New Blog Post: What is important?

Each of us has been created for a special purpose. Maybe it’s for what we’ll teach a friend, or the way we’ll help a sister or a brother. Every day will give us chances to offer our special talents to others. Our being alive is a way of proving that we’re important to the family, the neighborhood, the world.

I have often wondered what my legacy would be, if any. I think for a long time I feared it wouldn’t be of any great note, which is one of the reasons I had my son. I know he is a strong legacy for me, not only because he exists but because he is a special person and I believe he will achieve great things in his life.

The funny thing about those with low self-esteem, which I had growing up and for a good portion of my adulthood is that there is an out of whack ego that accompanies it.  It’s called being ‘the piece of shit at the center of the Universe’. As much as we hate ourselves or think poorly of ourselves in comparison to others or believe no one cares about us, we are in fact doing an awful lot of thinking about ourselves and how we are perceived. The manipulative nature of Al-Anon, a 12 step program I have been a part of for many years, is partially the need to control someones perception of you. It’s one of the things that keeps you bound to an addict, that makes you a caretaker of someone who can’t accept true help and makes you put yourself behind another (see Blog post: Walking Behind You; http://wp.me/p2ofi2-lH)

It’s an odd thing, this yin and yang of the ego in those who think poorly of themselves. We think about it a lot. I have often had long philosophical thoughts about whether I matter to people, whether I am ever thought of by anyone or whether I just drift in and out of others lives without making an impact. On one hand, of course, these are valid thoughts, we all likely think of them to some degree. We want to matter to people, to be needed and loved, but I know my obsession with it has been, well, an obsession at times.  What would my obituary say, would people come to my funeral?  What am I really here to do?

I do believe we are all here to serve a purpose to someone(s).  Those of us who are parents obviously serve a purpose to our children but I know it must go beyond that.  We had lives before parenthood and are involved in others things as well (work, other family, charity, hobbies, etc…) afterwards. I may have given my son life yet equally I may be what hurts his life if I parent him poorly. Can that be purposeful? I am I here to teach him THAT potentially poor lesson? I was in a store today and thinking about how horribly wrong a relationship I had with a client went. It had strong potential but we think about things too differently, how to treat people, what is important, morals, ethics and so on to be able to continue to be friends or work together. I thought, and have previously, “Well, we’ll never forget one another, that’s for sure.  It may not be good, we may have learned some lessons, we may not be in one another’s lives for the rest of our lives but we each made a mark on the other”. Hey, it’s something. It’s not what I wish it was but it is what it is because it ain’t gonna be different. We are very different. YET, we stayed in one anothers lives for a long time. I learned lessons that’s for sure. I imagine she did as well. Some were positive and fun, others have helped shape how I think about things and treat others. As they say, some people stay forever, some people stay a season. We have to learn from somewhere.

I do believe there is a truth to helping others and that is why we are here.  I don’t believe that if I give a dollar to the homeless man on the street his life is changed but it may be altered for that night.  Perhaps he’ll use that dollar to buy a slice of pizza and eat that night which will then allow him to sleep better that night and wake up the next morning with a better outlook. Yes, he’s homeless still, I am not a saviour, but perhaps the notion of paying it forward does make sense.

I know at this age I have great influence on my son. It’s a hard relationship at times being a single mom but we’re thick as thieves and it’s a very close bond. I am grateful every moment of every day of having him in my life. Some things I do will stick with him and shape him, while, other things, and I do work hard to make these as few as possible, will put him off me, influence him poorly or send him in a bad direction. If he listens to me about drugs and cigarettes and stays away from both I’ll feel my job’s been done. Hopefully he’ll also treat people as I’ve tried to instill in him and work hard to achieve things he cares about.

I know I have influenced clients whom I have gotten work and who make a living from the work I do for them. Equally, I have left clients. Does that matter? How important am I at every step of the way? I don’t remember everyone who I’ve spent time with in life, so not everyone will remember me.

More important than how important am I and here is where I take the focus off myself and out it onto the world surrounding me is “How important is what comes from what I do?” My son, everything he does and is shown in the world, what inspires me in my work or other creative passions, love and intimacy, who I’ve hurt and what is means if I do, as well as how I react to those who hurt me. These are important things, these are legacies, these are what frames ones character. I hope my influence goes beyond my son only because I am here so far for 43 years and I’d like to have an impact. I don’t know if what I do in my life will be earth shatteringly important making the front page of the New York Times. I think that’s one of the reasons I work in a job where I can try and help other’s have some influence in the entertainment world.

I’d like people, such as the women I sponsor in 12 Step, to feel I’ve contributed to my life as they have mine – I’d like people who counted on me and whom I came through for to appreciate that. I’d like those who saw I was good and funny and kind to remember that and not listen to the crap that can sometimes be generated by my own bad press. I want my son to think I am the greatest person who ever lived and to see me as a human being who made mistakes but loved him through them all and to know he felt it every moment of the day. That’s what’s important.

In the meantime, a good deed a day has to have some impact and I’m going to work on achieving that in some regard as stated above – some one is feeling me, just as I feel the impact of people on me, those who may not think they mean a lot but do. We need to connect with one another and let people know they matter to us. We have to focus on what is outside ourselves with the same energy with which we focus on who we are and what we mean to the world. We may never know the answer or the number of people who have felt us, but this isn’t about keeping tabs. This is about living our lives in a complicated world, pouring out positive energy, helpful energy, compassionate energy when able and being open and available to receive the same.

NEW BLOG POST: Walking behind you.

I’ve been distracted and isolated. I’m not popular lately. I’m focused on my kid, that’s pretty much all. That and figuring out how to move forward, trying to shake my PTSD of the last year. I’m not succeeding greatly at this but every day I gain more clarity.

