2018: It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times

Time. A measurable dimension that simultaneously has the ability to seem immeasurable.

Time. A comprehensive ordering of past, present, and future.

Time. A record of our lives, a storybook both written and not yet penned.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.”

–Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

It’s a funny thing how one moment in time can move by at a pace so vastly different from one person to another. It’s why I stopped putting a timeline on hope, healing, love, change, and growth.

When I look back at the year and realize my friends in grad school only have one more year left–my, how quickly time flies.

When I reflect on the year incrementally–my, how fast time passes by.

When I think of the year as a whole–my oh my, how the clock ticked slowly by.

It wasn’t until a short but sweet Christmas card to me that I realized all that was January through December had only spanned 12 months. The card simply read: “I am so proud of all you have done this year.”

I had to double-check the dates on some of my blog posts from 2018, referencing electronic stamps that suspended my thoughts and experiences at one moment… in time. I feel so different from the way I felt a year ago. I’ve evolved so much from the woman I was ten, five, three years ago. In 2015, life gave me experiences. In 2018, I experienced life.

2018 was not monumental in the places I went or the people I met. It was monumental in the way I chose to direct my own path. It was made up of the feelings I felt, the decisions I made, and the strength I persevered. It was a year that started out moving slower than one day at a time, and ended with the exciting promise of tomorrow.

The big changes in my life last year hold less significance than the endurance and risk-taking it took to get there, the willpower and patience it took to listen to myself, and the wisdom it took to learn from my past to shape my present and invest in my future.

I don’t want to find myself saying at the end of next year, “There wasn’t enough time.” I’d like to think that instead I might say, “I made time.”

Nostalgic ’90s Toys & Games

Calling all 20 and 30-year-olds–and parents of! Do you remember any of these ’90s toys from our childhood? These were big in my family. No Furbies or Tamagatchis for us! While some of these games were definitely present in the ’80s and even still today, these are the ’90s versions. Be still my nostalgic heart!

1. Cootie

Source: Pinterest

The alternative to Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head for pre-schoolers.

2. Creepy Crawlers

Source: Throwbacks.com

Forget Easy Bake Ovens. How about making wiggly insects that sometimes glow in the dark!

3. Ker Plunk

Source: Picclick.com

A mix of Jenga and Pick-up Stix!

4. Mouse Trap

Source: Pinterest

In my house, this game always had missing or broken pieces and was quite a maze to put together but so much fun!

5. Hi Ho Cherry-O!

Source: Layton Music

Not gonna lie… my sisters and I played this game well into our teens.

6. Pizza Party

Source: Waheeda Harris

We used to play this on the beach during our summers on Lake Erie… also in our teens.

7. Picnic Panic

Source: Worthpoint

This was definitely one of my favorite games growing up, probably because I like food and picnics and you never knew when the picnic basket would pop open and ants would explode everywhere.

8. Ready! Set! Spaghetti!

Source: Pinterest

We always got a little carried away twisting the yarn “spaghetti” noodles around the toppings.

9. Rugrats

 

Source: This Is My Pop Cultured Life

 

Source: This Is My Pop Cultured Life

I was a huge Rugrats fan. Rugrats and Scooby-Doo! were my jam. This game was super complicated to set up and I would play it by myself in the corner of my room with my stuffed animals.

10. Mall Madness

Source: Children of the Nineties.com

Definitely made my parents play this with me two Christmasses ago. And I had a mini heart attack because I thought the electronic credit card and bank machine was broken. It was just extremely corroded but we fixed it! My dad gets a kick out of my impersonation of the recorded voices: “Your item costs 5 dollars more.” “Attention all shoppers, there is a sale at the ‘Chitchen store… and at… the Fashion Boutique.”

Do you remember any of these? What’s your favorite ’90s toys and games? Share in the comments below!

It Gets Better

Ten months ago, I thought life as I knew it would never be the same. In a way, I was right. I am a stronger person than I was 10 months ago and a better version of myself. But the difference is that I thought my world had been zapped of sunshine and butterflies, that I would forever be spluttering, drowning, splashing but never surfacing for a breath of air. I hated my new normal but it didn’t feel like anything would ever change.

