Someday I’ll learn to.
Saturday morning I delayed leaving the farmhouse at least an hour, dreading the day ahead. I puttered. I got distracted. I pouted. I did a little ranting.
The filmmaking seminar I was scheduled to teach in Dallas only had a few people registered. I was going to drive four hours each way and then spend about four hours on my better behavior and lose money in the process.
On the interstate I blast Mama Mia, Zero Patience, and Chicago from the CD player, trying to drown the voice in my head screaming “I’m an idiot!”
I find the place in Dallas, then circle ’round to a Taco Bueno for a quick fix. I call my best bud on the phone. “What the fuck am I doing?!” He whispers soothing assurances from 1400 miles away.
Fifteen minutes later I’m back at the conference building, dressed in my leather pants, wearing boots, faking a happy disposition, and resigned to just let the day be what it’s going to be.
People started showing up.
A lot of people.
In fact, enough people showed up we got all our costs covered. Even my two beef burritos. And I had a great time, meeting some really cool people who were really digging what I was telling them.
A big part of my seminar talks about how as an indie filmmaker I must take a huge leap of faith by believing in myself and trusting my community will support me and my films. No matter what I have to continue plowing ahead with the next movie, confident that what I need to make the movie will show up when I need it.
The folks at the seminar were all inspired and excited when they left, eager to tackle the filmmaking challenges in their lives.
I get back on the road for the long drive home on ugly I-35 and think about what I just told these people about believing in themselves and trusting that everything will work out.
What will it take for me to believe my own advice?
Ya big palooka!! Part of your considerable charm is that you’re NOT full of yourself. Love you and wish you all the best.