Responsible

The last week was a whirlwind.

My kitchen flooded, my tour promo was delayed, and my workload seemed to exponentially increase with every passing day. Then, in the past 48 hours everything went crazy. I worked nonstop to get things in place for my weekly show and to be packed and ready to head back out on tour first thing this morning.

And so, Thursday Thoughts got put on hold. 

Usually I spend a few hours a week thinking about Thursday Thoughts and another couple hours actually writing it. It sorts of bookends my week so I can explore what I’m thinking and share it with you.

But this week got away from me and I never had the time to write anything - let alone think about it.

I figured I’d write something when I landed in Kansas City today but everything was delayed. Then I had to perform tonight as part of KC Fringe, so I wasn’t able to sit down and focus there either. I had all but resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be forced to miss a week.

But, I don’t want to miss a week. I don’t want to give up on this project. I don’t like to fail at the goals I set for myself.

As I drove back from the festival, exhausted and ready to call it a night, I realized that I’m responsible for this. It’s up to me whether Thursday Thoughts continues for another week or just fades into oblivion. But the truth is, the only person standing between me and my goals is myself.

And so, I’m not making excuses. I’m not blaming my crazy week or hectic travel schedule. I’m writing this now, at 11:47 pm, to make sure I don’t miss a week and don’t give up on my plan.

Some of you might have realized I hadn’t posted this week. Maybe some of you didn’t remember yet. Maybe you missed it, or maybe you wouldn’t even notice if it was gone. 

But I would. I would care immensely because I don’t like to give up on the promises I make to myself.

So, I’ll see you next week. I can’t freaking wait.

Make It Better

You know how sometimes you read a comment online that really drives you insane?

There are two options when that happens. Either stop reading the comments or write a blog post. So, here we are…

In response to a call for political action an anonymous person commented that they had “better things to do”.

Fine. I get that marches and protests may not be for everyone. There are plenty of other ways to take action. But it was their reasoning that really bugged  me.

They wrote: “The world was messed up before we got here and it’ll be messed up when we’re gone.”

Seriously?

If nothing truly matters then why do anything at all? Why create? Why work? Why help others? Why fight for equality? Why pursue your passion?

The world can seem cruel sometimes - especially lately - but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to use our individual strengths to make it better. Even if we only turn the dial a couple clicks we’ll still be making a difference.

Sometimes I struggle with the purpose of my career. It can seem trivial or absurd to stand onstage and do “mind tricks” for a living. Plus, my discipline isn’t exactly revered by the public like music or theater.

When I start to wonder about the point of it all, I’m reminded that people come to my show for many reasons. They aren’t there to see me - they’re there for a fun night out, a first date, a work event, or something else. Last night, a lady’s family had bought the tickets to celebrate her birthday.

Whatever the occasion, it’s up to me to make it special. When you think about it - that’s a tall order. A roomful of strangers are relying on me to give them a memorable experience. No pressure, right?

So it’s not about my skills as a mind reader, it’s not about showing off or being the star. It’s about making each and every person in your vicinity feel special, no matter what you do. It’s communal. It’s inclusive.

For 46 people last night I gave them a chance to forget about how “messed up” the world is. I gave them laughter and wonder and a chance to escape whatever is affecting them in their everyday lives. For 75 minutes, I made their world just a little bit better.

Last week it was 250 people on the west coast, the week before it was 500 on the east coast. It doesn’t matter. I’m just trying to use what I’m good at to brighten someone else’s day. Making a small difference is better than making no difference at all.

So yeah, the world is messed up, but it doesn’t have to be. Use what you do best to be more inclusive of others and shine light in the darkness around you. And don’t read the comments….it’s not worth it.

What Really Matters

The tour is halfway over!

I just returned from the San Diego Fringe Festival, where I performed five shows in ten days at the Geoffrey Off Broadway Theater.

I’ve been working on a new show this summer and it’s still very much a work-in-progress. I try out new ideas during each show, listen carefully to the audience, take notes, and repeat the process for the next show. I made so many changes during my run in San Diego that I ended up performing five different shows during the festival.

