​I shamelessly stole this idea from the radically honest and creative Elizabeth Gilbert and have found it enormously helpful when an artistic project looms and I start feeling the dread approaching. You know the feeling I'm talking about? Your stomach starts doing flip flops, your appetite wanes, and those jittery butterflies start to nest in your chest. Fear. Panic. Anxiety. And the worst part is, it feels like the more you fight it, the more it hunkers down and settles in for the long haul. How can one human dream of defeating such a force of feeling?

As someone that struggles with anxiety on a daily basis, and not just in a creative sense, these waves of worry that wash over me feel like they have the ability to take me under completely. It feels like emotionally and spiritually drowning, with enough physical symptoms to make you seriously question whether or not you will make it through. 

Enter Elizabeth Gilbert's brilliant suggestion--which again, I am stealing. That's what artists do, right? 

In various interviews and in her latest book Big Magic (which if you haven't read, run to your local bookstore now and grab a copy), she talks about the power of granting yourself a permission slip to be creative and to live your life as YOU. Liz, as I like to call her, describes the feeling that I have had so often--feeling a desire to  write a play, teach a class, cut my hair, wear red lipstick, anything new and appealing---and yet feeling like I'm waiting for someone to tell me I can do any and all of these things. She says that we seek a permission slip from an "adult" granting us the opportunity to take these leaps.  

But who are we waiting for? We are not 1st graders anymore, waiting for our mom to write us a note to be excused from school for a doctor's appointment. We are big people with big dreams and big fears and we have the right and I would argue, the responsibility, to turn these things into action and be the you that you are meant to be, living the life you want to lead. Lead. That's the key word here. We don't have to follow someone else's prescription for our life---it's time to stop waiting for permission. It's time to stop trying to outrun the dread and the worry and face the fear.

How does one do this, you ask? Well, Liz goes on to argue that we must give ourselves permission to not only take action steps, but to be still and accept the tidal wave of big emotions that we are feeling right at this moment. And perhaps, somewhere in this surrender, we will find a teeny tiny slice of peace that will allow us to move forward despite the fear. 

The exercise she suggests is simple and powerful. Take a few post-it notes and write "I give myself permission..." on each one. Then fill in the blanks with whatever you are feeling. 

Scared.
Uncertain.
Relieved.
Frustrated.
Joyful.

Writing your feelings on paper really do help to break the hold they have on you. It's also vital to realize that there is no such thing as a "wrong" feeling. In fact, the more we deny the feeling, the stronger it usually gets. Emotions need to be felt to be processed and only after allowing feelings to be felt can we move through and forward. 

My permission slips are above. I tried to include both "dark" and "light" feelings because I often find that as hard as it is to accept fear, it's also incredibly difficult for me to accept that I feel joy about something. It's almost as if I feel guilt about being excited when I'm also nervous. As if blocking joy would make the fear go away.  Instead, what happens if we try to allow it all?

​Believe me, I have tried to outrun my emotions and find that whenever I am running from something, whatever it is, that something is going to keep chasing me. It has never-ending stamina and will not get bored with the pursuit. But when I let myself stop sprinting and turn around to face whatever I'm fearing, it can't chase me anymore. You can't be chased if you're not running. This exercise allows you to stop running and to name what you feel. This is the first step in gaining some ground and being your own permission slip writer. 

I'm starting to teach a college theatre course next month and am feeling all the big feelings. Doing this exercise for this new chapter has already helped me to articulate what I am feeling (and fearing) and work on accepting that these feelings are part of me and I don't have to make them go away or fear them. And something about welcoming these feelings helps them to be less bothersome and more just one part of the whole picture. 

In this way, I can recognize and accept that anxiety and excitement can co-exist and I don't have to eradicate one in order to feel the other. In fact, if we as artists and humans are waiting to all to be well before we resume living and creating, we might just be waiting forever. 

My creative challenge to you is to write yourself a permission slip (or two or five), take a photo, and post it on social media with the hashtag #creativepermissionslip. I would love to see what you come up with!

Looking for more resources on not fighting anxiety and fear? Check out the Anxiety Coaches Podcast's recent episode "Floating With Anxiety" that discusses how to stop thrashing and fighting your feelings and float instead. 

​I am taking a few days off from my day job this coming week and thought it would be a good time to take a breather from blogging and social media while I'm at it, just for a bit of a recharge. I have been reading more and more about the need for artists to a break and want to give myself some solid time to disconnect from technology, read a book or two that have been calling my name, and generally rest up after a full summer. 

Before I sign off until next weekend, I thought I would leave you with a sense of what I'm reading, watching, listening to, and eating! Eating is a new category for me to share on the blog, but it's a huge part of my practice to try to stay healthy and maintain a sustainable creative life.

