On Hope.

Well.

The world has gone a bit crazy over the past couple of weeks. For those living under a rock, or if you happen to be reading this in the future (hey future people!), coronavirus AKA Covid-19 is currently taking its toll worldwide.

I was going to write a post more around the facts and myths surrounding the virus - because there seems to be a fair bit of misinformation about - but I don't know if that's what people need right now. Rather, I think what people need is hope.

Because it's easy to laugh it off, and say that it's probably not going to affect you, and poke fun at the people panic-buying and post photos of toilet paper saying you'll sell it for a dollar a sheet. But, more and more, people are realising that this is going to affect them directly. If you don't get sick, people you know will. Probably most people you know. If you don't lose your job, people you know will. Some companies will close down, and some businesses will more or less cease to exist, as more and more restrictions are put in place.
Here in Australia at the moment, there's a ban on all outside gatherings of 500 or more people, and all indoor gatherings of 100 or more people; and international travel has been suspended. You also can't get into Australia any more if you're not a citizen/resident. Even interstate travel has slowed down. Aged care homes are limiting visitors. I think those are the main points.

It can feel very crushing. A lot is happening all at once, and even if you're someone who "likes change" and "goes with the flow", this isn't generally the change or flow you're talking about. It can feel like there's not any end to it, because it just keeps getting worse (even though there are already ideas about how long it might last - say six months or so).
Panic is easy. So is ignorance. Neither are good or helpful responses. We don't want people hoarding like crazy; but by the same token, we don't want people thinking it's not an issue and just going out and living their lives like normal as if nothing's wrong. There needs to be a happy medium of rational caution; where we hold both hope and comprehension together. On the hope side, we need to be looking to the future, and remembering that this isn't permanent. On the comprehension side, we need to be understanding the possible dangers, as well as the dangers already present.

I don't want to speak too much to the comprehension side of things at this time. Perhaps I will some other time. But I will speak to hope.
Hope comes from seeing good in the future. It's about looking positively forward, believing, trusting, in a future that is good. It can be specific, or it can be general. But it can also be easily blocked, if we have a short view.

To illustrate, I'll use an example from The Hobbit. If you haven't read it, this won't spoil anything in particular (though you should definitely go read it). There's one point where Bilbo and the dwarves are in the middle of this forest. And it's rather big, and they've been going for days, and they're rather lost. So they send Bilbo up one of the trees to get a better view, to see if he can see the edge of the forest. But when he gets up there, it looks like the forest continues to every horizon.
However, the narrator kindly tells us that they are in fact in a valley, a bowl of sorts, so it merely gives the illusion that it continues forever; were they to head in this or that direction for a while and repeat the experiment, they would have very different results. However, instead, the group loses hope. Because they don't have perspective. They're focusing on the immediate situation. (Which, considering what they've been through, is understandable, I will admit.)

Similarly, if we focus on the situation at hand, it's easy to lose hope. But if we shift our focus further afield, then we can retain that hope. And we can do that in a couple of different ways.
Firstly, we can remember that this is just a season. A strange and difficult season, yes, that we're not sure exactly how long will last; but everything we know says it won't last forever. That there will be an "other side", that we will get through it, one way or another. So we can focus on that, and on how we're going to make things better for when we do emerge out of this.
Or secondly, we can focus on something that doesn't change. In my experience, that's God. He might change what he does, or how we see him - but who he is is unchanging. He is life. He is love. He is light. He is truth. And he is hope, and joy, and peace. And that is an unshifting, firm foundation amidst the chaos - which means that, through anything, through all things, I can have hope. And, when I remember that, I do. I can forget, sometimes, and lose hope. But that isn't because he's changed - it's because I've changed my focus.

I'm not intending for this to be preachy. I just recognise that in this time, there are many people that are struggling. And I want to help.
We might be feeling alone - but we are going through this together, as the human race. This affects all of us (provided you don't happen to live in a bunker). And so we need to get through it together, though it might seem to be separating us. Together, we have hope. Together, we can make it. Let's support each other, let's help to keep each other hopeful. There is light at the end of this tunnel, and it's not just the train.
I'm still believing in a bright future. Perhaps more so than before. I hope that you will join me.

