Removing Barriers

A couple months ago I wrote about the fulfillment I was getting from virtual shows. Online shows meant I had removed all of the mundane tasks that usually came with doing a performance.

Since then I’ve been trying to find other ways to remove barriers from other parts of my life.

I got our piano tuned and redesigned the area around it. There’s nothing blocking my path to it now and nothing sitting on top of it. I just sit down, lift the cover, and play.

While my feet are healing I’ve turned to cycling. Living in a high-rise makes it a bit of a process: usually my bike is way back in the corner of the apartment, so I’ve been having to lift it over my desk, through a doorway, maneuver it around a corner, and out the door. So, we put a stand right next to the front door to make it easier. Now, it’s not such a hassle. I see it every day and get excited to use it.

Having to do so many virtual shows has forced me to keep my desk clear, which means I’ve been able to get more work done. I’ve been writing even more than usual, playing my keyboard at the desk, and even editing some long-forgotten video projects.

The point is that there will always be things that stand between where you are now and what you hope to be doing. Those barriers may be few or many, but they’ll always exist. The goal is to eliminate as many of them as possible so that the distance between you and that thing, whatever it may be, gets shorter and shorter. Eventually, you barely even notice the barriers. You’ll just think to yourself “I want to do X” and then BAM! you’re doing it.

When I do live shows I’m my own director, producer, head of marketing, box office manager, graphic designer, travel agent, scriptwriter, and more. Not to mention that I also have to perform the show! It gets to be pretty exhausting and as a result, I get burnt out and start to dread doing it. Even the show itself.

So, the last time we did a show I bit the bullet and hired some people to do the things I didn’t want to do. Yes, it was more money (more on that next week) but it was worth it in the long run. It freed me up to focus on what I’m best at: writing and performing.

I know this sounds obvious, but how often do you find yourself facing a series of annoying tasks that you have to do first just to be able to do something you enjoy? It happens to me all the time.

Doing virtual shows forced me to rethink many aspects of my life. One second I’m clicking the play button, the next I’m live on the internet doing a show. Nothing else stands in my way between what I was just doing and what I’m meant to be doing.

So, what else could I simplify in my life? Turns out, just about everything.

We used to have a studio across town. In the beginning it was exciting. We’d go there all the time just to get creative. But over time, it became a bit of a hassle to drive over, find parking, and drag our gear inside. Then, they closed down the surrounding area for construction and we started only going over for appointments.

So, we set out to find a new studio with easier access and fewer barriers to success. Our new location is perfect. It’s within walking distance, so there’s no excuse to be there as often as possible. It’s smaller, which makes it easier to keep our sights focused on one project at a time. And, it’s cheaper, so we’re less worried about the financial risk and pushing ourselves creatively and artistically in ways we weren’t able to before.

What else?

I pay a little more for my gym membership. Not because it’s nicer (it is) but because of proximity. No need to take the bus or train to workout. I only have to walk a clock from home and then I can get to work.

Part of my foot rehab is to stretch every day, so I’ve made a yoga area at home. The gear used to be stored in a closet out of reach, but not any more. Now it’s there when I need it and is easy to utilize at a moment’s notice.

I could go on and on. This isn’t some huge revelation but it is something that’s been helping me in my life and might help you, too.

Basically, my goal is to make doing whatever I want in life as easy as spending money online. A maximum of two clicks, one if it’s Amazon prime. You know how it goes… “Hmm do I really need a bright pink spatula with a UFO on it? Well, it’s only 10 bucks…” Before you know it, you’ve added it to your cart and clicked “FINISH ORDER”. Then, twelve hours later, the spatula arrives in a box five sizes too big.

That’s how easy it should be to do the things you want to do. Although, fair warning, sometimes doing the things you want in life take a little bit longer than one day delivery…but that’s okay. I don’t need stuff INSTANTLY…I’m willing to be patient, as long as it’s for the things I enjoy.

UPDATE: Six Months Without Social Media

It’s been six months since I deleted my social media accounts. Six months without constantly scrolling Twitter, without trying to build my Instagram following, and without constantly updating my Facebook page with upcoming show announcements.

After a month I finally started breaking the urge to check my phone every five minutes. Not having those apps on my phone or computer meant there was no need to constantly check my devices. Plus, eliminating those apps caused me to eliminate other apps that were wasting my time, too. Now my phone only has one main page of apps and I’m trying to whittle it down even more. I only use apps that are necessary for my business (banking, calendar, show tech, air travel, hotel), health (meal tracking, running tracker, gym membership), city use (parking, GPS, weather), productivity (to-do lists, reminders), and creativity (photo, video, podcasts, music).

No YouTube, no news apps, no e-mail, and no games. I’ve tried to make my phone as unappealing as possible. Deleting my social media was a gateway drug to eliminating even more distractions from my life and now I’M AN ADDICT! GIVE ME A HIT OF THAT PURE, UNINTERRUPTED FREE TIME BABY!!!!

That was my observation after one month. At that time I was curious about three other things:

1. Would anyone even notice I had left social media?
2. Would anyone try to talk me back onto it?
3. Would my business suffer?

The answer to number 1 is a resounding NO. No one cared. No one noticed I was gone and no one asked about it. The truth is, any friendships that mattered were real life, in-person relationships with my closest friends. Everything else online were shallow connections that were part of a total of “fans” or “followers”. They weren’t real friends and, as such, they didn’t know I went missing and I haven’t missed them either.

I’m still in touch with the people that matter and when we see each other we actually have things to talk about.

As for Number 2, there have been a few people tell me it’s a necessity for what I do. Management, agents, friends, even family have been somewhat insistent that social media is a requirement for success in my field. But, I’ve resisted their calls. If major celebrities can succeed without it, then surely I can, too. There have to be other ways to find success as an entertainer, right?

Which brings us to Number 3. Has my business suffered without social media?

NO! It hasn’t. If anything, it’s getting better because I have more time to focus on things that actually make my show and business better, without getting caught up in the constant need to create content for various online accounts. And, inquiries for my services have stayed the same which means people weren’t finding me through social media before and they definitely aren’t now.

There are a few annoying things. The media loves to quote twitter or instagram comments like it’s actual news. It’s ridiculous. And I’m blown away at how many times some of my friends say something like “Did you see such-and-such on facebook?” without realizing how weird it is to be so fully immersed in a world that only exists online.

After a few months, things got pretty normal without social media. I was using my phone differently. I was reading more and spending my time doing other things. I wasn’t thinking about other people’s instagram posts or worried about someone’s comment on my facebook feed. In fact, I wasn’t thinking about twitter, instagram, or facebook at all.

Then, just a couple weeks ago I realized something else interesting had happened to me. I was no longer feeling the impulse to share everything I saw. I mean, it had been happening for months but it was the first time I realized it. I wasn’t compelled to snap a photo of a sunset or the skyline for my followers any longer. I didn’t even want to take a photo at all. I was just experiencing things as they happened.

Without those impulses I’ve successfully been able to rewire my brain and return to life pre-social media. I was back to getting the most out of my day-to-day existence without the need for “likes” and “shares”.

When I see something interesting now I think of individual people that would enjoy it. It’s just so much better to think “Wow! Frank would really love that” and tell them about it, than needing to update my instagram story because I need to “stay current” or whatever.

When people find out I don’t have social media I’m usually met with the same response: “Oh, I’m so jealous! I wish I could do that.” Even so, they always have offer some pushback, too. Here’s a few concerns I’ve actually heard:

• “You don’t have social media? But, where do you get your memes?” (Kill me, now.)
• “Don’t you want to know what’s going on in the world?”
• “I can’t do that because my groups and clubs are on there…” (The list goes on and on.)

As Cal Newport writes in “Deep Work”, all of these concerns are very minor. They aren’t things that are contributing greatly to your life. If anything, these things are getting in the way of what (I suspect) you really wish you were doing.

Of all of those concerns the only one that really stands out is the need to be informed. Memes are a waste of time and your groups might feel important but are they really? Do you really think they’re making you better? Or, are they making you constantly compare yourself to other people or keeping your head filled with other people’s ideas? Just a thought…

Staying informed is important, especially in our current situation with the pandemic, protests, an election year, and the biggest race series of all-time. Without social media you can still be aware of what’s going on.

I read The New York Times (except for some of their awful op-eds), The Atlantic, and more. I listen to news podcasts and tune-in to limited news for major updates. And, I get neighborhood alerts when things like traffic shut-downs and protests are affecting my area. Yes, the information takes a little longer to get to me but that’s the idea. I don’t need to know things the moment they happen because that’s not a healthy way to live.

The interesting thing about everyone I’ve talked to is that it seems everyone hates their life on social media but they think it’s impossible to break away.

Up until now I’ve been telling people “I’m not telling you to delete social media, but it’s been really good for me” but I think I’m done with that. I want you to come over to the dark side with me.

QUIT SOCIAL MEDIA.

Do it. You’ll be so glad you did. You don’t need it like you think you do. And your life will be much better.

Do it because you’re reclaiming your time and using your hours for better things.

Do it because you care about your privacy.

Do it because social media companies are destroying democracy.

Do it because, deep down, you’ve been meaning to for a long time.

Now’s the time. Start today and you’re only six months behind me.

See you on the other side.

Preparation

Once I was doing a thing at a place for some people and we were asked to look over a script before we arrived. We weren’t supposed to memorize or rehearse it, just glance over it to see if there were any questions or changes to it.

So naturally, I gave it a once over the morning of my commitment to make sure I was familiar with everything. I read through it once to myself and once out loud to have a better idea of what we would be working on. It was literally the least I could do.

Upon arrival my contact began to review the script, noting the main points for me to be aware of. I nodded and said “Yes, I noticed that when I looked through it. Everything looks great.”

She looked up, aghast. “You know,” she continued, “I send scripts to people all the time and no one ever looks over these things. Thank you for being prepared.”

I always try to be prepared, no matter the purpose. I’ll take extra supplies, research the area, memorize the schedule, or study the materials beforehand. Whatever the project, I want to go above and beyond so people know they can rely on me and will trust me for future projects, too.

The thing is, most of the time my preparation doesn’t matter. A lot of time when I over-prepare no one even cares. They don’t notice that I spent extra hours doing my homework to make sure I was ready for them.

The more often that happens the more I want to stop preparing at all. Just when you think you should stop, someone finally notices that you took the time to do something that few people ever do. And when that lady thanked me for being ready, I learned at least two valuables lessons:

First, you should always over-prepare. If someone asks you to look over a script - print it out, highlight it, and read through it a few times. Bring the supplies they asked for, arrive early and stay late. Do the little things that matter, not because you need recognition, but because it feels good to be thorough and to exceed someone’s expectations - whether they notice or not.

Second, the people who do notice your attention to detail are the people you really want to be working for. All of those times preparing for people who took it for granted are practice for the people who will recognize your hard work. When they realize you sweat the details they’ll be grateful because they likely sweat the details, too.

The Roman philosopher Seneca is credited with saying “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” I think of that quote often, especially when my preparation goes unnoticed. It always reminds me to keep going above and beyond, whether it matters or not. Eventually your hard work is going to pay off and you’ll wind up creating your own luck.

Just a quick reminder this week to always over-prepare and over-deliver, regardless of the project. You may end up getting that big promotion, a raise, a repeat booking, or your dream role - you never know. But mainly, I want you to do the work like I do so I won’t have to wait for everyone to catch up at the start of every meeting I go to.

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Other Thoughts:

• I’m not really familiar with his work, but Bert Kreischer has found an awesome new way to go on tour this summer. Talk about embracing the moment.
• A few days ago, hundreds of people peacefully marched past my apartment in protest. Here was the view from above:

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Mr. Frank

In high school my drama teacher introduced me to a person who would change my life. Since then this person has pushed me to be a better version of myself, they’ve forced me to be more creative, and they’ve never let me settle for mediocre when they knew I could do better.

Now, it’s your turn. Allow me to introduce you to…Mr. Frank.

Mr. Frank is always there when I need honest criticism. Mr. Frank doesn’t say things to make me feel better, he only speaks the truth. Mr. Frank tells it like it is.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Frank...Brutally Frank.”

When my drama teacher needed to give us feedback on an assignment he would say “Allow me to be Mr. Frank for a moment. First name Brutally…” Then he’d proceed to give (sometimes harsh) feedback to help us improve. But since it was Mr. Frank speaking we knew not to take it personally. Deep down we knew that Mr. Frank only wanted to help us.

Mr. Frank always has your best interests in mind. Sometimes what Mr. Frank says may hurt your feelings or piss you off, but Mr. Frank doesn’t care. Mr. Frank is just being honest.

Everyone needs a Mr. (or Mrs.) Frank in their life. It could be your wife or husband, your creative partner, your brother, your sister, your teacher, your mom or your dad. It just needs to be someone you trust to be honest when you need feedback. But you have to promise to never get offended when they speak the truth. We all need Mr. Frank’s feedback to help us get better but we have to be willing to listen, learn, and improve - all without getting angry or refusing to accept the help.

The thing is, it's really easy to find Mr. Frank. It’s much harder to learn to listen to him. Being willing to accept harsh criticism without taking it personally is a skill that you have to work at. You have to develop a thick skin and be willing to let Mr. Frank tell you all the things you’re doing wrong. But if you can get there - if you can be gracious and accepting of that feedback - then you’ll never miss out on Mr. Frank’s insights.

Just remember: Mr. Frank wants to help you. So when Mr. Frank speaks, shut up and listen. Don’t react or get defensive. Don’t allow yourself to become upset. Just listen quietly, accept the feedback, and say thank you. That’s how you will get better.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Frank. How can I help you?”

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Other Thoughts:

• Here’s some Quarantine Mind Reading for you:

How It's Meant To Be Seen

I’ve had many people ask me to get back on social meeting during the pandemic.

“You could do live streams or make Tik Toks or entertain on Instagram!”

I’ve felt the pull, too. I won’t lie to you. Everyone is isolated, lonely, anxious, and bored, so my entertainment could be an entertaining, albeit brief distraction from everything that’s going on. I totally get it.

To be honest with you, I’m enjoying my time at home. I’m not bored and I’m not lonely. I have plenty of things I can do to fill the time and I’m not going to go back on my word and rejoin social media just to promote myself during a pandemic.

I’m still doing shows (probably a dozen online programs for clients over the next four weeks), I’m still writing, and I’m still focused on what comes after this. But I would feel weird about being tone-deaf during this situation or to seem like I was forcing something.

Seeing articles like this really bum me out. I don’t want to be on my screen any more than I have to, pandemic or not. Some days it gets away from us and we watch a couple movies or something, but my favorite quarantine moments with my wife have been going on jogs, playing cards, reading, and working on any creative project I can think of.

One of the few things I’ve been watching are classic NBA games on YouTube. I was watching a game from the ‘90s and noticed something incredible: no one was on their phones because they hadn’t been invented yet. Every single fan was just invested in the game. There was no posting to show off where they were, no tweeting, no live-streaming. The fans were just hooping and hollering and having the time of their lives.

Discover & share this Nba GIF with everyone you know. GIPHY is how you search, share, discover, and create GIFs.

I was so jealous of those fans during that game. Everyone was completely in the moment. There’s no way going to a game now is as much fun as it was back then. When you have a phone in one hand and you can’t resist the impulse to check it every second, it’s impossible to fully appreciate everything that’s going on around you. (I completely understand why Dave Chappelle locks phones up at his shows.) 

I’m not convinced phones have made our lives better. And I definitely don’t think social media has. I care way too much about my privacy and mental health to re-join social media now in hopes of expanding my reach or entertaining others right now. (If you’re in need of some solid entertainment watch Ozark Season 3. I’m too much of an animal lover to recommend that other popular show.)

I’m happy to have virtual programs on the calendar and be able to support myself during these trying times. I’m not complaining about that. I will continue to embrace the moment and do what I can to create a positive experience for my clients. But I do miss that feeling of connecting with others during a live show. No matter how great your zoom meeting or facetime call becomes, it will never match the feeling of a personal, in-person connection.

One of the last things we did before the shelter-in-place order was issued for Illinois was to attend a showing of “2001: A Space Odyssey” at a nearby theater. It was part of a film festival and shown on 70mm. If you’ve never seen a movie on film then you’re really missing out. It’s magical!

Before the film, the festival director said something that I can’t stop thinking about. She said, “We’re so glad to have you here today because you shouldn’t be watching this movie on a small device or home viewing screen. You should be watching it like this - on film - because that’s how it was meant to be seen.”

I love that sentiment so much, and that’s how I feel about my virtual programs. I’m doing them out of necessity - like everything else I’ve always done to support us over the years. But, what I do deserves to be seen live.

It deserves an audience - off their phones - ready for a mind-blowing ride unlike anything else they’ve ever experienced. It shouldn’t just be another tab open in your browser that you can watch absentmindedly as you scroll Netflix for something to watch next. It should be like that NBA game where you know you’re part of something special but you have to wait until later to tell your friends because you’re too caught up in the moment to care about your text messages or how many likes you got on Instagram.

That's why you won't see me getting on social media over the next few weeks (months?). Instead, I’m going to be hard at work on my live show, waiting for the opportunity to perform again. And when we all get back to our normal lives - whatever that means - I can’t wait to have you in the audience so you can see my show how it’s meant to be seen.

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Other Thoughts:

• I started a new blog series earlier this week called “Mark My Words”. Check this blog every Monday for useful tips, tricks, reviews, tutorials, and more.

• If you’re also self-employed there are some options for getting financial relief during the pandemic. Start with the Small Business Administration and Artist Relief.

Embrace The Moment

Remember a few weeks ago in the before times? Back when you could shake hands with a stranger and find toilet paper any time you needed it?

Well, before the pandemic shut down life here in Chicago and the rest of the world, some of my colleagues were already telling me to move to “virtual shows”. In the beginning I was skeptical - I’m a live entertainer, a theater purist, a lover of the stage - I didn’t want to do shows over the Internet. I resisted the idea because the pandemic didn’t seem serious yet and because it just felt like a corporate money-making decision and not an artistic one. Besides, I didn’t have a clue what I’d perform in an online format anyway.

In mid-March, over my last weekend of "normal” shows, I mentioned the “virtual” format to my friend Jan. And she said, “Oh you have to do that! Be part of what’s going on.”

It was such a simple and thoughtful sentiment that it instantly changed my perspective. I realized that the virtual programs were a serious opportunity to entertain people and distract them from this crisis, if only for a brief moment. It was no longer a business decision - it was a human one. Taking my shows online meant I could connect with people in a time when connection is hard to come by.

Transforming my show into a virtual format has not been easy. First, I needed a good studio set-up, so my wife helped me create a backdrop at one end of my office. We added studio lighting, an HD camera, and professional audio to improve the look of the livestream, too. Then, I started working on material.

Everything in my stage show involves people onstage and in-person, so I had to throw it all out the window and start new. I combed through my library, consulted with some friends, and slowly built out the show. Before long I had nearly an hour of brand new material for “ The Virtual Mind Reading Show”.

What’s fun about this whole process is that I’ve been too busy working on everything that goes into the livestream to have any time for creative doubt or second thoughts. It reminds me of how I felt when I was living in Los Angeles right after I got out of college. I had no money and no connections, so I did everything that came my way - good, bad, and awful. But, I was happy because I was working hard and making the most of each opportunity.

That’s how I feel with the virtual shows, too. I can’t think “Oh, that’s not a good idea…” or “That will never work…” because there’s not enough time. I have shows on the schedule and people relying on me, so I just keep solving every problem that comes my way because there’s no other option.

I’m not bored or lonely during this period of self-isolation because I’m working on ways to use what I do to improve the lives of others.

Are you making the most of this time, too?

It’s easy to feel alone or bored or scared or worried right now. But, seeing how there isn’t really another choice, you should do all the things you’ve been meaning to do. Don’t question them, just dive in and get going.

Use this time wisely. Find new, meaningful ways to connect with others. Be part of what’s going on. Embrace the moment.

That’s what I’m doing and I feel so much better about things already.

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Other Thoughts:

• This situation makes me think of one of my favorite TED Talks.

• Starting next week I’m going to be moving to a twice-weekly posting schedule. Check back Monday for a new series on the blog!

• I’m using the rest of April to tackle some creative projects. I made a reading list, a watching list, and have some writing projects, too. I’d love to hear how you’re spending the time or some suggestions on how to spend mine. E-mail me back or let me know in the comments.

The Mystery of the 7th Book

When people ask me how I got into this I always say the same thing.

“I learned everything from books!"

It’s true. I grew up in a small town. There were no other performers I could learn from or videos I could watch (these were the pre-internet days) so I spent most of my time at the public library reading every magic book I could.

Back then if you wanted to find me between school getting out at 3pm and catching a ride home with my dad two hours later, you only needed to look back in the corner of the library at the legendary position of 793.8 in the Dewey Decimal System. Those were the call numbers for the magic books - all seven of them.

I learned everything I could from those books. I’d check one out and read it cover to cover. Then, I’d swap it for the next one and so on. Those seven books were all I had and I must have read them dozens of times throughout my childhood.

Over the years I’ve been trying to track down those seven books to add to my collection. Some were harder to find than others. I found one at a used book store in the Chicago suburbs and another one in a garage sale. A friend gifted me the Houdini book I was looking for and I tracked a few of the others down at conventions.

But there was always one book I couldn't find. It was a book by The Amazing Kreskin, one of my first introductions to the fine art of reading people’s minds. For some reason, I’d never come across the book in my travels.

That is, until recently. I was between shows in Maine when I wandered into a used book store. I walked up to the counter with my usual query.

“Do you have any magic books?”

The lady behind the counter barely looked up, gesturing to the back of the store with a wave of her hand.

I walked down the aisle and spotted a small section of books on the bottom shelf. As I knelt down for a better look I noticed a book had fallen onto the floor behind the shelf. I reached between the other books, lifted it out, and there it was: the seventh book!

My collection was complete. After years of casually assembling my collection, I finally had my hands on the full set of books that set me down the path toward my eventual career. Those books had defined my life since I was in kindergarten. Especially the Kreskin one.

I absentmindedly flipped through the book and noticed an inscription in the front. The book was signed to someone else.

I’m not sure who that other person was or where he got it signed. I’m not sure what journey the book took to wind up in my hands in Portland, ME after all those years. But I like to think that in some mysterious way we were on a collision course and it was only a matter of time before I found it.

Why do I say that, you ask? Because Kreskin had autographed it for another person - ANOTHER PERSON NAMED MARK. But now, I like to think he signed it for me.

Perspective

Last week we drove a few hours outside of Chicago to see one of our favorite musicians, Martin Sexton, in concert. We’ve wanted to see him live for years but just hadn’t gotten the chance yet.

It was a cold night but we arrived early and huddled outside the theater so we could enter the theater early and grab front row seats. But as the minutes ticked by and the start of the show grew closer we grew increasingly disappointed. We had assumed the venue would be packed but unfortunately there was hardly anyone in attendance.

I had built this night up in my mind: standing room only, the buzz of a well-respected performer about to take the stage, a big crowd singing along to music that I’ve listened to for much of my life. Instead, we were part of a small crowd of only about 50 people and it made me sad to think about how much I loved this performer and how I wanted other people to love them, too.

There’s no rhyme or reason why some performers sell out massive arenas and other performers struggle to find an audience. Sometimes it’s timing, other times it’s complete luck. It’s not to say performers with huge fan bases haven’t worked hard - they definitely have, but performers who don’t have big followings work hard, too, they just might not have gotten the same breaks that other artists have.

As we were waiting for the show to begin I started to think about my own work. For all of my big shows and wonderful opportunities, I’ve also had to persevere through many a bad performance.

I’ve performed in college cafeterias during lunchtime when I struggled to get a single student to look up from their laptop. I might as well have been invisible.

I’ve done midnight shows at festivals when there were only four people in the audience. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

I’ve done company events where the audience was unruly and the sound system was so bad that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

You name it, I've probably done it.

