If you find yourself frequently wandering what you'll be doing X years from now or planning your schedule weeks or even months in advance, then you probably live in the future, just like me.
No doubt, we've all heard the phrase "live in the present," but I just cannot seem to let go of that taunting yet unreachable future.
In my improv class the other day, our fantastic teacher Barbara Scott discussed with us a critical element regarding this art. Say you're on stage doing improv with a partner, and all of a sudden, right after he responds "it's great" to your question of how his coffee is, you freeze up. You don't know what to say or do - you don't know "what happens next."
Even though we aren't wonderful stage actors (at least not yet), that is exactly our problem, isn't it? We're always asking ourselves and planning what happens next. It's that next big event that's going to give us a big break. Will I be promoted? Will my boyfriend propose? Am I going to finally get pregnant? Will I move to New York and pursue an acting career even though my louse of an ex lives there?
The solution is another question - "what comes next?" Rather than thinking about something that will happen, just do whatever comes next. For the actor who is frozen on stage with a million watts shining on him and several hundred pairs of eyes, including that of his partner, fixated on him, there is no need to panic and no need to let the enlarging pool of sweat stain under his armpits (hello, Mary Catherine Gallagher) frighten him. Simply take a sip of the coffee. Simple, huh? You've got coffee in front of you, so drink it - that's what comes next.
For us, just get in your car, drive to work, do your work; call your boyfriend and go on a date; research acting schools and find one that suits you - whatever it may be, just do it, in little steps. Eventually, whatever will happen will happen.
In other words, I don't need to worry if my tennis will improve to the level I want it to be, if I can play five difficult pieces on the cello with the Bay Area Rainbow Symphony in less than two months, or if I will ever become a great director. I'll simply continue my tennis lessons and go out and play like I'm already doing, practice the cello as much as I can, and continue to write my scripts.
So if you're stuck in life and don't know what will happen next, just take a sip of your coffee, unless if you have heartburn - coffee is bad for heartburn.