I had forgotten that it was possible to wake up in the morning with a peaceful rhythm in my chest. I had forgotten it was possible to start my day without a tightness that made each breath calculated, or to sleep more than three hours in a night. I had forgotten what it felt like to really, truly live.

People promised me it would get better, but at the time, these seemed like false, rose-colored, unproven words of hope. Because I couldn’t see past the fog, so how could they?

But it did get better.

I have made some big changes since January that have shaped my days to be filled with light instead of darkness.

I went back to therapy.

I started seeing my therapist again and found myself looking forward to our weekly appointments. While I’ve been able to cut back to monthly or even every other month appointments, I still recognize and appreciate the value in having a licensed professional with whom to talk through the ups and downs of life.

I prioritized certain people over others.

Some people in my life have been catalysts to my pain. I cut ties whether directly or indirectly with people who discouraged me, judged me, disrespected me, or were straight up rude or mean to me.

This was extremely difficult for me to do because I really do love humanity, and I really do love the people I surround myself with. But it turned out I only loved some parts of some of these people because there were other parts of them that weren’t good to me or for me. When I realized this, I had a clear idea of who I needed to let go.

I moved.

I still live in Seattle, but I moved in with a new roommate in a new apartment. I feel comfortable in this home environment, something I hadn’t felt for the two years prior. That meant for two years I would go from an uncomfortable work environment (see below) to an uncomfortable living environment every day, which made me unable to unwind and just relax.

My new living situation (which isn’t so new anymore) is working out great. I don’t know what will happen when my lease is up, but I’m surprisingly not worried about it, which shows me how much progress I’ve made.

I got a guinea pig.

Cilantro Clementine aka Clemmy aka the best guinea pig in the world has made my days immensely brighter. She relies on me and I rely on her. When I start to feel anxious, I pick her up (if she isn’t already by my side or in my lap). Just by petting her, or getting kisses from her, or hearing her little noises, my heart is instantly happier. She helps me to remain in the present. It’s truly amazing how a teensy furball can make such a big impact.

I quit my job.

The final straw toward gaining back clarity, peace, and happiness turned out to be quitting my job. For two-and-a-half years, I had stayed afloat in a hostile work environment, thriving professionally but sinking personally. I was often cornered aggressively, literally blocked from escaping a barrage of negative commentary, blamed for things that weren’t my fault, and discredited for pivotal business accomplishments for which I’d gone above and beyond. Without my consent, I was forced to shift from a 32 to 46-hour work week and cover the work of two employees without additional compensation, all the while jeopardizing my creative careers and, most importantly, my mental health.

I had made leaps and bounds in nurturing my health since reaching my lowest low, and I realized this job was the only thing keeping me from progressing.

So I quit. After two years of striving weekly to make changes within the workplace, and a year of casually yet non-directionally looking for other job opportunities, I was exhausted. I had no energy or time to commit to job searching, and so finding a job before quitting simply wasn’t an option. A lot of people are scared to quit without anything lined up, and it certainly can be scary. But I wasn’t rash in this decision. I saved all the money I made from six months of overtime work and set it aside to help me transition.

After my co-worker and I were unjustly yelled at on the end of our shift one evening, I had this “Aha!” moment where I recognized I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I handed in my resignation the next day. Immediately, I felt that I really was going to be okay after all, that it really does get better. (Coincidentally, on my last day there, I found out I was cast in a theatre show.)

I changed careers.

I also made the decision to leave the veterinary field. Did you know the veterinary profession ranks number one in the national suicide rate? Did you know that veterinary professionals are two to four times more susceptible to mental illness than the general population? In speaking with half a dozen of my friends in the animal field who were also struggling with mental health and the same problems I had with this field of work–such as ethics and compassion fatigue–I thought about what jobs have made me the happiest. I made a list of my skills and objectives, and I set aside time every day (even today) to apply to jobs.

