Being Enough

It’s not always easy to feel like I am doing enough. In a world where everyone is desperately trying to stand out, I sometimes find myself feeling inadequate in my attempts and path of life. As an actor, this kind of insecurity and clinging to “what ifs” can be detrimental to maintaining a sense of joy in my work. It can also be rare to find teachers that tell you that you are already enough walking into the room on the first day. Actor training is filled with external tools and techniques being offered to enhance one’s creativity and impulses, but they aren’t always introduced as such. Sometimes in school it felt as though the tools being handed to me weren't going to enhance what I was already naturally doing and bring about more awareness in my process, but rather were the lock and key to “good acting”. 

The problem is, there are so many ways we are brought up learning how we are not enough, actor training aside. Capitalism, the very water we swim in, the air we breathe, teaches us instantly in life that we will only be enough when we have money to get the things we need and desire. Only then can we be happy. Only then can we be secure and truly enough. I am also amongst the first generation to grow up with social media in some capacity. Having now gotten rid of most of my contact with social media on my devices, I am able to see the endless ways it was infecting my psyche with feelings of inadequacy, FOMO, and shame. And yet, the allure of social media is still not completely eradicated from my brain. Without the apps, a whole different kind of FOMO sets in, especially because platforms like Facebook and Instagram have become easy ways to get the word out about job opportunities, workshops, and cool events. But the FOMO of not having Instagram does not outweigh the insidious FOMO I feel when I’m actually scrolling on the app, looking at all the amazing lives other people are living and wondering why I’m sitting on my couch looking at it and not out there doing it. But we’re all well aware this is an illusion. It is an obvious fact that people tend to post the more interesting and exotic moments of their lives on social media. Why would I post myself sitting on the couch watching it happen? However, even though I know I’m looking at an illusion, a carefully crafted mirage of the highlights of other’s lives, the feeling that I’m not doing enough or not creative enough or not adventurous enough persists. 

Capitalism and social media are blatant examples of how we are all taught to carry within ourselves at some level these feelings of shame, and they are both extremely dangerous to the spirit of the artist. The space for bravery, confidence, and vulnerability dwindles under the pressures of the rat race for money and security, the berating of hundreds of images of people doing things I’m not, and of teachers with rigid expectations of how the work of an actor ought to be conducted. These are significant barriers I still face on a daily basis that pose existential threats to authentic, bold, uninhibited art. I’ve often wondered if my quest for artistic truth is futile paired with my quest for making a living off of theatre. Is it even possible to reach artistic truth when my work is always monetized? All of these factors (Financial security, virtual tribal security, and the security garnered from the approval of a teacher) have a hand in creating the narratives we view the world through, and consequently how we go about making art. 

I'm lucky to have some excellent mentors and teachers in my life. One of whom, Sabin Epstein, kick-started the ongoing process of me reverse engineering some of my unhelpful narratives that I've been operating under. This led me to a series of epiphanies about the latent ways I hide as an actor. I was amazed at how deeply his critiques went in illuminating my unconscious defense mechanisms. Acting is the place where I feel I can be the most vulnerable, express all of my big emotions and ideas, and still I put up arbitrary walls between me and my audience because I am worried I’m not enough. True vulnerability, what Sabin calls “bald acting”, is fucking terrifying and difficult. Acting is the supreme act of vulnerability, at its best.

For so long, people would say in some way or another, “We want to see YOU play the character” or, “The best actors are the ones that bring themselves to the role.” I did not understand this at all. I always thought of the actor's job as a search for someone outside of myself. The character exists somewhere externally and I have to try and find it and drag it all the way back to me. Finally, I see that indeed the actor's job is to find the character within one’s truest self. The character is the mask I put on that is the filter for my truth, my lived experiences, deepest emotions, sensibility, politics, and spirituality. This is the essential paradox of the actor and the character. The mask comes on to reveal someone else’s experience and truth, while simultaneously revealing the truth of the person that animates it to life. So yes, the best actors ARE the ones that bring themselves fully and unabashedly to a role. It is the supreme act of vulnerability to actually, actually reveal oneself to the audience through the circumstances of the character they’re portraying. It simply cannot be about fulfilling the requirements of form and technique, of doing a proficient job at this thing called “acting” and getting all gold stars. It can’t be about “doing all the right things”. It must go deeper in order to actually be of value to the human race.

In training, I was obsessed with work. I still am to some degree, but because of various life changes (Deaths in my family, an increased sense of anxiety, and a 10 day silent meditation retreat), I’ve entered a chapter of my life where I have started to realize that work can’t be work for work’s sake. I crave balance in my life, with the newfound knowledge that this equanimity serves my work. As a professional at the beginning of my career, I have to be intentional and efficient with my time and how I maintain artistic practice in the in-between moments. I can now see how sometimes my incessant need for work and discipline was not always coming from a place of authenticity, but fear that I wouldn’t be good enough without it. In reality, doing “all the right things” doesn’t guarantee artistic excellence or success, and it certainly doesn’t guarantee artistic fulfillment. 

Conversely, though, I don’t think I would be writing this if it weren’t for the fact that I worked my ass off for four straight years and went through the weeds to come out on the other side with a little more perspective. It’s another paradox. I feel grateful for the journey I’ve been on so far and wouldn’t change anything about it, because I know I’m on the right path. Because it’s my path. I feel very optimistic about where my path as an artist is headed, and no matter what happens, I can arm myself with the knowledge that I am enough, as I am, right now, despite what I occasionally tell myself, and despite what the world wants to tell me.