Last night I told a story in a virtual storytelling show in Costa Rica. It was the second time this month that I was telling a story for this show. I met the host, a woman named Anastasia, while standing in line outside of Housing Works in New York City before a Moth StorySLAM last year.
Anastasia listens to the Speak Up Storytelling podcast and recognized my voice as I was speaking to my friend.
Small world.
Last week, I told a story for a show in Australia. It was the first time I’ve ever performed before the sun had actually risen. In the past month, I’ve also told stories for shows in London, Boston, and New York. As a result, I’ve made new friends and fans, some of whom will be joining for my solo show on Saturday night.
This is a time of great uncertainty for so many of us. The health and safety of ourselves and our loved ones are in great jeopardy. Some of us – myself included – have friends in the hospital, battling COVID-19.
Some of us have already lost loved ones to this terrible disease.
Millions of Americans face unemployment as businesses shutter and employees are furloughed, laid off, or fired. Financial insecurity abounds.
Uncertainty is incredibly difficult to manage. Not knowing when the world will return to normal or if your loved ones will be left unscathed is one of the most challenging aspects of this pandemic. In the space of just a couple weeks, our world changed in ways it’s never changed before. Across the globe, people sit, wait, and hope that solutions are found.
None of this is easy.
But I’ve also been reminding people that uncertainty breeds opportunity if you allow yourself to be open to the possibility. As dark as these days have been, there is often glimmers of light if you’re willing to be open to possibility.
For me, this period of uncertainty has allowed me to tell stories to hundreds of people around the globe. Audience members who I never would’ve met had the world not turned upside down. Yes, I’ve already lost more than two dozen paid speaking, consulting, and teaching jobs, and it’s probably just the tip of the iceberg. I make a good portion of my living by standing in front of large numbers of people in crowded spaces, and it could be months or years before those opportunities ever return. That lost income will never be recovered. But even in the face of these economic losses, I’m still trying to find ways to increase my reach, expand my audience, and connect to more and more people as a large source of my income evaporates.
Looking for opportunity in this uncertainty. Seeking those slivers of light.
Uncertainty has also introduced me to brand new digital teaching tools. It’s required me to learn new strategies and skills as I try to stay connected with my students via distance learning and teach them in the best way possible. When this pandemic has finally passed and I can return to my classroom, I will be a better teacher as a result of this time, more equipped to engage my students in the digital world.
This will never make up for the lost time in the classroom. It doesn’t make the staggering losses that my students are facing any better. I teach fifth grade – the last year of elementary school – and these last two months of school are dominated by celebration and tradition.
None of this is likely to happen for my kids, and it breaks my heart. But I will be a better teacher moving forward. Better for every student that follows. Small slivers of light.
Uncertainty forced me onto my bike when my gym closed, and almost overnight, I rediscovered my childhood love for biking. I’m riding 10-15 miles per day now, exploring my town and the surrounding communities and loving the time spent outdoors. I’ve biked for 22 straight days, in rain and cold and sun, and I can’t imagine stopping when my gym finally reopens.
I may not go back.
On these rides, I’ve also begun photographing things of interest, which has led me to classes on YouTube about iPhone photography and a MasterClass on the subject with Annie Leibovitz. I’m not sure if anything will come of this newfound interest in photography. I’m the least visual person who I’ve ever met, so I suspect that I will never be even a good photographer.
But I’m enjoying it. Finding opportunity via uncertainty.
On Saturday, I’ll be teaching my first storytelling workshop and performing my first solo show online in partnership with the MOPCO Improv Theater in Schenectady, New York. This is something I’ve never done before, but happily, based upon the number of people registered so far, it’s something people want, at least in these strange days.
It won’t be nearly the same as gathering together in the same space, but I have students from five countries and nine different states attending the workshop, so perhaps there is merit in this model. Perhaps it will become something I continue to offer in the future.
I’ve also launched a six-week online storytelling workshop, too, in order to replace some of the advanced storytelling workshops that were cancelled. It’s based upon a real-world model that I used when I first started teaching storytelling years ago. It sold out in four hours. Again, perhaps I’ve found something that people are interested in doing, and it may be something I continue to offer even as the world returns to normal.
My latest idea is to offer storytelling workshops to families. I’d teach each member of the family to tell a story (ideally a story that they’ve never shared with their family before), and then, once everyone is prepared to perform, the entire family gathers in the living room for their own storytelling show.
Elysha or I could even host the show remotely.
It’s my attempt to bring live, in-person storytelling back into a world where strangers can no longer gather to share stories.
Will people be interested in this model? I’m not sure. But we live in a time of uncertainty, so I’m looking for possibility.
Next week I’ll be announcing a plan to make myself available to speak with book clubs remotely for a donation to one of three COVID-19 related charities. In a time when I feel helpless to assist the doctors, nurses, and patients who are battling this disease, I’m seeking ways to use my talents to help them.
There’s more.
During this time of pandemic, I’m writing a two-person musical with a friend that we plan to perform ourselves once it’s done, even though I can’t sing. But it occurs to me that a two-person musical might be just the thing we need as we emerge from this pandemic. While it may take time for larger theater companies and large-scale productions to get back on their feet, a nimble, easy-to-produce, two-person show might be just the thing that theaters need as they look to reopen their doors.
I’m keeping a pandemic journal, thinking it may eventually become a memoir of my time spend in Coronaland. I’ve pitched myself once again to MasterClass, forcefully so this time, thinking that what I have to offer is more valuable than ever. I’ve submitted pieces to the New York Times, Boston Globe, and Hartford Courant, and I’ve even managed to get one of them published. With the launch of my new website, I’m learning to use WordPress, experimenting while trying not break the outstanding work that my developer has done in launching my new website. I’m learning to cook like never before.
Best of all, this uncertainty has given me the chance to spend unprecedented time with my children. We’re riding our bikes. Scootering. Watching movies together. Playing board games. I’m cooking breakfast for them everyday, chatting with them as they eat rather than running out the door to work. Most of all, I’m just listening to them. Sitting silently, listening to them chat with each other and talk to themselves. I watch as they play with toys. Crack jokes. Entertain the cats.
It’s the essence of opportunity through uncertainty. It’s my chance to spend the more time with my children than I ever imagined. I’m trying to soak it all in. Write it down. Photograph and record these moments.
Every day I seek new opportunity. A chance to make something positive of these tragic circumstances.
Every day I look for a little light.
I’m certainly not pie-in-the-sky. I know I’ve been incredibly fortunate that my family has managed to stay healthy. I know how lucky we are to still be working and making a difference in the lives of our students. I know how blessed we are in so many ways.
I also know that many families are struggling mightily, and for them, opportunity through uncertainty is not possible. For many, getting through the day, week, and month is hard enough.
It’s hard to find light when all is dark. If you are unemployed or hooked to a ventilator or planning the funeral of a loved one that you cannot attend, opportunity through uncertainty is a ridiculous concept.
For those folks, my heart goes out to them. I’m hoping and wishing for a return to normal more for them than anyone else.
But if you’re in a position to look for light, I suggest you do. Don’t allow yourself to become consumed by the dark. Look for opportunities big and small.
Find and gather any light that you can.