What I'm Reading: I just finished Atonement by Ian McEwan this week (second read through) and was reminded of why I think it may be my favorite book. Each line is like poetry and the story, set in the British countryside during WWII, is like a punch in the gut.  Read it. You'll love it.  It's also a pretty good adaptation in film form, with the gorgeous Keira Knightley and James McAvoy, and Saoirse Ronan. 

​What I'm Watching: Admitted, I've been reading more than watching things lately, but I have been indulging in old episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm with Larry David.  Anyone else excited about the new season coming out this fall?

​What I'm Listening To: I have had Jason Isbell's Nashville Sound album on repeat since it came out in June.  If you haven't heard his music yet, it's a beautiful, blend of Americana, southern rock, and country, but it's unlike anything you have ever heard. His latest album speaks to the current political climate in a way that is bold and subtle and I can't say enough about it. One of my favorite tracks, Chaos and Clothes, is below:

What I'm Eating: As you might recall, I tend to follow a Paleo/Autoimmune Protocol blueprint when it comes to food, and it is so helpful in keeping  my psoriasis under control and helping me to feel my best. Though I'm feeling under the weather today, luckily my appetite is still going strong, and this recipe by the lovely Jo Romero is on my menu this weekend: Crispy Italian Chicken Burger Stack

Wishing you a restorative week, whatever that means for you! 

 ​If a future generation, a million years from now, finds a log of my life, they will discover that on Day 12,453 I did something I have never done before: stand up comedy. 

"I didn't know you were a stand-up comedian", you might say. "I didn't even know you were interested!" 

I wasn't a stand-up comedian nor was I ever interested in being one. But I have performed stand up comedy as of last night and I am very interested in doing it again.

You see, I didn't realize any of this before I finished writing my book on creativity. The book was a wholehearted project for me, but admittedly after nearly four years of working on the book in some form, I was ready to be done. The book was taking up so much space in my brain that other creative projects got locked out. When I finished the book, it's as if a creative dam broke. Inspiration! Curiosities! Ideas! 

When my creative dam broke, the urge to do stand-up comedy was there, clear as day. I started to tell myself I couldn't. "But why?" a small voice answered back." I didn't have a good reason why I couldn't try it. Especially after using Google to see if open mic nights were even a thing for comedy (oh, the lies we tell ourselves to keep our dreams at bay). There were a bunch in Boston. 

My timeline from random thought to last night's performance went like this:

The day after I finished the book, the idea popped into my head. "I want to perform stand-up!"

I looked up open mic comedy nights in Boston and found one that offers newbies two minutes to show the bar what you've got.

Over the course of a couple of days, I wrote a two minute set.

Over the course of three weeks, I memorized it, edited it, rehearsed it, and edited it some more.

Last night, I showed up at the bar and added my name to the sign up list. 

​When my name was called, I fought my shaky hands to hold the mic and perform what I had written. A million thoughts raced through my brain.

You are the odd one out. Everyone else knows each other here. 
Your curly hair looks frizzy.
Your are wearing a striped dress with red sneakers. You look ridiculous.
Your jokes aren't funny. 
You will fail. You can never come back to this bar again. 

It wasn't easy to do, but it actually was a lot more realistic than I thought once you make a list and follow the steps. I'm not saying following the steps gets you a standing ovation or slam dunk set, but it does get you up on that stage. My ultimate goal was not to be good or get a paid gig out of it or even be complimented after the set by other comics. It was to go and do it.

And doing it felt glorious. I'm planning to do it again and explore even more of the life of being an actor with a day job onstage through comedy. Goodness knows I have a lot of material. 

A few weeks ago, Dave and I sat next to two young women on the subway. I overheard one of the young women talking about doing some stand-up. "I'm just going to do it. If I bomb, I bomb." Her friend agreed to come along with her for support and they would make a whole evening out of it. It was really sweet to overhear, and at the time, seemed fitting to hear as well, since it was around the time I had gotten my own urge to perform.

Guess who I saw at the open mic night? The young woman. And her friend. With plates full of pub food, sitting close to each other during dinner and the comedy sets that followed. I felt so intimidated at first. What if she was better than me? What if she was looking at me, wondering what right I had to be there? All these thoughts left me when the young woman took the stage, visibly nervous. I didn't see an enemy at all, but an ally. I saw a younger me, terrified but doing it anyway. I wonder if it's possible to be proud of a young woman you don't know, save for a shared ride on the train?
​
This unexpected experience led me to realize that one of my favorite parts about being at the open mic night turned out to be energy to the other comics when it was their turn. I'm not saying you laugh if something doesn't strike you as funny, but rather being fully present as an audience member. 

Being an audience member is not a static role. Each and every audience member gives off an energy to the performer that is palpable when you are onstage. It's like electricity. You can feel it keenly. Energy can be, well, energizing, or it can shut off the vulnerability and support in a room completely. I couldn't control what kind of energy the audience was giving when I was onstage (though I tried to make eye contact and remain open, inviting good energy my way), but I had full control over the kind of energy that I gave when the tables were reversed and I was in the audience.

