Results Oriented

In acting, you can never be results oriented. If I look at a scene I am going to play, like the final scene between C.S. Lewis and his wife, Joy, in the play Shadowlands, and determine that since it is our final good-bye before her death therefore I have to cry by the end of it, I will kill any chance whatsoever of reaching that emotion. In my effort to cry, I prevent myself from feeling any honest emotions present in that scene. If instead, I commit to just being present in this imaginary set of circumstances with no end result in mind, I open myself up to all sorts of possibilities. I might cry, I might not. I might find myself feeling grief too strong for tears. I might find myself laughing. And if tears do come, they are real tears.

A friend at church was diagnosed several years ago with a malignant brain tumor. It was before I knew him and I do not know the details of it, except that he was told it was 100% fatal. When he found out, he prayed. He did not pray for healing. He did not ask to be cured. Instead, he asked God to help him trust God more; he asked for help so that he could give his family what they needed emotionally; he asked for help in finding the right path forward. He never prayed for the end result. What he found was freedom.

He tells me that before the diagnosis, he was not very happy. He had a vision of his life the way it was supposed to be and he was doing everything he could to get there. His efforts were always falling short in one area or another so he was not happy, despite a loving family, good job, etc. In the process of treatment for the tumor, he discovered how little control he really had over the events in his life, and how his struggle to control those events helped blind him to all of the good things in his life.

This was no a It's A Wonderful Life type realization where he looks back and sees how great everything was. More accurately, in letting go of his need for control he was free to fully experience the life he had. Much in the same way letting go of the need to cry at the end of the scene would free me up to experience a full range of possible emotions. Now, without that need for control, he is free to more fully appreciate his wife and his daughters and his grandchild and his friends and his community and his work and his play. Every day he wakes up excited to see what might happen. He told me on Sunday that the tumor was the best thing that ever happened to him.

The similarities between his situation and mine are striking to me. Like him, I am trying desperately to make my life the way it should be. There are times when I get so caught up in trying to create a career making movies, that I completely ignore the good things happening all around me. And there are times when I feel that if I do not get the chance to make movies that I will never really be happy. Yikes! And that is just around career and doesn't even touch conception issues.

Also, like my friend, I just received a diagnosis that I was not ready for and that shook me very hard. (Just to be clear, I am not equalling infertility with a fatal tumor, but I am noting a similarity.) Unlike him, my response, as it has been throughout the years we have tried to conceive, has been to pray for the end result. Please, God, give us a child. Please, God, let this month be different. Please, please, please change this situation. And every month that it is not different, that the situation is not changed, makes it harder and harder to look up and see - and experience - the good things in my life. And another little piece of my faith is chipped away.

The question then becomes how do I change it? How do I stop being results oriented? The key would be to let go of the desire for the end result. My friend was willing to accept that he probably would not live out another year. In the acting analogy, I have to accept that tears - or any strong emotion - might not happen; in fact, I have to accept that I might screw up the scene entirely. So in my life, I have to accept that I might never make a movie. And I have to accept that Trish and I might never conceive a child.

Ummm.... yeah....

This is one of those things that is so easy to say and so difficult to do. Some friends and family have been trying to steer me towards this for a while now and I have been resentful of their efforts. It felt like they were telling me I need to give up. I get that letting go and giving up are not the same thing, but it can be extremely difficult to notice the distinction when you see something so clearly and want it so deeply. And believe me, I can see Trish's and my child very clearly. (And in case you were wondering, that child is beautiful.)

My friend who had the tumor tells me that for him there was no conscious decision to see his situation the way he did. It was just how he reacted. He calls it a gift. Other friends of the church going variety, reassure me that God has a plan for me that is much better than the one I have for me. (I still struggle with the idea of an interventionist God, so this can be difficult.) Friends of the non church going variety offer support and encouragement. In neither case is there any kind of step by step instructions on how to let go, obviously. In acting, I finally started to let go of my need to be good after I screwed up a ton of scenes and got tired of trying.

I am not sure how let go of this desire, this end result, but lord knows I am tried of trying. For now, I am going to change my prayers. Maybe that small start is enough of a crack to effect a change. As C.S. Lewis says in Shadowlands, "That's not why I pray, Harry.... It doesn't change God, it changes me."