Fortunately, I think the show is really starting to come together as I received great press, amazing audience reactions, and even won the award for “Outstanding Magic or Mentalism Performance” for the second year in a row!

My dream is to do a mind reading show that is not about mind reading. I just feel like I have so much to say as an artist that I really don’t want my discipline to keep me from expressing those ideas. The story I’m trying to tell excites me far more than the techniques I’m employing to tell it. 

However, pairing mind reading with my personal narrative is a grueling task that progresses at a snail’s pace. The only way to achieve my goal is to get onstage night after night, embracing the failures and celebrating the successes.

Since I’ve been working out a new show, I’ve been relatively quiet about where I’m performing and when. It’s not that I don’t want people to see it - it’s just that I’m focusing more on the show itself and less on the promotion.

During last year’s tour I had a social media plan in place and worked tirelessly to promote each show every chance I could. But this year, I’ve been trying something different.

A few months ago I deleted Facebook from my phone. I stopped logging on every five minutes and started working more on creative projects. It’s made me far happier.

Any article that promises tips on how to promote a show will always list social media near the top. They stress that you need a Facebook event, frequent updates, ads, Instagram posts, and more. And for years, I believed it.

I was convinced that the only way to pack the house was to post consistently and keep my fans updated with my whereabouts. But it turns out, that’s not the case at all.

I haven’t been posting about the tour at all this year. I didn’t make an event page, I’ve limited how many reviews I share, and I haven’t sent out a single message asking people to attend.

And guess what?

I’ve been performing in larger venues and my audiences have been even bigger than last year. I’ve been getting better feedback than ever before and I’ve been far happier.

Whatever new technology comes our way; whatever new-fangled advice gets tossed around by some current guru - it doesn’t matter. Heed the advice or ignore it. Use social media or don’t. Post every day, or rarely. Tell everyone, or tell no one. It doesn’t matter at all.

What really matters is that you do good work. Have a good show or a good product. Work hard and let your work speak for itself. Do what you do so well that people will talk about it for you. And when word gets out and people come flocking to see you, be better than they could have ever imagined.

That’s why I’ve spent every last second working on the show this summer. Nothing matters except the story I’m trying to tell. It's been a slow process, but it's finally starting to get there.

You don’t need to be what anyone else tells you to be. You don’t have to work how someone else tells you to work. You just need to be you, silently working to be as good as you can be. The rest will come - I promise.

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You can still catch me at Kansas City Fringe and Edmonton Fringe this summer! Tour dates here.

It's Not About You

Here’s a confession:

I started performing for selfish reasons. It was all about me.

I wanted to show off, I wanted to be the center of attention, and I wanted people to like me.

In the beginning performing is addictive. It’s a rush. You shake with nervous anticipation and hit the stage full of adrenaline. Applause from a good show will carry you to the next show; when you can finally get in front of an audience and feel that rush all over again.

But being a show off can only get you so far. When I started performing full-time I quickly realized that I needed to approach things differently.

For me to have a sustainable career I realized that I needed to make what I do about other people. It couldn’t be self-serving or narcissistic. I didn’t want to be the center of attention any more - I wanted to be the link between people and an unforgettable experience.

When I started making my work about other people everything changed for the better. People were more into what I do because it was about them. I still received applause and still got a rush, but now it was because I was cheering someone up or encouraging others. The amount of positive feedback I received for my performances increased exponentially. When you don't expect anything in return it's amazing how much you'll receive.

I hear other artists talk excitedly about the thrill of being onstage or how much they get out of their performances and I sit aghast, wondering if they even realize how much they’re missing the mark. 

It’s not about you. It simply can’t be. 

No matter what you do - onstage or off - it should be at the service of other people. Otherwise, you’re going to have a hard time being satisfied in your chosen profession.

Use what you do to make people happy, help improve their existence, inspire, and motivate. Share your wisdom but don’t be preachy. Encourage others but don’t act like you know everything. When everything you do originates from a place of helping other people you can’t go wrong. You'll be making the world a better place, even if it's just in your own little corner.

There's a wonderful Chinese proverb that goes "If you want happiness for an hour, take a nap. If you want happiness for a day, go fishing. If you want happiness for a year, inherit a fortune. If you want happiness for a lifetime, help somebody."

