It's December 31st yet again, and I find myself once again rethinking my New Year's rituals and traditions--I love recognizing the changing of the guard,  as it were, but don't like to put too  much pressure on myself to transcend old habits or the previous year. In the past, I have had the tendency to take this time of year a bit too seriously. I've made lists, diagrammed plans to start reading more, exercising every day, transforming my life one area at a time. Sometimes this worked, sometimes it didn't, and in the end, the assessment of the previous year's progress became nearly as complicated as the initial resolutions.

This year, I'm trying something different. Instead of making a list of several resolutions, I am going to try a single change and experiment with how it affects the rest of my life.  I'm inspired by past changes that have involved diet, exercise, and even sleep--make one change and it's astounding the ripple effects it can have on all areas of your life. Here goes nothing. 

For my first New Year's Experiment (please forgive me if I sound like a magician), I've decided to take a year long break from Facebook. That's right, folks. I'm saying see you next year to the land of digital friendship and striking out into the unknown forests of real life. Before you roll your eyes, or warn me that I will feel too distanced from the world and all that I love in it, hear me out. 

The idea struck me when I visited Orchard House earlier this year, where Louisa May Alcott penned Little Women. The tour guide showed us Alcott's room and desk where she wrote her famous novel telling us that "Louisa May Alcott was able to write the book in just three short months--how did she do it so fast? Part of her secret was writing up to fourteen hours a day. But the other secret to her success? Not having Facebook or Twitter." I laughed along with the rest of the tour group at the bad joke, but immediately recognized the truth here.

Besides all the common arguments for taking a social media break, I specifically want to experiment with the effects of a social media fast on my creativity. Yes, there are some pretty big creative goals I have this year.  I want to produce my new play Big Work. I want to finish my book I've been writing for the last two years. But I am also curious to see what happens when I write in my journal on the train instead of scrolling through my newsfeed, or breathe backstage at a show instead of posting a selfie of myself in costume.  I'll be blogging as usual, and new blogs will automatically be posted to Facebook and Twitter, so you can still find things on my pages there. 

Maybe I'll fail at this or maybe I'll hate it. That's ok. Experiments are just that---experimental. A year is actually quite short in the grand scheme of things, and I want to see what happens when I try this at least once. This experiment also appeals to the actor in me. It relates to the "Magic If" question that drives me when I create a character or explore a scene onstage.

What if I get to see the world differently? What if I get to grow even closer to the people I love? What if I see what it feels like to  be more present? What if I get a glimpse of what Louisa May Alcott felt when she let herself be consumed by her passion? What if I hate it? What if I feel isolated from stepping away from this well-formed habit of mine? Regardless of what I find, at the end of the next twelve months, I will have new information about myself and the way I relate to the world. And new information is a good thing. Nothing to lose, so onward I go. 

This New Year's, rather than give yourself marching orders for resolutions, why not try your own experiment? Life is so temporary and our own creativity is such a mystery, so why not dare to do something different than what we've done in the past? 

What's your "Magic If" question this year? Whatever it is, I wish you a bright and peaceful New Year filled with the inspiration to do something you've always dreamed of doing. 

New Year's Round-Up of Guest Blog Posts of Mine Elsewhere:

My lovely friend Alyssa Franklin runs Learn Through the Arts, a fantastic site exploring her journey as a teaching artist, and she was kind enough to let me guest post this fall: http://www.learnthroughthearts.com/blog/creative-conspirator-melissa-bergstrom

If you haven't seen it yet, check out my guest post on The Gift of Creative Community over at Jess Pillmore's brilliant site, Creativity Independent. 

My blog post Creative Contingencies: Making Peace With My Day Job(s) was named one of 2015's most shared blog posts at Howlround. A fabulous piece of news to get before the New Year!

​A dear professor of mine from college once told me not to pursue a role or a play unless I was "scared half to death of it". She told it to me during my senior year of college, and reminded me again in my mid-twenties when my artistic life was at a crossroads and I was afraid to make a big move. She reminded me again this week, when I wrote to her asking for advice on casting my first full length play with my own theatre company. 
 
I share this advice with you now, knowing how deeply it has sank into my ever present fear, softening it over time ever so slightly. I share with you, in hopes that you too, might carry it around like a worry stone, and over time, feel the sharp edges of your own fear and doubt begin to wear away a bit as well. I share it so that we, humanity, can collectively move forward DESPITE fear and pursue and enjoy whatever personal or creative project we see on the horizon.
 