Lessons from the Crucible.

About a year ago, I was in the middle of directing a play called The Crucible. It's one that I had wanted to do for a long, long time, and there had been a lot of work leading up to it. But I wasn't ready.

The show looked incredible on stage, thanks to a wonderful cast and some great crew. But behind the scenes, there was a lot of mess. And most of it, I didn't know how to deal with. 

I'm not writing this post with the intent to blame anyone. I think we did what we could with the situation we had, and the tools at our disposal, and things turned out okay.

What I want to do, rather, is think about the lessons I learned from that experience. What to do, what not to do - whether these points are for future me, or for another arising director, hopefully my trial by fire will be of some use. 

Lesson #1 - Get Help. 

I meant to do this. I planned to do this. But I really didn't.

As a director, the jobs that can fall to you are many and varied, and will change depending on the production you're in, the team you have, and what theatre group it's being done by. But there can be a lot to do. 

And I can almost guarantee that there will be things that you need to get done, that you won't be good at. Or that you won't have time for. And this is where you need to get help. 

When you start off, being the director, you get to assemble your team. Get more people than you need. At least two or three more. Because undoubtedly, things will happen, and suddenly this person won't be available, or something will pop up that's urgent and/or important - and you'll need those extra people. 

Get extra people on board early on, and delegate jobs that you don't feel able to do or don't have time for. Ask for help from people if you need it, help isn't a dirty word. We need to use it more often. 

Don't get to the point where one person has three jobs, and another has two, and you've got at least six. That's not sustainable.

Share the load.

Lesson #2 - Communicate Everything. Twice. 

This one bit me on the bum a few times, that's for sure.

As the director, you have a million things going through your head. It's all planned out inside, and it all looks perfect and beautiful and amazing, and it all slots together like you wouldn't believe.

But if you don't get those ideas in your head to people that are outside your head, things are going to go nowhere fast. 

You can often think that you've already communicated things somehow, or that it will be obvious, because it's obvious to you.

But you've been studying this script, this show, for weeks, months, even years - they haven't (usually). And so what's obvious to you won't be to others.

Sometimes, you'll have communicated something quite early on in the piece, and expect people to remember it later on - don't bank on those expectations.

Communicate effectively, efficiently, and often, to everyone. 

Lesson #3 - People Are Precious.

In multiple ways. Some good, some less so.

The backstage drama in theatre productions is almost legendary. Actors and their egos, right?

One of my main goals going into The Crucible was that we wouldn't have any actors leaving partway through. And, thank goodness, we managed that, though possibly by the skin of our teeth. 

But the more important goal was that it would be something that people would enjoy, have fun with. That we'd have a great vibe together, and there would be good camaraderie between cast members and the crew.

And while we had that to some degree, it was nowhere near what I remember experiencing in other productions. We didn't get together after shows. We didn't have an afterparty. There weren't really speeches, or awards, or anything like that. A couple of people would show interest - but we were never able to make anything work.

I find it difficult to put my finger on exactly why that was. There's a lot that I still don't know about all that happened, because a lot of things were being communicated between others or in channels that I wasn't a part of.  Chances are, it was probably a few things. Differences of opinion, clashing personalities, just plain old being busy - we had all of that and more. But whatever it was, it was hard. Seeing some friendships that sparked up from The Crucible continuing until now, and many of the actors going on to do other great shows, has been encouraging. But it would have been great to get it right the first time.

The show is important, yes. And breaking even is important, sure. But people are precious. Relationships are precious. Put in the hard yards to keep the ones you have good. 

Lesson #4 - Start Clear. 

It will get murky later. So start clearer.

I'm not good at having things set in stone. I like things flexible, moving, malleable, particularly when I'm being creative. I can be very "pie in the sky" kind of thinking.