The best things in my life have come from helping other people without asking for anything in return. It’s made a world of difference for me and I’m sure it will do the same for you.

It's Okay

When I was a senior in college I thought about killing myself. It wasn’t the last time.

I've struggled with depression for much of my adult life. The confident, extroverted, commanding persona you see onstage is the very opposite of what I feel when depression takes the wheel.

Things could have gotten much worse for me if I hadn’t learned to embrace my sadness. I was trying to live with a false sense of happiness; a fabricated joy that fit me like a loose glove. 

I had to understand that it was okay not to be okay.

I channeled my sadness into art and music and exercise and travel and photography and more. I tried to find myself in my work and poured every ounce of my energy into helping others. If I couldn’t be happy, at least I could make other people feel good.

I’m not claiming that depression shouldn’t be treated or that mental health is overtly simple. Treatment is necessary and mental health is a complicated problem to solve. My daily thoughts are confusing and complex, as I’m sure yours are as well. But learning to be okay with my thoughts helped me get through a really low point in my life.

The recent deaths of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain hit me hard, as news of any suicide does. After losing one of my best friends to suicide two years ago, I’ve become deeply affected whenever I hear of someone taking their own life.

As a result, I’ve become an advocate and an activist for suicide prevention. I’ve taken part in numerous volunteer opportunities for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention over the past two years, including turning my own show into a fundraiser earlier this year (with all proceeds going to the AFSP).

This fall I’ll be running the Chicago Marathon on Team AFSP. My goal is to raise $500 for the organization, which will help with their efforts to #StopSuicide across the country.

I’ve never asked for help. Any opportunity I’ve gotten thus far in my career has been a result of hard work and persistence. Any success I’ve had is a result of my own time and energy, and not the charity of others. So, it is not an easy task for me to ask you to donate.

But that’s what I’m asking.

If you enjoy my blog or my show or my videos or my photos, I’m asking you for a small donation. If I’ve been able to bring a smile to your face with a mind reading show or you’ve thought “That is SO true!” when reading one of my essays, I’m asking you for your help. 

Just $5 to $10 is enough. You’ll be giving to a wonderful cause that helps people in need, sponsors research, and changes lives.

This fall, when I cross the finish line after running 26.2 miles, I’ll be so grateful to you for your help.

In the meantime, I’ll keep doing shows, writing these essays, and working tirelessly on my career all by myself. I don’t want your help on that. I’d rather you give your money to a good cause, which could use it way more than I could.

If you struggle from suicidal thoughts, please know that it’s okay not to be okay. If you need someone to talk to, send me an email. Or, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. Someone is standing by to listen and help.

You Have Time

I remember a friend telling me how he called up a well-known, established performer once and asked for advice. He explained to the seasoned pro that he had no idea how to go full-time and just wanted some general guidance.

“I was thinking you might be able to point me in the right direction…” he told the veteran. The full-time-for-30-years-nothing-to-be-worried-about-and-definitely-no-need-to-be-overly-protective-of-his-place-in-the-industry older performer replied, “I had to figure it out for myself! You should, too.” and hung up the phone. 

I’ll never forget that story.

Occasionally, I’ll receive an email from younger performers wanting my advice on how to turn their love of magic into a part-time or full-time job. I always - ALWAYS - respond with an in-depth, thoughtful answer about my journey, my thoughts on this career, and any other help I can give. 

There’s no sense in being secretive about how I’ve done it - they’re going to get the answers from me or they’ll get them from someone else. In the end, they’ll either remember me as the guy who was generous with his knowledge or the arrogant jerk who wouldn’t give them the time of day. The way I see it is the more help you spread around the more it comes back to help you.

I’ve never sought out help - possibly to my own detriment. I forged my own path in search of a career that I envisioned as a youngster, without any knowledge of how to get there or what it took to succeed. Early on I would pretend to be more successful than I was, hoping I might attract a mentor in the process. But it had the opposite effect - by posturing and positioning myself as successful, the people who might have been able to help me probably thought I didn’t need their help.

That’s my fault. I didn’t know better.

