet there seems to be a clear link between the two b/c flowers aren't popping out in mid-air. Flowers don't magically appear. And yet not all flower seeds become flowers. There is a magic ingredient or glue which connects cause-and-effect in our reality. 

Every single thing in the 'cause and effect' universe has this magical element b/c there is no direct connection between wood and fire, or seed and flower, or a child and their adult self. Something seems to happen. Even biologist agree that you replace every cell in your body within 7 yrs. There is no part of the visual image of me as a child that connects to middle-aged me now, and yet there 'appears' to be a connection because I'm able to recognize myself, others recognize me. Thus...it's all a mental image. Like flipping the pages of a cartoon flip book and getting a character that seems to be moving, our mental images operate like the individual pages of that flip book. Each mental seed paints an individual page and then there's another mental seed which activates 'the flipping' which connects the different moments in our reality together. We know this b/c when we lose that glue that connects moments together we lose our senses or have dementia or Alzheimers. When that continuity is knocked free it's like ripped pages falling out of a flip book and scattering on the ground. Each cartoon frame is a split second of reality glued together. So a fire never burns the wood, just like a child never becomes an adult. 

A mantra or prayer never touches the cancer or covid. Yet the activating ingredient is the deeds we do...that's what glues it together, that's what makes it possible for a prayer or mantra to be 'activated' from just a single cartoon cell to a series of actions that leads to covid being cured long after the mantra has stopped existing. 

I probably relistened to some of these classes while driving around 6 or 8 times. Then meditated on them at night. And still I am not doing it justice. 

https://www.theknowledgebase.com/en/nagarjuna-nov-2021/

Male Humility

At a certain age it becomes more important to 'feel right' than to 'be right.' The learning process stops and then it's about rhetorical tactics and tricks rather than expanding the mind. Although it's human nature, I have found this trait more pernicious in men. The male ego values being right more than learning because that intellectual growth requires flexibility and humility, two traits that are seen as more feminine. Softness, flowing like water, give and take, these are elements defined as passive. Learning is passive. "Education is pussy, bitch, fag, weak, lame." The class clown, the attention-seeking extroverted male teen is seeking to smash this softness and flexibility with braggart energy, distraction and -ultimately- challenging the authority. The male student who learns is a passive, a Chad, a sexual deviant for allowing themselves to be dominated. They are teased and mocked for listening instead of stealing attention. The big man on campus demands attention because it's about 'power in the now.' The only form of learning valued is that which will allow them to dominate and control space even more. 

I run three artists' groups. For the past several years, I have dedicated my time to helping other artists out in their various quests. For free. The process is about learning the dharma for myself and helping other people is the best way to increase the learning curve in my mind. I have found that there is a low percentage of success in my writers' groups. Maybe 10% go on to do something they wanted.  Most participants come in with a head of steam and fade away after a few months. But among the rare wins,  almost all of the cases involve women. 

Most of the adults willing to learn and humble themselves into growth are women. l meet tons of male artists who want to be rich, famous, successful, and fully booked. But they run up against an invisible wall. After a few weeks, a struggle begins to set in. It's an odd resistance because this isn't high school. No one is requiring them to learn and, yet, there is a great struggle within them. They struggle with changing their habits and, even deeper than that, they struggle with the belief that their habits are bad. Granted their habits are the very thing that have gotten them into the 'shit position.' Their habits and logic are the reason why they reach out for help. And yet, their habits are the same thing which prevent them from fully accepting help.  In particular, their male habits are set in how they define themselves as men: righteous, right, clever, strong, brave, unyielding, inflexible. They dwell in the narcissistic delusion of being the hero at the center of it all, even while drowning as boats pass them by. 

There is one participant who calls me 'kid.' He's older than me, less successful, less happy, stuck in a pattern of destructive negative habits. We have engaged in a relationship that is mostly one-sided for his benefit. He has requested help and I offer constructive workshop groups. These conversations must be undercut by establishing some dominance. So I'm a kid -a middle aged child apparently- and thus he is a full-grown man who is pretty much my same age. As the streets would say 'he's trying to son me.' I am aware of this 'need to dominate' and I let him have it. If calling me kid makes him feel good, then fine. But I don't think it's helpful for his actual learning process, because if you see me as a 'kid' there is some part of you which resists listening and learning. In Buddhism the student refer to their Lama with honorifics. A wise student wants to learn from their teacher. But a wise student also knows that the teacher has no nature from their own side. Whatever learning that happens comes from the seeds in their mind. Therefore it is CRITICALLY important to respect the teacher because you are respecting the wisdom you seek to gain. Respecting the teacher is respecting the process of growth and thus, you label the teacher with high rewards and accolades so that the knowledge grows within the mind. If you label someone helping you learn or grow as 'a kid' there is some dismissiveness in that. The learning is reduced, the knowledge is diminished. He drifts from the group, his progress stalls, he chases windmills of quick fixes. He is, of course, the smartest guy. A man among boys. Trying to undo this pattern of thinking is daunting. I'm sure the 'kid' thing is not malicious. In some ways it's a form of endearment. And yet, this behavior fits the pattern of so many men in these artists groups that represent the vast majority of failed cases. They can't learn. Their male ego is fixed in the cement of 'feeling right' and thus they can't get out of their own way. 

Gossip is another equalizing factor. If we can all bitch about the same thing then we are all equal. While this is true on the surface, sustained gossip just gets everyone to point the finger at the same villains. Small talk is useful way of warming up a conversation. How was your day...can you believe this weather...did you watch that episode...these are all natural ways of opening a dialogue. This is verbal stretching. The goal of stretching is to be loose enough to run the marathon and get into learning, get into the daily work, securing things. If you spend all your time stretching on the sidelines with gossip than you never run the race. You have worn the jacket, sweats, put on the headband, gotten the marathon number, the starter pistol is fired and you spend the next several hours chatting with the crowd. At the end of the day, the tent and starting line are packed up, the crowd disappears, and the gossiper is still stretching and talking about what a great race they ran. 

I was with a dharma person when I engaged in willful gossip. We were trying to rent a van. The clerk could not find our reservation. I noticed that the office radio was on to the sports channel. I engaged in light conversation about Tom Brady. The clerk perked up. A connection was made. He looked in his computer again and -will you look at that- he found our reservation. Magic it seems. When we left the office, my dharma brother asked why engaged in talking about sports. I told him 'because it was useful for getting the reservation.' Plus I'm not above an occasional indulgence. I'm not a strict adherent. Even I slip occasionally but in this case my small talk was aimed at forming a connection with this person who was not helping us. And all it took was a minute of conversation about something I actually enjoy -sports- to turn the situation around. 

The biggest thing is humility. I struggle with it. Some parts of me just wants to be right, just wants to be king, please no more notes or some corrections or yoga teacher repositions. Just say I'm wonderful and perfect and smart and flawless. But I also know that I won't grow with this attitude. Humility is the only thing which breaks the fever of delusion. 

Icarus on the 'Gram

Artists raised in the age of social media have this amazing practiced ability to deliver the eye-popping concept. They can give you the dazzling pitch, the action movie tagline, the instagrammable pic, the sizzling 2 sentences that make you think 'wow, I would love to see how they're going to pull THAT off.'  But much like ppl raised on thumbs-up and hashtags, things fall apart in the actual execution. An artist with an amazing concept and no actual plan becomes Icarus in flight: soaring higher and higher to their demise. As they fall they blame critics or audiences or the stage or the lighting, but their wings were made out of a shimmering, dazzling wax. They fall again and again, never trying to learn storytelling skills b/c it's easier to move on to the next sexy tagline than to develop actual craft.

In the past, the one exception to the rule was Hollywood. An Icarus could go out to Hollywood and live for years off of selling pitches. And as each concept melted underneath the demands of an actual script, they would get a lovely parachute. You could fall for years, switching over to different parachutes. When I was in college I interned at a major agency and at 2 studios which I will not name. I saw execs grumble about hacks not having an ounce of talent and then turn around and hand these maligned hacks a six-figure deal and Deadline article b/c...that hack was the new Icarus. Maybe their failure parachutes could be painted to look like wings, maybe the waxy combination of bragging, ego, and publicity will hold out under the glare of the sun. 

On my first day as a studio intern, I was handed the 'next big thing.' The packaging was there, the emerging hot talent was there, the concept was killer. I greedily read the script thinking I was getting my hands on the next Apocalypse Now. The actual story was an empty shell. I returned the next day and gave my very guarded, constructive, polite criticism and...I was told I was a fool. Of course the movie was going to be a hit: look at the packaging. I told them people don't flock to movies for the packaging. That's like people buying a car because of the hood ornament. If there's no engine, the manufacturer will be exposed. But the packaging, the marketing, the sizzle. During my internships I heard that a lot. Oh, you don't know how these wax wings work: 99% of the time the projects would come crashing back to earth, careers ruined, studios sold, houses mortgaged on a concept. 

