No More Goals

No more goals.

What?! How can I say that?! Do I mean to not set goals? Do I mean to stop trying to achieve? Do I mean to give up hope for all my dreams?

No. That’s not what I mean at all.

Here’s what I suppose. I suppose that people make, “Goals” and what they’re really doing is making hopes, wishes, dreams and not actually setting attainable steps. You have to break each goal down into small subcategories and chores in order to get things done. I don’t have to elaborate, others can tell you how to do that better than I can. It’s pretty basic. If your goal is to, say…open a restaurant, you probably won’t get any closer until you make a few other basic things happen (cooking school, investors, locations, menu, hiring staff, etc).

But here’s what I see. I see people “setting goals” and not ones that they KNOW are attainable. They’re just what they want or hope will happen. You know who you are. You’re doing everything you think you’re supposed to be doing in order for miracles to happen. So you wait…and wait…for your miracle to happen, while doing things YOU DON’T LIKE because you think it’s connected.

Horse pucky. Yah, I said it.

I don’t do things I don’t want to do. And I don’t make goals. I make TO DO lists. Could step 1 on my list eventually lead to a wonderful miracle? Sure. But am I going to keep getting depressed every year when my, “goal” (aka a miracle) doesn’t happen? Well…that’s been the past reaction. But I think it’s a waste of my time.

Here’s my life:

Age 20, my “big goal” is to move to LA. My little goals to GET to LA were to:

1)     get a bi-coastal agent

2)     join SAG

3)     have $5000 in my bank account to help with the move

4)     have New York TV/Film credits, on tape

5)     hopefully have a job to move to LA for.

I figured it would take 5 years. It didn’t.

Cut to many, many years later. I had most of it, except the agent and the job. But I went anyway. And I’m SO glad I did. I finally realized that moving to LA was not a goal. It was a CHOICE.

What’s that quote? Life is what happens while you’re making plans. Or, Life is a journey, not a destination. Or, Life…get in the game. How about just, Life. Live it.

I want to act in film. Well, I make more films in a year than almost anyone I know. Why? I don’t have an agent. I don’t have a famous parent. I don’t go to Hollywood parties. I only audition for films I WANT to do. I make movies because I CHOOSE to. I write them. I produce them. I made some amazing friends who also CHOOSE to make movies. Did it help my future desires? Yes. Did it add to my IMDB credits? Yes. And will it someday lead to a miracle? Sure. But in the meantime…I’m acting. I’m writing. I’m making films. I’m LIVING. I’m not hoping, wishing, dreaming about things that may or may not happen. I can NOT pin my happiness on that on a day to day basis. I have to enjoy the time I have on Earth if I can. And I can not look back on my life someday and think it was a waste of time if that “goal” didn’t happen.

Some other little secrets: You don’t have to be in Hollywood or New York to make movies. You don’t have to wait for someone else to propose to you or ask you out. You don’t need a significant other or a full time job to have security in your life. You can do it yourself. And you should.

So, I’m not setting goals anymore or waiting around for miracles. I’m…making TO DO lists.

Get it?

In Search of Romance

Romance: Noun. a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention. ,a romantic spirit, sentiment, emotion, or desire, romantic character or quality.

Romantic: Adj. to invent or relate romances; indulge in fanciful or extravagant stories or daydreams, to think or talk romantically.

Basically, you can not define the word “romance” without using the word “romantic” and vice versa. And look at the beginning of the definition, “a made-up story, full of exaggeration or invention”. What?! Are we not ALL in search of romance? And yet, we’re searching for something that doesn’t exist?

Working backwards, I feel like my earliest memories of the word began with…”Love Boat”. Right? Every couple would end up on the Lido deck at night, under a moon, soft breeze. She’s have a light wrap on and her hair would blow. They’ve have their first kiss and just KNOW they were meant to be together.

Cut to, about 15 years later, I’m on my first cruise ship, performing. My boyfriend and I had been cast together and I said we HAD to find a chance to kiss on the Lido Deck, under the moon light. I’d wear a gown and a wrap. On formal night, I was wearing a long white and sequin gown, with a wrap, my hair up and sparkly. I chose the outside door to the theater’s lounge to go outside at night. The wind pull was SO strong, I do believe that my dress and I appeared like a flag, at half mast. I literally crawled my way along the guard rail desperately clinging onto my jewelry, wrap, dress (sometimes up around my head), and probably cursing “Love Boat” the whole time. I don’t recall my boyfriend meeting me there, or any sort of “Titanic”…”I’m king of the world!” moment either. I do recall thinking, “I could die right now.” and…romance, is not what it’s cracked up to be.

Working more backwards, I’m guessing Shakespeare was among the first to build up our hope of what a romantic evening means, only to generally end up dead by the end of the play anyway. Still, we want our significant others to make grand gestures, sword fight on our behalf, lay coats down in mud, and visit Club Med with us so we can play on the beach.

In reality, if my boyfriend drew a sword at someone, I’d pretend not to know him. If he laid his coat in mud, I’d calculate the cleaning bill, and as he likes to say about me, “You like the IDEA of the beach, but not the ACTUAL beach.”. It’s true. I’m extremely pale and the sun tires me very quickly. Plus, I’m not the strongest swimmer. So the beach is nice to walk on or take pictures. But I’m usually done after about 20 minutes.

It’s the same with all, “romantic” spots I find. I see a bench in the woods, I think, “OH! So romantic!” I sit there. I wait for something exciting to happen. Maybe I expect sudden fireworks overhead or little animals bringing me flowers. But that never happens. What do I expect will happen at Club Med? Or on the balcony in a hotel in Italy? Or anywhere else they tout as being a very, “romantic” location. Unless there’s a small string quartet hidden in the bushes, along with 5 gorgeous men holding grapes-at-the-ready to feed me, I think I’d best get over any search for romance that I may have. It’s, “a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention” and I think we should all search for reality.