There’s no road map for success as a solo-preneur. There’s no formula for “making it” as an entertainer. So whenever I get one of those e-mails I try to imagine a young Mark Toland on the other side of the screen, nervously typing a few questions for a performer he looks up to, and hoping that this performer might be able to “point him in the right direction.”

I got one of those e-mails just a few weeks ago.

In a nutshell, the sender expressed frustration at not making as much progress in the craft as they had hoped they might have by now. They mentioned numerous performers they’d seen on social media and TV, and wondered how they could possibly achieve the same level of success.

I wrote back some general assistance, some book recommendations, and other ideas. But I also asked a question of my own: “Do you mind if I ask you how old you are?”

A day later, they responded. This young performer, ambitious and talented, in search of more success, told me they were only 22 years old.

I was startled that a performer fresh out of college could possibly think they were far behind. To me, they were just getting started. And, they were far ahead of me when I was their age. They were already asking the right questions, already hard at work building a brand, and already working towards a definite goal.

This is the problem with life in 2018. Social media forces us to constantly compare ourselves to others. Problem is, we’re comparing our entire selves to the carefully curated online image of someone else. It’s ridiculously easy to get depressed by the wild success of people our age when all we see is a string of their greatest accomplishments accompanied by a perfectly matching Instagram filter.

I thought the idea of “feeling behind” was my thing. I turned 30 and panicked. Nothing was how I’d pictured it, everything was different than I expected. The shows I was doing weren’t even on my radar when I was 22.

When I hit 30 I went into a tailspin, unsure of what I wanted out of all of this. It wasn’t my first existential crisis, but it was definitely the worst. I’m not sure I’ve come out of it yet.

I’ve had to learn to stop comparing myself to others. I deleted social media apps from my phone and limited my time on those platforms. I started doing creative projects like writing and video production just because they made me happy.

And, I had to reassess my relationship with my chosen profession. Most of the time it’s not what I wanted at all. But sometimes it can be really great. It wasn’t always that way, but that’s how it’s been lately.

So I hold onto those high moments - I bottle them up and keep them in a special notebook on my shelf. When I’m worried that I’m not where I want to be I look back through my notes and remember the standing ovation from 6,500 people last summer or the time I wore a listening device during my show so a deaf woman could hear me and she told me afterwards that I “really cheered her up”.

It’s funny what success means to you when you stop living by someone else’s definition.

It took me a while to figure out a response to this young performer but you can read below what I wrote.  It helped me to write it and I really hope it helped him, too:

You’re only 22! Wow, you’re doing so great. The things you’re working on now are things I only just started figuring out in recent years.

Here’s what I wish I’d known at your age:

Don’t worry about other people. Don’t worry about where you are or where you want to be. You can’t control it and you can’t force it. Just keep working hard - you’re already on the right track and I’m sure you’ll be where you want to be in no time.

Just hear me out - there’s no one way to do this. Some people do it when they’re 15, others when they’re 50. Some people get started late and others fizzle out early on. If you really want to do it, just stick with it, work hard, and don’t give up.

You have time!

When It All Goes Wrong

Something went awry onstage the other night. Horribly, uncomfortably, awkwardly wrong.

There was no way out of it. Nothing I could do could help me cover it or divert the audience’s attention. I just had to die a slow painful death onstage. I was embarrassed and humiliated.

And as I stood sheepishly onstage my mind was racing. Unsure of what to to do or say next, I began sweating profusely. The lights seemed to grow hotter and my heart started beating faster.

I could sense that I was losing the crowd. The momentum I had worked so hard to build was dissipating. The stories and jokes I had used to endear myself to the guests were all for nothing. My failure onstage cancelled everything else out.

And then it hit me. I knew what to do.

I talked about it.

I made a joke. And then another. Then I told an anecdote - a true story - about another time years ago I had experienced a similar fate.

Everyone laughed and we moved on.

Within minutes, the audience was back on my side and all was forgotten. They were laughing and applauding again. I may have lost them for a moment but they were back on board. We were a team once more and the show ended on a high note.

It was a new piece and I was worried about it. I anticipated something going wrong and it did.

It happens. And it’s going to keep happening. But I have to keep trying new things or I’ll never get better. I have to keep doing the things that scare me or I’ll never get where I want to be.

