Jaylee: I think it’s really the gravity of our true strength that we are afraid of

I want to share a quote that a friend of mine shared with me, from writer Haruki Murakami; which has since reading, been a spectral echo in my ear…

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there’s, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

What are you deeply passionate about?

Often times it’s what scares you, or what you conveniently find a million excuses to avoid – to procrastinate. It gets done eventually, right?
And you realize, hey, that actually wasn’t so bad. You may find that you have grown from that experience with which you at first, second, and third, tried so desperately to prolong completion of.

Whatever it was, is… Just do it.

And yeah, it’s going to feel like a sandstorm, but every scratch, bloody knuckle, busted lip and soon to be scar is going to be a reminder of your victory.

For me it’s my acting – specifically where I have to act. Go figure.

It’s the arena where I want to be stung like a bee and float away like a butterfly before having to step on that mark. I’ll do all the work. The analysis and character building is like digging for gold, like the process of pressurization to create a diamond.

But I leash myself in fear.

My acting teacher was talking about two things that are imperative to building character, and success in acting: exploration of the character – the spine, of what composes each vertebra to create and hold up the person that they are both consciously and unconsciously; and relationship, from the environment, to your scene partner, to every word of text on the page. You must be in a respectful handshake with these two chemicals.
*cue Matthew McConaughey* Then bring yourself in baby.
It’s a chemical reaction.

You will walk away different – changed – learning and knowing something different about yourself, and the story.

Haruki’s got it there plain and true. This passage, the language the author uses is visceral and raw – much like the process of creativity. As hard as sand is – it’s fluid; it takes the shape of what it is put into, it falls between and through your fingers, as you should too, and have. It fills up space, it’s matter, it matters – just like you. And the validity of your art, and your interpretation of life – no matter what form or medium. The audition, your passion, love, and life, is the sandstorm. And you are equally a force to be reckoned with of such a magnitude. I think its really the gravity of our true strength that we are afraid of – that we hold back on.

Scare people around you, impress yourself. It’s rewarding and enriching, but most of all – it’s fun.