As a child, I felt so much fear and let it stop me from doing things I loved. Terrified of bees, I would abandon my rollerblades or bicycle if I heard one buzzing around my face. I would run indoors and spend the rest of the afternoon inside. I hated shots, the dentist, swallowing medicine, and spent so much time in advance anticipating the pain, the fear, the resistance. I was afraid to wear a new pink hat to school, not because I didn't love it, but because I was fearful of what the other kids would say. I was afraid to leave my hometown for college--what if it was too hard to be away from home? 
 
Even in the midst of these fearful years, I did have courage in small ways--mostly creative courage. When I was in eighth grade, I marched into the chorus teacher's office despite not knowing her at all and not being a singer, and asked if I could sing "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera for her. I wanted to pursue music and theatre so badly and was looking for permission to go for it. Bless that teacher for having the kindness to tell an out of tune, untrained thirteen year old that yes, she could sing and she should definitely join the chorus if she wanted to. This was one of the first times in  my life that I saw that doing something really scary could lead to new experiences that I eventually couldn't imagine living without. It was enough for me to try again.
 
I started auditioning for choir, for the school musical, and eventually helped co-found a spring play with my best friend in high school. Little by little, performance gave me a way to practice being brave. Not fearless, but someone who went for it in spite of the gnawing fear inside her.
 
I was scared half to death when I marched into the Dean of the Theatre Department's office at college and switched my major to Theatre Performance a year and a half into an Elementary Education program. 

I was scared half to death when I graduated and realized that New York City was not going to come to me and make me a success--I had to forge my own path by myself.
 
I was scared half to death when I moved to a small city in Virginia in my twenties and put up fliers for anyone who was interested in co-founding a small all female theatre company with me. 
I was scared half to death when a wonderful young woman answered my call for help.
 
I was scared half to death when I decided to move to Boston to attend Emerson College. I had only ridden a subway a handful of times in my life and was afraid of my own shadow. 
 
I was scared half to death when I accepted my current job in the arts, because I've never had a day job in my field before and I wasn't sure what it would do to the balance of my personal/work/artistic life.
 
Instead of letting that fear control you and banish you back to your safe corner of the world, why not try using that fear as a clue? What if fear is a compass, trying to tell you where you should go next? Maybe fear is our own way of realizing that we've come upon a project, an opportunity, a chance that deserves our attention. Now, whenever I think of a vacation I want to take, a play I want to write, or a new hobby I want to try, I try to pay attention. With the exception of foolishly putting myself in physical danger, I now see fear as an invitation to try something new, something I really want to do. And when we really go for something that we've always wanted to try, there's no predicting the ripple effects of a choice like that. We might evolve into a new version of ourselves, glimpse a clearer vision of what our life could be. Anything could be waiting for us.
 
Think of a time when you felt afraid to move to a new city or put yourself out there at a job interview. Remember the time you did karaoke or got that really short haircut that you didn't know you would like. You did all these things (I did all these things) and although fear was there, everything turned out ok. You probably even felt joy because you did them. You've done these brave things before and you can do them again. 
 
Do you really want to write a novel? Are you terrified? The fear is a great sign--you should do it. Are you interested in learning how to play the violin? Afraid of being terrible at it? Go for it. Whatever it is that keeps nagging at you to try, consider trying it. Life is so temporary. The next time you feel half scared to death at the thought of something, experiment with what might happen if you walked right towards it and let yourself dive in?
 

I love to read and I love reading about creativity, so I thought I would write a short blog ode to five of my favorite books on the creative process in hopes that they might inspire you as well! I've had some of these books for over a decade, and some for just a few weeks, but I've paged through their pages over and over again for bits of wisdom and encouragement. For me, books have always felt like old friends, and these books are like old friends who never fail to encourage me to keep going with a project, with my day job, and with living in general. 

Here goes:

1. The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo: This  book has sold 2 million copies, and I waited six months for it on the library hold list before I got my  hands on a copy. It's big idea is to declutter and organize your house in a single sweep. The big question that Kondo encourages you to ask again and again when tidying is: "Does it spark joy?" 