Maybe you have something scary coming up soon, too. Perhaps you have a big audition next week or you’re starting a new job. Maybe you’re about to move across the country or you’ve been really wanting to start a new business. I don’t know what it is - but I can tell you this:

It’s going to be really nerve-wracking. It may be scary or painful or embarrassing or humiliating. You may find success on your first attempt or you might suffer a crushing defeat. And even if it doesn’t go wrong this time, I can promise you that sometime soon it definitely will.

But you have to try. You have to go after it. You have to make the jump and take the risk. Just put yourself out there and, no matter what happens, you’ve already won.

That was the single most embarrassing moment I’ve had onstage in years. But the next day I woke up, made coffee, and got back to work. The sun came up over Lake Michigan and my cats followed me into the office to keep me company. It was just like any other day.

When it all goes wrong, life goes on. I survived and you will, too.

It Just Takes One

As I was starting out in my career I faced a dilemma:

I needed proof to show clients so they would want to work with me. Photos, videos, press articles - you name it. I needed to be able to show future clients something that would help them say “Hey, this guy looks legit! Maybe we should work with him, too.”

The only problem was I needed the right kind of gigs to get those photos and videos. I instinctively realized that if I kept using photos from my early gigs then I would continue to get those kinds of gigs. In order to get where I wanted to be, I needed something new.

It felt insurmountable. How could I possibly convince the necessary people to work with me if I didn’t have any work to show them? How could I possibly create a sustainable career out of nothing? I knew where I wanted to be and I knew I was good enough - I just didn’t know how to get there.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, an opportunity fell into my lap. A client, whom I had worked for previously, referred me to a company out of state. A month later I was boarding a plane and on my way to their event. I didn’t know it at the time, but that trip was about to change everything.

Most of the time I’m traveling I don’t always know what I’m getting myself into. Gigs can be big or small, in beautiful, sprawling theaters or multi-purpose rooms. My entertainment fits everywhere so you learn to lower your expectations and make the most of each opportunity. The goal isn’t to fit the show into as exciting a venue as possible; it’s to make the show as exciting as possible no matter the location.

So I approached this trip cautiously. I assumed it was just another standard gig. I had no idea I was walking into a massive conference in a beautiful resort…but that’s exactly what it was.

I did my sound check and confidently told everyone that everything was in place. In my head, though, I was giving myself a pep talk. “This is what you’ve been waiting for! You deserve this! This is why you’ve been working so hard!”

I tried to channel my nerves into adrenaline. Every thing I’d worked on had been building to that moment and it was time to prove I belonged there. I took the stage, did one of the best shows in my life, and walked offstage to a big standing ovation.

I was on cloud nine!

Surely my performance was going to lead me to more gigs. Surely everyone there needed entertainment, too, and now that they had seen me the calls would start pouring in. This was my moment!

But that’s not what happened. 

The truth is, the gig itself didn’t lead to any more work. The show was great but the attendees weren’t future clients, they were just at the conference for their respective companies. They weren’t looking for new entertainment.

Instead, something even better happened. As I left the show room I went around a corner and saw a giant TV screen in the main lobby. A slideshow was playing on the screen, different photos and moments from the conference so far.
‘
“Cool!” I thought, “Maybe someone got a decent photo of me.”

And then I saw it. The most epic, beautiful, stunning photo I could possibly have. The event photographer had captured my show in all its glory and it looked amazing!

That one photo became the face of the brand. It was on every page of my website, included with all of my materials, and even on the back of my business card for awhile. I finally had a way to convince clients in my chosen markets to work for me. I finally had some proof!

I always thought that I would need hundreds of photos and videos to get where I wanted to be. The thought of having to build such a large portfolio of work had seemed impossible. But it didn’t take hundreds or dozens or several.

It just took one.

That one photo opened so many doors for me. New clients, new shows, new agents, new opportunities. I can trace a direct line from where I am now back to that show and that incredible image.

Recently I did an overhaul on my site and updated a lot of my pictures. It was finally time for me to replace that photo with something new. But I couldn’t help getting a little nostalgic remembering how crucial that image was to my early progress as an entrepreneur and entertainer.

