Regular readers of this blog will know that I’m a fan of the TV show This Is Us. I’ve made references to it a few times already on this blog. Still, it seems to be the gift that keeps on giving, because a few days ago I was reminded of an episode that left me with what I consider to be an important life lesson, important enough to want to share it with you.
In Episode 17 of Season 1, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and plagued with seemingly endless disappointment, one of the main characters, Kevin decides to finance and star in a play on Broadway. This was all happening amidst a backdrop of life failures and a visceral need to prove himself, so naturally Kevin had a lot riding on the play. Needless to say, the play run had to go well, and to stand a chance of that, the opening night had to be a hit with the reviewers. Kevin had identified one particular reviewer, Brandon Novak, whose write-up could make or break the opening night's reception and set the tone for the rest of the play run. The problem was, Kevin couldn’t seem to convince Novak the reviewer to come to the opening night, because Novak didn’t think it would be worth his time. This left Kevin in a state of limbo as he geared up for the opening night, and not knowing whether Novak would be in the audience left Kevin with a bad case of anxiety.
The moment of truth arrived as Kevin walked on stage. There he was, starring in his own play, the opening night he’d been working towards for weeks and months had materialised, his friends and family and a host of theatre lovers were there to watch him, but the only thing on his mind was whether Novak was in the audience. As he scanned the audience with that one thought – whether this make-or-break reviewer had honoured his invitation to attend his play – he spotted the empty seat where Novak should have been, and for a moment he was crushed. For a moment. Because although he didn’t get what he’d hoped for, something that would likely impinge on the success of his play, he shifted his focus from the empty seat without the reviewer to all the seats occupied by his family, his friends, and all those who’d come to see his play.
This got me thinking about how often we look out for empty seats instead of occupied ones. How often do we focus on all the things that haven’t gone our way instead of the things that have? How often do we fixate on the opportunities that have passed us by? And what would happen if we instead repurposed that energy and channelled it into focusing on what we already have? I know I find myself feeling bad about all the gigs and festivals I don’t get to play, and all the book proposal rejections I’ve had. I know it’s natural to dwell on these things because we’ve evolved to place more emphasis on negative stimuli over positive ones, and yet I can’t help but feel like I’d be better off if I made a conscious effort to go against my nature and focus on the things that matter, as opposed to the things that life puts in front of me. It is tempting to want to dwell on the missed opportunities and the near misses, but rather than fixating on what isn't there, it behoves us to be like Kevin and focus on what is.
P.S.: My debut non-fiction book, Art Is The Way, and my middle-grade novella, A Hollade Christmas, are out everywhere now. You can get them in all good bookstores and from all major online vendors.