Teddy started a new camp this week, one that has nothing to do with his school (like the one earlier this summer), just a camp at the Westside JCC. Lots of kids and surprisingly we’ve seen several old classmates of his also starting camp this week. The first day I was shaken because one of the mom’s just blanked me. I am feeling like my whole life is blanking me lately and I didn’t need it from her and the Super Duper Happy Day Camp (yes, that’s really it’s name) OK?

I saw her. She saw me. I waved. She didn’t wave back. I went up to her, she brushed me off. OK, interesting and informative. The day before I was at Starbucks and saw a girl named Amy whom I know. I know it was her, she knew it was me. I looked at her and smiled to get her attention. She barely glanced at me and turned away. I know she’s a bit shy. OK, I guess I could have said something first. Then this afternoon I was in Starbucks again and I saw a woman I know who had two kids with her (when I last saw her she was pregnant with her first) and she looked right at me and I said “Wow, you have two now!” and she smiled a very haughty smile and made a phone call. I know she knows me, we’ve known one another for at least 7 years.

Am I fucking invisible? Am I this forgettable? I see a woman I used to be close friends with – we had brunch every Sunday for almost a year after my mother died and I see her on the street on occasion near the gym where she works and she walks right past me. I look the same. I haven’t changed much at all. Maybe it’s too much to say hi and get caught up, I get it – it’s just in combination with everything else right now, it bothers me.

Even on bloody Twitter I tweet people with definitive questions and they don’t respond. There is a whole group of women on here who think they are quite special and honestly, though some of them are very talented, I don’t get the not responding to tweets unless the person is a mad stalker (which I am not, I promise)

I email people in this (entertainment) business (a whole other story about the lack of communication here) and they don’t respond or it takes them days. I am busy, I have a full email box and I respond to every email within 24 hours. Is the world so up its own ass that they don’t have the time to acknowledge others and type a few words onto a computer or say hi?

People seem to be really scared to connect. I’m scared too, I have a history of being scared to connect but I attempt it at least. I have to in order to survive in this world as a human being and have a kid whose behavior I hope will reflect mine (the good bits at least). I can’t really justify looking someone in the eye that I know and not acknowledging them.

I must say I am feeling rather small. These events have not helped but I am probably not showing up very large either. I have a history of this and I’ve admitted it many times in groups but I’m going to do it here too – it helps break the shame and helps me keep growing – I have a very very horrifying admission to make:                                               My car broke down one late night in a rather dodgy neighborhood in LA. My passenger, who was very mad at me (not because of this) and whose approval I needed desperately, got out of the car and started walking towards a place she knew, several blocks away but it was very dark and really a terrible area. I asked if I could walk with her. She said “No, I’ll be fine”. I protested a bit, with both her safety and my need for emotional security in mind. She kept refusing. She really wanted to be rid of me. We were in bad phase of our business and personal relationship because I had stood up to her about something and she resented me. “Please”, I said. “Let me…….” Then, Oh God…I hate even writing it but it has to be done, I asked if I could at least walk behind her. Thud.

The response that came was as yours might be right now. “Ewwwww…” It was a low point for me, close to my bottom as they say. Is it ok if I walk BEHIND you? Gross. How humiliating for me.

“I cannot conceive of a greater loss than the loss of one’s self-respect.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

I am walking behind someone again – my true self. I can’t catch up because I’m not sure I know who or where she is anymore. So I walk at my snails pace, getting things done, but seeing the changes of my life and the people who have had kids and who I used to have play dates with and brunch with before Teddy was born, ignoring me, or just not wanting to deal with the chit chat. I don’t think there is anything wrong with me. I am a healthy, normal, intelligent, attractive, fun and funny person. I am a bit socially anxious, (uh, duh) and that has gotten me into some trouble in the past both professionally and personally.   At one point I was expected to be a client’s publicist because this multi-millionaire didn’t feel like hiring one for a few thousand a month then blamed me if there wasn’t enough publicity on her. I’m not a publicist. If you want me to be one, pay me and oh, ask me if I want to be one too.

I had always been told by this lovely lady that I was ‘not good in the field”. A back handed compliment if I ever heard one. But, however, she said, I was great behind the scenes. This is true. A good manager can be both, but behind the scenes is more important. The star is the star, not the manager. A publicist walks the red carpet with the celeb, not usually the manager. So keep me behind the scenes and let me excel instead of insisting on putting me in a place where I am telling you and you are agreeing that I am going to fail. I am speaking to myself as well as this other person. Saying “NO’ was not an easy thing to do.

I don’t walk behind people anymore. I am only a manager and I have created serious boundaries regarding my duties. I am very good behind the scenes and that’s for fucking sure. I say no and I try and acknowledge people I know. I answer Twitter questions, even ones that are critical of me or my blog. I am not above anyone else. I respond to emails; the answer isn’t always that the other wants to hear nor is it what I want to say but I say it with grace and manners.

I have always thought about who would come to my funeral. Morbid? Maybe. Would anyone care and what would they say? How will I be remembered? Have my mistakes outweighed my triumphs and positive points? Is anyone paying attention?  I have started living towards that eulogy. I want to have the traits and be the person who would be eulogized in a way that would make the angelic me looking down from above proud (yes, I think I’ll be above and not below). I am still working towards that goal and it changes on occasion. I want to be seen, but I will not spend my nights wearing a lot of makeup, sitting at a bar with a dress hiked up to there (I’ve done it, it’s nice for a while, it’s not me). I will be me, my best me (as often as I can be) with my best smile and my warmest eyes and I will call you back, I will email you back, I will not walk behind you and I will hold you to the promises you have yet to give me and I will not stop until I achieve that eulogy – one that would be honest and true, humorous and forgiving and one my son would be proud to hear.