So I made the decision to transition out of the animal world, at least in my previous capacities, at least for now. Around this time, I was also given the opportunity to have my own animal web series, combining my love of animals with my love of writing and acting. It could not have been more serendipitous.

What’s the moral here?

It really can get better, and it will get better if you work at it. That’s the kicker though. It takes so much effort, so much strength and belief in yourself. It takes relying on others, being vulnerable and asking for help, but at the end of the day, it is only you who can pull yourself through to the other side.

It’s easy to doubt yourself and to doubt the words of hope when you feel so helpless and hopeless. But I promise you, it gets better.

Dear Joaquin

It’s been three years but I still think of you.

I remember you before, I remember you during, and I remember you after.

You don’t invade my dreams like you used to, robbing me of sleep each time I tried to close my eyes. You don’t make me nauseous like you did when I first met you. You don’t make me sob, but you can still make me cry.

I will never forget you, and I don’t want to forget you. But for far too long, you ran my life. You defined my fears and insecurities, my paranoia and my heartache. You were the catalyst to so many other terrible experiences, but in you I’ve also found a beacon of strength.

You destroyed everything in your path, and you threatened to destroy me. I am not impenetrable. But I am resilient, don’t you see?

As the homes were rebuilt, so did I rebuild the very bones that you had rattled for 36 hours straight and countless days and nights after.

As I sat drying and tossing and searching for the things you tried to take from me, I remembered that you took so much more from so many who had less.

As I listened to others share their stories, I realized I wasn’t alone, and together we rose from your ruins.

It’s been three years and I still think of you, but it’s different now. Good different.

RIP Hurricane Joaquin. You helped shape the woman I am today, and for that, I’m forever grateful.

 

Oct 14, 2015 (2 weeks later):

Hurricane Joaquin was terrifying in its before, during, and after. I am safe but my emotions are raw; the island is devastated. I have choked back vomit and tears more times than I can tally. You never expect when you take off on a dream to travel the world that the place you start to call your home can be ravaged so severely, so unforgivingly by Mother Nature. You never expect that you will get caught up 20 miles from the eye of a disaster that will live in history and meteorology as one of the most unexpected, unpredictable, perfect storms to date. You never expect to face so much fear and sadness, to flee your house, to hear survival stories of neighbors breaking through rooftops, clinging to trees, Duct taping identification to their bodies, crouching in a closet with two large dogs for 36 hours straight. Two days of 130, 145 mph winds–gusts clocked at 200. Two days of relentless storm surges. And an apocalyptic aftermath that leaves you empty.

I am writing this at a temporary communication tower with a crawling internet speed as the main tower was taken out by the storm, along with over 600 telephone poles in a 40-mile stretch. It took 1 hr to drive to it. Electricity is just being restored to parts of the island.

In my transient 6 months on Long Island, Bahamas, I’ve learned that what makes this place paradise more than its beautiful landscapes is its beautiful people. This is a resilient community. I don’t know how and I don’t know when but somehow, sometime, life will go back to normal.

If you would like to help, please, please do so. People have lost everything, including their source of income to rebuild. Contact SEACOR in Ft. Lauderdale to send food, water, building supplies, clothing, bedding, feminine hygiene products, and infant needs. Contact NEMA in Nassau, Bahamas for monetary donations. Private planes can transport supplies to the Stella Maris airport which has opened up here on Long Island.

Whether you pray, meditate, or simply ponder, please keep this island at the forefront of your mind now and in the indefinite future.

Oct 21, 2015 (3 weeks later): 

In the wake of Hurricane Joaquin, the support I’ve received from family and friends in every pocket of the globe has been humbling. I am a firm believer that no friendship is ever too small. In times like these, we lean on each other. I’m doing a lot of leaning. Please, people, if you ever need help, consider it a moment of strength, not weakness, when you choose to lean on someone. We are all we’ve got.