When you spend an entire day travelling only to have a bad venue or a small audience it can be really defeating. You start to feel sorry for yourself and wonder why you even wanted to be a performer in the first place. You feel the weight of every bad show you’e ever done and every mistake you’ve ever made and it can be hard to shift that mindset and even care about the show you’re about to do.

So when I saw how small my favorite musician’s audience was last week I couldn’t help but replay all of those moments in my mind. And then, all of that changed.

He walked out and stepped in front of the microphone. Without any amplification he filled the entire space with a stirring rendition of one of his best songs. And everyone went crazy.

He made a joke about the show being “a living room gig”. He didn’t make fun of the audience or feel sorry for himself. He just acknowledged the situation and let us know that he was still going to give it his all.

And he did.

Song after song he filled the space with his amazing talent. Everyone was completely enthralled for the entire show. And by the end we rose to our feet in a huge ovation.

It was no longer disappointing that the audience was so small. It was a privilege. We got to see him in a small setting - everyone else had missed out. It was easily one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

For two hours straight I had been transported into his world. I don’t know if he had been disappointed with the turnout backstage but if he was it didn’t show. He shifted his perspective of the night into a positive one and transmitted that feeling to us. It was clear that he loves what he does and was grateful to all 50 of us for coming out to see him on one of the coldest nights of the year.

Everyone tells you that if you work hard then you can do anything you want. But honestly? Most things are out of your control. You don’t know where you’re going to end up or how much money you’re going to make. And you can’t will a world tour into existence. But you can shift your perspective and remind yourself to be proud of what you do and be excited to share it with other people.

It can be so easy to get down on yourself when it feels like you aren’t living up to your own expectations. And with social media, it’s far too easy to compare ourselves to others and their version of success. But success comes in many, many forms. You can phone it in because hardly anyone showed up to your show or you can blow the roof of the joint for fifty of your biggest fans in central Illinois and give them a night they’ll always remember

It’s all in how you look at it.

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Other Thoughts:

• Last night I was on the Nick Digilio Show on WGN 720AM Radio. Check out the interview here..

• Next week I’m giving my second TEDx Talk at TEDxYouth@Hinsdale. Watch my website for the full video soon!

• See me live in March at the Chicago Magic Lounge! Go here for all of my other upcoming performances.

No Other Option

I’ve had an idea in my notebook for ten years. It’s a piece for my show that I’ve always wanted to try. It’s everything I like to do onstage: mind blowing, entertaining, funny, and fun to do.

The only problem? I’ve never actually done it during a show until a few days ago. Just this week I finally did it and IT KILLED. It was as good as I knew it would be.

What the hell took me so long?

I guess every time I went to try it I would talk myself out of it. I’d tell myself it wasn’t ready yet and that it needed more rehearsal. I’d fall back on my go-to material instead of just taking the plunge and going for it. I just kept putting it off.

When I was younger I taught myself to juggle by standing over a bed. The idea was simple: when I dropped a tennis ball I didn’t have to chase it across the room. I could just pick it up off the bed and keep trying. Progress was slow. So, I started juggling at the top of the stairs. Chasing my drops became a chore so my drops were fewer. I got better because there was no other option.

When I went to theater school my parents told me I should double major in business, too. “You’ll want to have a fall back plan,” they told me, just in case things didn’t work out. But I refused. I knew if there was a fall back plan then I would fall back on it. When I left school there was no other option except to do entertainment . . . so that’s exactly what I’ve been doing ever since.

That's the same kind of mentality I needed this week to actually bring that new piece onstage with me. I waited ten years to do it because I always had a fall back plan. It kept me from taking the risk and pushing myself to do more and be better.

This week I removed the safety net. I only packed my bag with enough props to execute the new piece and nothing more. There was no other option but to finally give it a shot. It was the final push I needed to succeed and (as is always the case when you step out of your comfort zone) I’m so glad I did.

So what's that thing you’ve been meaning to do? What’s that idea in your notebook that you’ve been putting off for a decade?

The time has come for you to get rid of the back up plan. Remove the safety net. Stand at the top of the stairs and get the balls in the air.

Look at that! You're juggling!