Everything that seems impossible can be broken down to its simplest parts. Anything that seems too challenging begins with one single step forward.

Training for a race? You just have to take the first step. 

Starting a new business? Do one thing that needs to be done. Then another. And another.

Trying to learn a new skill? Start with one thing.

No matter what you’re doing, start small and keep it simple. And when you do get that big opportunity take advantage of that moment. When something big happens for you, be ready and never look back.

I’m proof that it just takes one thing. One word, one step, one idea, one photo.

It just takes one.

Don't Mess With A Good Thing

I’ve lived in Chicago for about seven years now. When we first moved here there were a bunch of restaurants we would frequent each week. They quickly become part of our routine, a rotation of dining hotspots that we could rely on for a quick meal at a moment’s notice.

But over the past few years we’ve stopped going to many of those restaurants. The reason? Each location made too many drastic changes all at once.

For instance, there was a breakfast diner that was two blocks away from us. They had amazing breakfast sandwiches, donuts, and a hash brown to die for. Then, out of the blue, they replaced the hash brown with breakfast potatoes and got rid of the breakfast sandwich.

We tried to keep going, but a month later the walls were a different color and the potato option had changed again. What we had grown to love was being replaced with new things at a rapid pace. Evidently we weren’t the only ones that felt this way and it wasn’t long before they went out of business.

The other locations are guilty of the same thing. They changed too much too soon, with no warning whatsoever. The very reason we patronized their establishment was replaced with IMHO an inferior option.

Not all of these restaurants have closed down. Some are still open and are still adjusting their menu and decor. But we’ve stopped going there and gone in search of better places.

Our favorite spots are the ones that haven’t changed much. They feel familiar and we keep going back time after time.

I, too, have suffered from a desire to change things too often. An example: 

In the early days I would update my website design monthly. It was part restlessness and part uncertainty.  I  tried numerous designs and was never satisfied with it. It wasn’t until I decided to choose something and stick with it that I finally understood I had been wasting valuable time.

Instead of worrying about the back-end design I focused on providing value to people: my entertainment. With the website finally in place my mind was free to work on other things and, within a month, Thursday Thoughts was a regular thing.

Of course, my desire to change things isn’t limited to my website. I hate structure and routine, in general. I despise doing things the same way I always do. I crave new experiences and new discoveries. And, in an attempt to avoid the mundane routine of daily life, I used to change my patterns every chance I could, just to keep things fresh. However, it wound up doing just the opposite.

The truth is, a routine is there to give you a framework. The familiarity of doing something the same way over and over gives you a chance to focus on what really matters. Those mundane tasks end up fading into the background and going unnoticed, and suddenly you’ve given yourself a chance to make those exciting discoveries you so desperately crave.

Take my show, for instance.

Each week, I challenge myself to write a new piece for my act. I have a long list of ideas that I want to work on so I script one out, draw stage plots, and write jokes for them. But it’s really just a creative exercise.

There’s no way I would put a new piece onstage every week. It would disrupt the flow of my existing act too much. Instead, I just keep writing and working behind the scenes so I can have a notebook of material that I’m proud of. Eventually, I find a place to perform those ideas. (This year, it’s my tour - starting next week!) But these things take time, and I don’t want to mess with the good thing I have going already: my existing show.

To be honest, I was never going to those diners for an egg sandwich. I was going for a good conversation or a business meeting with a colleague. But I ended up talking about the new table configuration or being confused with the menu. Those things should have been part of the background for my visit but they overshadowed the entire experience.

The restaurants I keep going to are better. I enter, order, eat, and leave. And I don’t even think about it. I mean, I love the food and it’s one of the main reasons I keep going back. But I’m also there to make eye contact with my wife. I’m there to catch up with an old friend. I’m there because I’ve chosen to spend my valuable time in that location. I’m not worried about bad service and I don’t get confused about the ordering process. The music isn’t drowning out my conversation and the entrance and exit are easy to find. It’s seamless.

And that’s been my approach to life the past few years: Up early, coffee, morning run, write, and then what? I don’t know. But starting my day the same way gives me the mental clarity to go in search of something different.

I won’t be changing that anytime soon.