I was a skeptic, but did the entire tidying process outlined in the book this weekend and last and have felt my apartment and peace of mind transform. After donating, throwing away and recycling nearly 20 bags (and that's just a small city apartment folks), I felt lighter. My space looked cleaner, but the true difference I've noticed has been  in my focus. I have always had a hard time sitting down to write, to read, or even to watch a movie without thinking about the small series of messes that I had in various rooms, closets, and drawers. This morning, I sat down and wrote two scenes for my play I'm working on and answered several emails, all while sitting in  my newly cleaned artist den, which now feels inspiring instead of chaotic. Success.


2. The Alpine Path: The Story of My Career by Lucy Maud Montgomery: The author of Anne of Green Gables writes a very brief (96 page) account of her career, which she refers to as a "long, uphill struggle through many quiet, uneventful years." Her honestly and authenticity is so refreshing, and while she does look upon her life as a creative journey full of joys, she doesn't sugarcoat her various day jobs, waking up at dawn to write before her days as a teacher, or personal struggles. 

The whole book is lovely, but it's the end that gets me every time. Maud tells us "We must follow our "airy voices," follow them through bitter suffering and discouragement and darkness, through doubt and disbelief, through valleys of humiliation, and over delectable hills where sweet things would lure us from our quest, ever and always we must follow, if we would reach the "far-off divine event" and look out thence to the aerial spires of our City of Fullfillment." Trust me,  it's well worth a read. 


3. Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert: As a Liz Gilbert fan, most people I know are never surprised to hear me quote this wise and wonderful author and speaker. A dear friend sent me a copy of her newest book in the mail this summer, and I read it in a weekend. If you are looking to get your butt kicked into creative gear, look no further. Short essays and plenty of humor comprise this creative manifesto that is chock full of essay titles such as "Hard Labor vs. Fairy Dust", "Elk Talk", and "Hungry Ghosts". The book isn't just aimed at artists, but anyone looking for more magic and creativity in their daily life. 

One of my favorite quotes from her on persistence: “We must understand that the drive for perfectionism is a corrosive waste of time, because nothing is ever beyond criticism. No matter how many hours you spend attempting to render something flawless, somebody will always be able to find fault with it. (There are people out there who still consider Beethoven’s symphonies a little bit too, you know, loud.) At some point, you really just have to finish your work and release it as is — if only so that you can go on to make other things with a glad and determined heart. Which is the entire point. Or should be.”


4. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron: Originally published in 1992 and often considered one of the most essential books on creativity, my copy (gifted by my best friend over a decade ago) is dog eared, beat up, and well loved. The book guides you through a 12 week course to recover a sense of safety, inspiration and courage in your creative life. Even though Cameron is a professional actress, writer, playwright, and filmmaker herself (she was married to Martin Scorcese a while back), she make it clear that creativity does not equal pay, a full time job, or permission from anyone else. 

The book is full of suggested activities, such as a daily solo walk, a weekly artist date, and daily Morning Pages, where you journal in a stream of consciousness style to unearth your hidden creative desires and longings. It's a dramatic endorsement, but this book is responsible for me attending Emerson College, founding my theatre company, and a host of other small daily joys that feed my creative soul. You can get your hands on a copy on Amazon for nearly nothing, so go on--do it! 

A favorite quote: “Focused on process, our creative life retains a sense of adventure. Focused on product, the same creative life can feel foolish or barren.” 
​

5. Free For All: Joe Papp, The Public, and the Greatest Theater Story Ever Told by Kenneth Turan & Joseph Papp:  This book is a phenomenal account of the founding of The Public Theater in New York City, most famously known for it's free Shakespeare in the Park each summer in Central Park. Written in the form of personal remembrances from  figures such as Kevin Kline, Christopher Walken, Colleen Dewhurst, Meryl Streep, and Joseph Papp himself,  the book takes you through the early years of the theater rehearsing in church basements to its days touring the NYC boroughs to perform Shakespeare for free for audiences who had never even seen a play before. 

To say this inspires me every day as someone who runs a small theatre company is an understatement. Papp's commitment to providing free Shakespeare to the people of NYC still holds fast today, even after his death. He believed that theatre was a necessary part of the cultural life of the city and should be treated as such in regards to funding and accessibility. 

One of my favorite quotes: “In the general scale of things, certainly it’s important to take care of basic necessities… But part of the spiritual life of the city is its art, its plays, so you are creating a false distinction. I always used to say that Shakespeare should be as important as garbage collection, and I liked having a line on the budget that was close to things that were necessities to the city…. That’s what I think art should be: part of the city, part of everday life.”

Tell me, what are some of your go-to creative reads? I'd love to hear and add them to my ever-growing list :)