The show

must go on

I fell off a horse on the weekend. That in and of itself is unremarkable. Ordinary fools fall off horses everyday. When I fell, I landed clean on my back. Moving is moderately difficult. Each moment is risky. Each movement could hurt. I can hear you now: So what?

Exactly. So what? Today I’m tasked with interviewing the employees of an organic aquaponics cannabis company. They’ve won awards. They’re expecting me. Dates have been set. A crew has been assembled. The show must go on.

This was the same during any number of calamities through life. The couple getting married did’t need to know about the cancer diagnosis at home. I was the DJ. The show had to go on. It wasn’t about me.

As a creative who shows up to tell a story, lead a group or care for others, the show frequently is all about us. People pay attention to what we say. People need what we do. There’s a secret there.

When we think that things are about us?

They’re not.

They’re about us showing up for someone else.

That’s the magic. I…