Follow Your Dreams*

Follow Your Dreams*

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*Recently a friend of mine told me he was going to finally take the plunge and start performing full-time. I was stoked to hear it. I congratulated him and asked him what had caused him to make that decision.

“I just want more time to be creative and work on my act and stuff,” he said.

I died laughing.

“If you want more time to spend on your passion,” I said, “then don’t turn it into your job.”

I was only partially kidding. The truth is, when you decide to turn your passion into a career you often end up not having much time to spend on the things you’re actually passionate about. In order to make money from your creative skills you’re going to have to work on dozens of other things instead.

I’m not saying this to discourage you, I’m just trying to be pragmatic. If you’re going to chase your dreams you might as well know what it’s going to take.

Something I really enjoy doing is speaking at career days for Chicago area public schools. My job is really outside of the box, so students are interested to hear what I have to say and see that there are other ways to make a living than just your typical 9-to-5.

I always try to ask the students what they hope to do when they get older and the responses (particularly from the elementary and middle schoolers) are overwhelmingly “I want to be a YouTuber!”, “I want to play video games!”, or something similar. When I was growing up those aspirations weren’t even an option but today they are. A lot of people make their living online and it’s easy from afar to see the fun they’re having and believe that’s all that goes into their success.

Social media has exacerbated this problem. Everywhere you look you see people jet-setting around the world, in perfect shape, living a lavish lifestyle and spouting off worn-out quotes that give their followers the wrong idea. One of the worst ones is “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life!”

That sentiment couldn’t be farther from the truth. The reality is that if you want to make a career out of your passion you’re going to work all the time. You’re going to work early mornings, late nights, and weekend. You’re going to work when your friends are out having fun. You have to work all the time on things that you don’t care about, because that’s what it takes to get to do what you love for a living. Being self-employed means you work 80 hours a week so you don’t have to work 40.

I rarely have time to work on my show. I have to fit in those moments sporadically, when I have a few minutes to spare. It’s not nearly as often as I’d like, but that’s how it goes. Most of my time is spent booking shows, tracking down payments, invoicing clients, and marketing my services. But, as I joke often, “I don’t have any other skills.” So, I do the work every single day without complaint (mostly!), because that’s what it takes so I can do what I do best.

If you’ve read this far and you’re thinking, “I don’t have any other skills either. I have to follow my passion!” — then great! Do it. Just be prepared to spend an overwhelming amount of time on other, less exciting things so you can occasionally do what you’re most passionate about.

“Follow Your Dreams” is a great caption on Instagram but I think it needs an asterisk, like Barry Bonds’ home run record or the Houston Astros. Don’t be disheartened — be encouraged and inspired. If it was easy everyone would be doing it. It just means that you’ve got what it takes and all the work will be worth it in the end.

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About Mark Toland

Mark Toland is an award-winning mind reader and two-time TEDx Speaker. His mind blowing skills have been featured on NBC, ABC, FOX, CBS, NPR, WGN, Sirius XM, and more. Mark’s blog is a behind-the-scenes look at the life of a professional entertainer, full of creative thoughts for creative people. Sign up below so you’ll never miss a post.

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Thoughts From The Emergency Room

I dislocated my shoulder last weekend. (Long story short - I slipped and fell down some stairs. Then I dropped a couple dozen F-bombs, went into shock, and had to go to the Emergency Room. Not fun!)

My wife - my wonderful wife - remained as calm as she could, googled the nearest hospital, and got me in front of a doctor within 25 minutes. A couple x-rays and one hour later and the shoulder was back in place.

My shoulder is pretty swollen and I have to keep my arm in a sling for a couple weeks. But the pain now is nothing compared to the pain of those 90 minutes when it was out of the socket.

After a couple days to reflect on that agonizing experience I can’t stop thinking about how utterly awful it was to go to the ER. Yes, the pain was excruciating and no one wants to go through something like that. But I’m talking about the way I was met with complete indifference and no compassion. I can’t stop thinking about that.