How does one give supportive energy, you ask? For me, the following go a long, long way when I'm performing:

Eye contact
A relaxed smile
An attitude of "I want to see you succeed" as opposed to "I am waiting to see you fail"
Open body language--facing the stage, arms uncrossed, hands relaxed

If you aren't convinced, think of the last time you performed (or interviewed or had a business meeting) with someone who was giving you bad energy. Were their arms crossed, their eyes in their Smartphone, a frown on their face? You can notice this in so many different scenarios, and once you start noticing what makes you feel supported and what shuts you right down, you will be on your way to making sure that you don't do that to someone else.

Pick something you want to do. It can be something that you have always wanted to do or something that you had never wanted to do before now. Feel the fear rush in, don't fight it. Now, make a list of all the steps that you need to do in order to make it to your version of open mic night. Again, feel the fear. It's not going to go away while you write your list. But it doesn't get added to the list. Fear is a given in these kinds of quests. Focus on tangible action steps. Again, I'm not saying this is easy, but if I can do it, you can definitely do it!

After you make your list, do it. I dare you. Regardless of what happens, you will step off that stage knowing in your gut that you did something you really wanted to do, which is a big deal. You will go to bed that night knowing that you did something that you really wanted to do, AND did it with the fear at your throat the whole time. This is an even bigger deal. Being fearless is not just overrated, it's impossible. Being fearFUL and flinging yourself forward anyway is where the magic happens. 

What do YOU want to do?

I remember being terrified of bees as a kid. Summer afternoons morphed from lazy to terrifying as I would spot a bee buzzing around me and run inside the house, refusing the desperate calls of my mother to stay outside and play in the sunshine. But I couldn't stay. I couldn't risk getting stung. Little did I know that honey bees actually die after stinging a person. Looking back, it seemed a bit selfish to be afraid of something whose life was so short. What I also didn't realize is that my name, Melissa, means honey bee in Greek. Looking back, it feels fitting that the thing I was most afraid of was, linguistically speaking, myself. 

As a six year old, I didn't understand why bees existed at all. Honestly, I wished long and hard for bees and spiders and beetles and all insects for that matter to simply disappear. I didn't have any sense of the existence and importance of an ecosystem until being much older. Thus, I didn't know that our ability to live in the world depends on a very delicate ecosystem, one that is not only build on warm and fuzzy creatures like cats and dogs and bunnies, but on not so lovable creatures like insects, porcupines, and yes, bees.

I am still blown away when I learn about the interconnectedness of every living thing on the planet. If you look at bees specifically, it is estimated that there are about 25,000 different bee species in the world. These tiny creatures may seem insignificant, but it is also estimated that without their ability to pollinate the countless different plants on earth, human beings would lose up to a third of the food staples we have grown to rely on. A THIRD of food staples we rely on. Think about that. No more almonds, peaches, plums, or cherries. And it's not simply a hardship of not having the piece of fruit we want to eat. Less food variety for human beings not only means a less diverse diet, but without bees' help, farmers would not be able to grow as many crops. Less crops means food prices at the grocery store rise. And rising costs could have endless ripple effects on the economy. And on an aesthetic note? Countless flowers that make our world a more beautiful place and our ecosystem even richer couldn't survive. All this from the seemingly teeny tiny bee. lCan we still wish that the bees would disappear? 

As it is with each part of our ecosystem, from the elephants to the ants, so it is with the creative ecosystem as well. Sure, we adore the genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton may secretly wish to all be able to strike it just as successful. But what if we got our wish? What if we all got to be that big? Is that sustainable? What gets lost in the process? Just as if all the bees could suddenly turn into giraffes, what would happen if community based artists like you and me suddenly saw no need for art making at the grassroots level? If we refused to play a theatre with 25 seats and demanded stadium sized audiences instead? Let that sink in. Think about how much would be different, lost. 

We need Broadway. We need regional theatres. We also need artists working in small basements and clubs and churches and libraries. We need Lin-Manuel Miranda. And we need YOU. 

Let me be clear. I'm not talking about playing small, limiting yourself, or talking yourself out of a really big creative risk. We are human after all, and because we are human, we are capable of evolving. You should be dreaming big, be willing to expand, and be eager to transform. But regardless of where you find yourself at this very moment or at some moment in the future, just know that you are making work that matters RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE. Work that matters to you and that matters in the bigger creative ecosystem that we are all a part of.

Never underestimate your role in the creative ecosystem. If you ever find yourself doubting your own ability to make magic, stop and think of the bee. Easy to miss, but crucial for us to go on living, and responsible for the kind of beauty that makes that living worth it. 

Be the bee.