I wish there could be some honest discussion of craft that separates the two different areas: concept and execution. If you can't execute, you shouldn't be able to hide behind concept. There are so many people riding on the wings of stories. It's not just the storyteller. But the crew, the actors, lives and jobs are all trying to fly. But they fall too when the work hasn't been done. 

My Commencement Speech

If you're a gorgeous 20-something... get you some ugly friends. B/c their reality is your future. You need to prepare for a time when you're not getting all the world's favors. Now I'm not saying these friends need to be butt ugly. But they need to be avg enough that they've had to a) develop layered personality b) have some shrewd sense of how to operate in the world c) been mistreated enough that they have thicker skin d) have perseverance and know how to bounce back from the world judging them by their book cover. We all get less attractive as time goes on, but do you have a beauty retirement plan? As I get older I'm meeting more and more former playboys and faded hotties who are bitter, confused, and totally unprepared for not getting the free drink from the bartender and the extra guac on their taco. They didn't have a beauty retirement plan, and it's rough out there. Bikini cute is just a short minute. But the future always belongs to the plain-looking, middle child wearing boxers and New Balance sneakers. Look at Silicon Valley, look at DC, look at who runs the world. It isn't Fabio.

Buffalo Shooting and Times of Slaughter

 It's no one's fault but it keeps happening. I was looking for some way to wrap my head around a white teenager driving across town to kill 11 mostly elderly blk women and men (grandparents in the 90s and 80s) who were shopping. And to do this under the banner of an untrue racist battlecry promoted by Fox while seeking to erase black history as 'critical race theory' and a harmful toxin to white kids. The same white kids who have walked into church basements and killed black people praying, walked into mosques and temples and shot Muslims and Jewish worshippers, the same white teens who livestream shooting senior citizens in the back of the head b/c they think they're the real victims of American history, and they're oh so sensitive so can you please not talk about slavery or the civil rights movement or black inequalities or racism. Please don't talk about it and let them gun your 90 year-old grandmother down, who marched and fought, and struggled to die in a hail of bullets from a white teen livestreaming the carnage like it's a video game. 

It's no one's fault but it keeps happening so we'll keep saying these racist things and deleting your history and they'll keep killing old people in churches and stores and nothing can be done about. We can't stop them from owning assault rifles or hating or saying absolute bullshit or feeling like they're being picked on by facts and history. Kyle Rittenhouse is a hero. He killed 3 and got a book deal and is now on his way to being a future Congressman. It's no one's fault. He just couldn't help himself when he drove across state lines with weapons of war.

I go to art during these times. I'm looking for something timely and/or timeless in its catharsis. Something immediate but immortal. And what I have found is art that is both disposable, rootless, and not worthy of either the present or the future. How many times can I see ghetto black families held up for white cackles while 11 elderly blks lie dying in a pool of blood by white nationalists? How many riffs on making slavery trendy and contemporary and sitcom-ish can I see while actual slave history is being deleted from history books as harmful to white kids?

How can so much of what I see be cotton candy art that melts at the touch and leaves nothing but the residue of something sweet and buzzy, and during these times? During these times of war and mass shootings, and slaughter is there not one play which actually talk about the thing that is happening now or the things have been happening for hundreds of years? How about the ghetto white family that is a threat to civilization and delicate tastes of their white son who likes jazz or rap music?  How about the white nationalists? Or the teen with the assault rifle? Too heavy? Nothing to sink your teeth into for laughs? I guess the art scene is no one's fault but it keeps happening. 

It's no one's fault because we keep saying it's no one's fault and that's not a start of a conversation but it's the end of a very short dialogue that goes gunshots, thoughts and prayers, move on because nothing can be done about it because we have decided that nothing will be done, and that's the historical loop we feel comfortable with because it's more stressful to change than to continue erasing your existence on the page and on the streets. 

Interviewing Sisyphus

How much were you earning at your peak?

$40-50,000 a month after taxes.

So about half a million after taxes?

For about 7 or 8 years.

Mulitple shows?

No, it was just one show that ran for a long time.

And what happened?

It's gone. I spent it all.

On what?

Stupid stuff. First class tickets, real estate.

Next time you'll make smarter investments in things like drugs and alcohol.

Yeah, I was firing agents. I was awful. And you don't ever think things will change when you get like that. And then...

Yes, and then...