When we pulled up to the ER, I stumbled out of the car and walked towards the doors. They wouldn’t open. I was shaking, cold, and clutching my arm like a madman. I could see people moving inside but no one was heading in my direction. Luckily, I noticed a small sign that said the actual entrance was around the corner. But no one pointed us there, no one helped us. I had to notice it myself, through all my pain, and walk around to a different door.

Once inside, there was no one in sight. I went to the help desk and loudly shouted “Hello, is anyone here?” Stephanie pounded on the window. No one came out. I couldn’t stop shaking or sweating and could barely open my eyes. We didn’t know what to do.

Finally, a security guard walked out - in no hurry whatsoever - and said, “How can I help you?” Stephanie explained and he slowly went to get someone. There was no concern, no emotion, no rush to assist.

A woman emerged from the back to take my information down. Stephanie composed herself and gave my name and address to the lady. She had to ask multiple times for the spelling of my name, even though Steph had given it slowly and completely already. It took way too long.

We finally got back to the room and were told someone would be with us shortly. There was nothing happening in the ER. It wasn’t a busy night. From what we could tell it was just me and one other guy, a young kid who injured himself committing a crime. The police were there, I remember that. And someone mentioned cocaine and heroin. Two completely different cases, on opposite sides of the corridor.

It took way too long to get someone to come treat me. I yelled out “Is someone going to help me?” And no one came. No one asked me if I was okay or told me I would be better. No one consoled my wife or offered us a drink of water. No one told me not to panic. Everyone just moved slowly around without really letting us know what was happening.

I got an IV with a heavy dose of morphine, then pushed down the hall in a wheelchair for some x-rays. Then, the doctor put my shoulder back into place and I could finally open my eyes. And then, he just kind of left. We sat in the room until I felt like I could walk again and, unsure what to do, asked someone if we could go. They grabbed a print-out of some general information about a shoulder dislocation and a prescription for pain meds, without any other information. Then we showed ourselves out and drove home.

Going to the hospital is a dreadful experience. It’s scary and unwanted. And expensive as hell. In the city I think it’s even worse. The amount of people they see must be insane. They have a constant stream of patients and procedures to deal with. And so, it’s a very impersonal experience.

But does it have to be? Is it too much to ask someone for some simple kindness or compassion? Especially in a time of trauma? I’ve been to dentists, podiatrists, physical therapists, and now the ER, and each time the experience was similar: cold, impersonal, nerve wracking, and apathetic.

As a self-employed artist my health care costs in America are outrageous. We get ripped off every year. And for what we pay, you’d expect the service to be top-notch. But it isn’t. It’s a joke.

It’s so bad that it makes me put off going to the doctor. It makes me not want to go at all. It’s made my wife break down into tears at appointments when doctors weren’t listening to her. And it’s made me scream into the void of the ER when I didn’t have a clue if anyone was going to help me.

I was thinking that coming onstage at a mind reading show must feel a lot like going to the hospital. People get nervous and scared. They’re uncertain and uncomfortable. And it’s my job as a performer to put them at ease. It’s my job to give people the best experience possible in a situation that they quite possibly fear the most.

This is perhaps the most important skill we can learn as performers or presenters. We must make other people feel comfortable being in our environment. It could be as simple as adjusting a thermostat and rearranging the seating. Or it could be as tricky as inviting a nervous person onstage to assist. But it’s crucial to treat people how we’d like to be treated - as a person, a fellow human being - and not as a mere prop or object being pushed aimlessly down a hallway without even knowing why.

That responsibility rests squarely on our shoulders - dislocated or not.

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Other Thoughts:

• I love October. It's just the best time of year. I love haunted houses, sweaters, fall weather, apple picking, and everything in between. We had a pumpkin carving party this week and I think they turned out pretty great:

• Catch me November 9th and 10th at the Chicago Magic Lounge. Shows are almost SOLD OUT but you still may be able to get a ticket here.

• What I’m Watching Now: “Succession” on HBO. The hype is real.

• This lady is an inspiration.

• Check out this week's video: