What a Medical Emergency Taught Me
A couple weeks ago, our 7 week old baby boy spent eight days in hospital.
We were incredibly fortunate. We caught a potentially life-threatening bug before it had fully developed and taken hold, and he received the care he needed. But for eight days, our world became very small.
It was him. Our daughter. My husband. Our family. Our friends.
That was pretty much it.
And it’s amazing how quickly all the other stuff that can consume us suddenly becomes completely irrelevant.
The audition. The job. The email you haven’t answered. The career plan. The opportunity you’re worried you might miss. The irritating thing somebody said. Whether you’re doing enough. Whether you’re achieving enough.
For those eight days, I genuinely couldn’t have cared less.
And I was reminded of something I think we can easily forget, particularly as actors.
When real, hard shit happens in your life, your career isn’t going to pick you up.
Your people are.
The people who texted us every day. The people who checked in without expecting a response. The people who offered practical help. The people who made us laugh. The people who loved our daughter while our attention had to be elsewhere. The people who simply made it clear: we are here.
Those things mattered enormously.
We spend so much energy strategising our careers. What’s next? Who should I meet? What class should I take? Should I get new headshots? Why didn’t I get that audition? Why haven’t I heard about that job?
I believe in ambition. I believe in working incredibly hard at your craft. I’ve built a large part of my life around those beliefs.
But jobs come and go. Auditions disappear. Shoots wrap. Shows close. Rehearsal rooms empty. Even the most exciting career moments are fleeting in the grand scheme of things.
So invest in your people with the same ferocity that you invest in your career.
Have dinner with your friends. Make the phone call. Show up for somebody. Let somebody show up for you. Build relationships that have absolutely nothing to do with whether they can help you get a job.
Because, strangely enough, all of that will make you a better actor anyway.
A fully lived life gives us something to bring into the room. Love, fear, friendship, disappointment, silliness, generosity, grief, joy, vulnerability. You cannot career-strategise your way into understanding those things. You have to live them.
This industry can feel incredibly lonely. But our lives don’t have to be.
Collaboration is key in class, the rehearsal room and set and on stage, yes. I’m increasingly convinced it’s key to pretty much everything else too.
Invest in your people. They will fuel your life. And your life will fuel your work.
Keep up the great work
Mark :)
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