But that's not always helpful when you're working on something concrete. And real. That needs a specific outcome. And that messed things up for us something crazy.

In addition to this, we had a lot of voices contributing to making The Crucible, even just from a directorial standpoint. And that's what I wanted, because I was inexperienced, and knew I needed help and input from others. 

But, as you can imagine, that very quickly resulted in conflicting ideas, and confused actors. Whose instructions do I follow? Which one is right? Who do I listen to? I had wanted to avoid a bottleneck where all suggestions needed to come through me, because I knew that would be both annoying for people, and also very slow.

But what I should have done at the start was establish a very clear framework that I was working within. Giving people a clear picture - or as clear as I could manage - that they could draw from and work within. 

The picture that I gave them was very murky; and the framework that I established was very loose. I shouldn't have been surprised when things started falling down.

So start clear. Crystal clear, as much as you can. Because things always get murkier. 

Lesson #5 - Be On The Same Page. 

Or you won't be doing the same show.

I remember when I asked my assistant director to come on board, and the first meeting we had. It was quite strange, because many years before, he had been my director in my year 6 musical. I'd been the Devil! We'd both changed a bit since then. 

I remember thinking that he'd be perfect for the job, and that there wasn't anyone else I'd rather have with me. But I also remember really not communicating well with him about what I expected of him in his role. I wasn't really sure what it would look like, more than supporting me in my role. 

It turned out that it looked like taking one group of the cast while I would work with another group (The Crucible is a big play - over twenty in the cast, which made things that much more challenging); helping to build and plan out much of the set; and being the stage manager, because we never ended up finding someone for that position.

He did an incredible job, but I never spent the time with him that I should have, communicating (yes, that again!) my vision and ideas across to him, so that he could direct effectively and faithfully to that vision. Recently, I've started a minor role in another production - and that director and assistant director have been meeting once a week for months in advance, talking through every aspect of the show and having it all planned out. And our show was a fair bit bigger (in terms of cast size) than this one. I should have been doing that even more, but I didn't. And it showed.

Get on the same page with your core team. Or the direction you give will be all over the place. 

Lesson #6 - Be Healthy. 

Or the show won't be.

It's somewhat ironic, me suggesting this. I'm still not healthy, and I don't know if I ever have been, or will be. I'm not just talking about physical health, though - I'm talking about mental health, emotional health, psychological health. A structure will fail at its weakest point, and if that's you, it's going to fall like a house of cards. 

I wasn't in a healthy mental space during at least part of the time I was working on the show. Part of that was potentially because of the show, towards the latter end; but it was due to other things too. And again, I didn't get the help I needed, not until much later. 

And that affected the show, because it affected the amount of energy that I could put into it. There were days that I just wasn't able to do much at all - but where there was an expectation and need for me to do things, sometimes even quite small things. And I didn't do them. And that had an affect, that was felt by everyone. 

Not everyone on the team knew that I wasn't doing well. It's quite possible that they could read this now and only just find out. I didn't communicate that to people, and perhaps I should have. Perhaps I was afraid they would take the show off me. In a sense, they did, towards the end. Like I said, it was all rather dramatic. 

There were even brief times, near the end, where I contemplated giving up, and leaving it. Because it felt like too much. I don't know if I could have, but the thought certainly entered my mind. 

Thankfully, though, I didn't. I persevered until the end, but my word, it was a hard fight.

If you're going to direct a show, be healthy. Not just for your sake, but for the sake of everyone in the show. Because it will make it worse. Stress has a way of doing that. 

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I think those are the main ones. It's been a long time now, and although time gives you perspective, it also helps you forget. Our memories are never perfect, and always quite biased. I've probably painted things here quite differently to how others would, and I'll acknowledge that.

If I were to give a last piece of advice - it would be to breathe. Whether a show is going well, or going terribly, it's just one show. It will fade, in time, and end. And there will be another, and another. We have a tendency to make mountains out of moments; but they are only moments. They, too, will pass.

So keep breathing.