Zen Assistant – Appreciate The Present and How Far You’ve Come

When I first moved to Los Angeles, I thought I’d need a year to “break-in” as a writer. Two years, tops, if I was unlucky (never mind how long and arduous the road is for even great film makers and writers). I was going to be the special case (note to self: the idea we can all be”special” is contradictory to the definition.)

I was willing to work for it, though. I decided to devote all my energy to writing. I didn’t even bother to fully settle into my apartment. Instead, I slept on an air mattress, with a sleeping bag, for the first few months.

My logic: if, God forbid, I wasn’t a working writer in Los Angeles after the first year, was I planning on sticking around anyway? So I wrote, all the time, constantly trying to produce the next great American screenplay.

Eventually I bought a bed. Three months later, I even bought sheets to cover it. But I never let go of the idea to:

1. Focus all my energy on writing and being a working writer in Hollywood
2. Everything else was superfluous.

 

That’s what I did. My schedule was broken down to three types of activities:

1. Writing
2. Scheduled breaks to eat and to read, because I needed to refuel my body and mind to write more
3. Breaks to go work and to go intern, because I needed money to keep writing 

 

Everything beyond this was a distraction.

I don’t look back and regret this single-minded focus. I’m glad I experienced that deep immersion. But I can also say, that period in my life wasn’t a happy one. Towards the end, in April 2012 or so, I was on the verge of breaking down, and probably at my lowest point since moving to Los Angeles.

(For the people who took my frantic phone calls around this time, thank you!)

When I think about that low point today,  it’s difficult to imagine. Because less than 18 months later, I’ve never been happier, or more optimistic about the future. There’s still much to do, but at the same time, I can pause and appreciate what I’ve accomplished already.

 

What Changed?

It’s not that I’ve slowed down, per se. The work pace is the same. In the aggregate, I’m still cramming a ton into my schedule.

In the individual moments, however, I’ve slowed. I take the time to appreciate the moment, for its own merit. They are not distractions to the work, strategically placed and designed as refreshers from the keyboard. They are endeavors in their own right.

The lens I’m viewing non-work activities is no longer: “this is a mental break from writing.” Not to say it isn’t a break. It’s not its sole purpose, however. There’s value in and of the act itself.

I remember reading some book on everyday Zen or Buddhism that used the example of eating a peach to describe this outlook (the title escapes me). To paraphrase “don’t anticipate eating the peach, while running errands or making a meal. When you anticipate the future, you’re no longer in the present. Otherwise, when it’s time to eat the peach, instead of enjoying its flavor, your mind will be elsewhere, imagining the future.

 

How I Apply This Lesson

Isn’t so much in eating peaches, but my activities throughout the day.

I call these, “Life’s Gyrations.” Here’s are four of Life’s Gyrations, and how my mindset around them has slowly shifted this past year:

Dishes
No one enjoys doing dishes, right? Do I leap out of bed at the idea of washing plates? No (if you do, low self-esteem may possibly be the least of your worries).  

However, I do take a lot of pride in keeping a clean and neat apartment. I’m particular. Everything in its proper place. There’s rhyme and reason as to why the mugs go where, and how I’ve stacked the plates.

Realizing how much I appreciated this order in my life slowed down the process of dish washing for me. I look at the bowls and the pots and the mugs and they remind me, “this home, the things in it, the chipped plates and utensil set we bought off of Craigslist, Amy and I put this together. It’s all part of of our story and the life we’re creating, and I’m happy I have that in my life.”

Cooking
A year ago, this was my cooking process:

1. Make huge pot of spaghetti
2. Pour Prego (the kind out of the plastic bottle, not the can) on top
3. Add cheese – none of that organic, good-bacteria-shit, either. The processed slices of American worked just fine 
4. Eat
5. Repeat 3 times, or until the pot of spaghetti ran out. 

 

Or:

1. Order pizza
2. Pick up pizza
3. Eat

 

Now… well, I won’t pretend I’m some master-freaking-chef, who can make a bouillabaisse and other words I don’t actually know, but sound French. But do I enjoy cooking more? Definitely.

I enjoy the the whole process : walking to the grocery store on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, picking out my foods, carrying them back to the apartment, trying out simple recipes, prepping, trying to get the timing right, eating, cleaning.

A big part my newfound appreciation for cooking is understanding, “hey, not everything I make is going to taste like Ming Tsai. Maybe today it’ll just taste like Chris Ming, and that’s okay. That’s how you get better, so after 10 years of practice, I’m going to be killing it in the kitchen.”

Food, and gathering people around food, is important in my family, and by appreciating the process of cooking now (versus looking at a meal as simply a way to refuel and get back to work) I know I’ll be able to contribute to that tradition.

Exercise
I used to rush through workouts. I wanted to get it over and done with, as soon as possible, and would begrudgingly stomp off to do push-ups, sit-ups, and kettlebell swings. What I wanted was that “I-worked-out-feeling,” and in the process I glossed over the part where I actually appreciated parts of a workout: the physical action of doing something with your body (versus sitting at a desk all day), exerting yourself past what you thought was physically capable, the familiar quiver in your muscles as you complete a set, like you’re unsure if you’ll be able to hold yourself up afterwards.

All those great feelings had vanished in lieu of the “I-should-be-working” feeling, until recently, when I lifted with a friend. He showed me how to bring creativity back into working out. He had an elementary workout set and space about the size of my kitchen, but he ran me through two full circuits across a diverse range of motions — as diverse as if I had access to a full gym.

He explained, “It’s okay when you start out, if you don’t have a lot of equipment. Be creative and find different ways to make the workout harder for you. Do whatever it takes to make the lift a challenge.”

“When I first started, all I had was a set of dumbbells, and I always managed to get a full workout with them.”

Now, I force myself to think creatively when it comes to my lifts, which forces my mind to be present. When I’m present, I appreciate my body, my health, and my full range of movements. I can appreciate that I can jump out of bed and run, and bike, and swim if I wanted. I appreciate the gift of a sound body.

Being a Hollywood Assistant
There are times it’s intellectually frustrating. When I feel under appreciated, or like everyone’s career around me is blossoming and growing and mine is stagnant. It feels like I just want to give up.

What pushes me through these moments is stopping to appreciate that I get to be a part of this process, even if for now, it’s a small, minute role, like moving around someone’s schedule over and over again because they want to see their kid’s volleyball game. When I feel my creativity getting beat out of me, I remember that three years ago, I knew absolutely nothing about the entertainment world. I appreciate the process of getting to where I am now, and as frustrating as it can be, I remind myself that the frustration is what separates those who succeed from those who don’t.

 

“Be Quick, But Don’t Hurry”

Those are the wise words of John Wooden, and it sums up a lot of the above.

There has to be a sense of urgency. Don’t tone that down, or you’ll grow complacent.

However, if you sacrifice all enjoyment in the present for your future, you have to ask yourself, “what’s it all for in the first place?”

If we don’t teach ourselves to enjoy the present, this moment of now, will we ever learn? Or will we catch up to the future, and still feel unsatisfied with our status and our work, unable to appreciate that thing we worked so hard to achieve?

#####

Photo Credit: an untrained eye