Thank you so much for auditioning for --. Over the last few days, we saw an overwhelming amount of talent. Unfortunately, due to the volume of submissions we received, we are unable to accept you…
No, I don’t want to go to your show to be reminded of why I wasn’t good enough. I don’t want to pay x amount of dollars to take a class to see how I might improve for next time.
What I do want, however, are the cookies hovering next to me, comforting me with their non-judgmental aroma. Or the alcohol greeting me seductively above the shelf. Perhaps, even, the pack of cigarettes hiding nearby for the ‘emergency only’ situations. I want to numb myself out, let the self-loathing swallow me in a destructive haze.
Or I can do something about it.
Over the last month, I have received seven rejections. About two per week – enough to let the grief subside only to have it kick you in the face again a few days later. I’m used to hearing ‘no’ at this point, but lately I’ve been on a roll.
A good friend of mine sent me an article about how artists should aim for 100 rejections per year: http://lithub.com/why-you-should-aim-for-100-rejections-a-year/. In the same vein, one of my recent group therapy sessions encouraged us to try a 30 day challenge to help improve our self-esteem:
https://www.ted.com/talks/matt_cutts_try_something_new_for_30_days. My goal has been daily meditation, which, other than the two days where I genuinely forgot, I’ve actually managed to stick with. It feels good.
I have a new objective; one that requires an exhausting amount of self-compassion and vulnerability. For the next month, I will apply to something every day in the hopes that I get rejected.
And just as I finish writing this blog, I get an email offering me an interview. Let’s see how much I can fuck this one up ;)