Last week was such a surreal week for me and not just because my daughter slept until 9:30 on both Saturday and Sunday (although if I had known she was going to discover the joys of "sleeping in on the weekends" I would have prepared better. Ya know, used that time to write a musical, build a tree house, cure cancer...)
However, the real reason for having had such a surreal week had to do with the creative work of worlds coming together in such unexpected and overwhelming ways.
As you know I started writing over a year ago. I had never written a column before, barely knew my way around the Internet (or, as my even less techy friend calls it, "the world wide web") and hadn't a clue what I had to say.
But, I just wrote. I did what seemed to be the next right indicated action. When I'm quiet I can actually listen for guidance. And when I'm really quiet I can actually follow that guidance.
Before I knew it I was a columnist. Had a following. A twitter account (which I'm still not sure how to use properly). I even got to meet my hero, Arianna Huffington!
I wrote about everything that was true in my life. From motherhood to unemployment and all the crazy in-between. I shared it all and continue to share it all.
And while I wrote my weekly column and watched the calender continue to flip without me having a paying writing job—or any job— I truly was at the end of the road when, as you know, I got hired to write for a show. But not just any show. The number one sitcom on television.
It was a miracle. A gift. A PAYCHECK!
My daughter and I danced around the living room screaming and, embarrassingly enough, we still are. Unfortunately, she can't watch the TV show that her mommy is writing for but she enjoys knowing, just simply knowing in her heart, that her mommy is a working writer.
I'm getting to the surreal part soon. Promise.
Who knows how anyone truly lands a job. Was it what I wore? Said? Didn't say? You can try and dissect these things, but the truth is how we get anywhere is a little footwork and a bucketload of mystery.
What I do know is that when I did have that initial meeting for the job it wasn't just my scripts that had been sent over.
He had read my columns. And, one column in particular that we spoke about was my
"Yes, it's true. I did it. I'm not crazy. Well, just a little."
Okay, here we go. The surreal part.
Last Monday I got a career high. At 9 p.m. on CBS for the first time with this show I got to see my name on screen. And not just my name... I got to see it float underneath my boss's name. A name I never could imagine sharing a credit with.
And in the same week, on Thursday night, at a sold out theater in Hollywood, I got to do something else. Something I had never done before.
I performed a reading of Yes, my column. My stalking Viggo Mortenson column. An evening of seven writer's hand selected to perform their work in front of a packed crowd and I was among them.
That's right, two worlds, two creative endevour's happening in the same week.
A story that quite possibly led me to a job. A job that quite possibly led me to performing a story.
So, here's to footwork. Here's to listening and being led. Here's to dancing in living rooms.
And here, my friends, is to a bucketload of mystery.