So, in June I wrote an article, This article actually, for the Comedy Tribune. The article was first conceived from a place of anger. I had been called out for how distant, busy and distracted I've been from my comedy habit. I was mad about it, so the piece started as me trying to rationalize and justify myself. To explain how this was how I had to do it. Once I realized what I was saying and had the situation laid out literally right in front of my face, my whole perspective changed.
I was not okay. I was not properly supporting the most important people in my life. I was blind to how obsessed I'd become with chasing my dream, that I didn't realize what I could lose, WAS losing, in the process. My family, friends and personal well-being were all suffering. I had to find some balance.
I'll admit now, that even the article itself wasn't a balanced look at the situation. It barely mentioned anything that wasn't comedy. (And this one won't either.) But that was kind of the point though. That I didn't have my shit together AT ALL. It wasn't me saying that I had changed and that everything was fine now. It was a starting point to making things better.
So....how's that going, you may be asking?
Better, in short. Not all the way better, but better.
I had a couple of big shows to wrap up after the article dropped, then I planned on slowing down. Not quite stopping, but taking my foot off the gas. I think that really helped make those last couple of sets much stronger, because I did have a "treat every set like it could be your last" mentality going in. I knew the break was coming, and was excited about it.
After I got through those, I had almost two weeks without any stage time, then only did about a show a week for the next two. It felt good to unplug. I didn't write. I didn't go to shows. I just checked out, and tried to reconnect with my family and friends.
I didn't get upset about the shows that I could be on and wasn't. I enjoyed not having that take up space in my head. Oddly though, I did get upset about HOW unconcerned I was about not hustling. I surprised myself with that. Doubts about how badly I wanted to succeed lingered. But for the most part, I was at peace with it.
I also put a lot of thought into what exactly I want from this, in what time-frame, and what I'm willing to do to achieve it. That led me to consider that I've probably graduated from complete rookie to pseudo-competent amateur, which is nice, but there's easily fifty or more comics in this province floating around at the same position as me. Separating from the pack could take years if it happens at all. So that means I have to adjust my expectations.
I have, to a degree, proven myself to the bigger comedy scene as a guy who can deliver an adequate set in general. That means that I don't need to head to other cities as often to stay visible anymore. In fact I'd rather go less often, with more growth to showcase, than to be around all the time blending in with the rest of the big-city talent. There's also more local stage time than ever, so I won't need to chase time elsewhere to keep improving.
I've also learned that there's no one magical show that will change my career path forever in either direction. Every set is just another inch forward. That's a good place to be, because I don't have as much jealousy about someone else's opportunities. As much fear of missing a "big show". Things will happen (maybe) when they are supposed to. It's okay to say "no". I turned down a Calgary contest mainly because win or (probably) lose, it wasn't going to be a big enough deal to burn the gas money and the time. I'm trying to be more calculating than ever about where my time and money should go. I don't need to do it all.
Now I check these questions before saying yes to a gig.
How much will I learn?
Who's there that I can network with?
How much will it cost me in money or time? Does it pay?
How much fun will it be?
If the answers aren't good enough, it's a no. That's the way it has to be now. I love spending time with my wife. I don't want to miss my children growing up. I don't want to ignore my friendships. Those things matter, and need to be a priority.
Of course, I'm typing this as I prepare for one of four shows I'm on this week. So I'm still saying yes a lot. Things will still be hard to juggle. I don't think perfect balance is even possible. But I'm being mindful now. And that's helping.
Thanks for reading,
B