22 Things I’ve Learned Through Dating & Dumping

1. Honesty is the greatest attribute in a significant other, down to one’s selfless ability to tell the truth even if it means they are the one that causes pain.

2. Trust between two people should be earned, and trust between two people should be respected. Unfortunately, should be is not the same as will be.

3. Beware of taking things for granted. Gratitude never gets old, no matter how long you’ve been together.

4. You can be friends with some exes. You won’t likely be friends with all your exes.

5. There will be times you put your faith in someone and they let you down. If they let you down in the form of cheating, get out.

6. If you and your partner aren’t communicating, work on fixing it or else your relationship is doomed.

7. If he keeps you a secret from everyone else, run for the hills.

8. Learn each other’s love language.

9. Do not lose yourself in a relationship and don’t be anyone but yourself in a relationship.

10. If two people aren’t in the same place feeling-wise, the one who wants less always wins.

11. You have to get past the honeymoon phase before you’ll know if you two are really compatible.

12. Both people have to compromise in order for the relationship to flourish.

13. When you’re in a relationship with someone else, you’re still in a relationship with yourself. Don’t neglect that. Alone time is vital.

14. Sometimes a person will awaken your love without the intention of fully loving you. Sometimes that’s cowardice, sometimes that’s cruel, and sometimes that’s just life.

15. If he says he wants to focus on his career or isn’t ready for a relationship now, he’s really just not that into you. Find someone who would, if it came down to it, tell you if he’s just not that into you.

16. You can’t force someone to love you back.

17. There will be people you take a chance on, and there will be people who you know you can’t take a chance on. Not everyone deserves a chance; sometimes you’ll give chances that shouldn’t have been given. And that’s okay.

18. Dating is about learning what you want and need in a relationship. Your wants and needs might change, and so might theirs. What you can give might change, or it might not.

19. You deserve to be with someone who lifts you up, not someone who pulls you down.

20. Sometimes you’ll grow together. Sometimes you’ll grow apart.

21. You never know how many firsts you’ll have before you have your last firsts.

22. Never, ever, ever, ever settle.

30 Things I’ve Learned in 30 Years

I’m 30 and it feels good.

I wouldn’t change my past, but I have certainly learned from it. So here’s my 30-year-old self telling my 40-year-old, 50-year-old, and 60-year-old selves some words of wisdom that took me three decades to grasp.

1. Self care isn’t all about treat yo self.

It means shedding the parts of your life that are dragging you down so that you can be comfortable in the life that you have instead of running from it.

2. Listen to your heart and your body.

You should always be comfortable in your home, your job, and your relationships. If something about these situations is making you anxious, assess and reassess. It is likely time to move on.

3. Communicate without charge.

Emotions should not lead a conversation. Nothing will be accomplished and someone will likely get hurt.

4. Know your worth.

If a job or a relationship isn’t giving you what you deserve, step away from it.

5. Do what makes you happy.

Find happiness in the little things. Find joy in the common and uncommon, not the large and impressive. Karaoke is one of my favorite things and I stopped caring if people think that’s weird.

6. Learn from your past to live in the present and shape the future.

Neither run from your past, nor regret it, nor dwell in it. Use it to teach, encourage, and inspire others and yourself.

7. You don’t have to finish a book or movie if you’re not into it.

Time is precious. Downtime especially. These activities should be pleasurable. If you’re not into the story or style after 20 pages, find a new one.

8. Slow down.

I’ve become the smallest bit introverted and let go of my FOMO so that I can recharge my batteries and focus on me. (Don’t worry, I’m still crazy extroverted, too.)

9. Learn to say no.

You aren’t on this earth to please everybody. There is a time to put others first, and there is a time to put yourself first.

10. Learn to negotiate.

Hone this skill because you’ll use it a lot in life. Don’t let fear keep you from standing up for yourself.

11. Trust your gut.

It’s usually right.

12. The fear of failure is far worse than failure itself.

Take the plunge. You’ll get through it.

13. Always be curious.

Never stop seeking knowledge. The world is full of it, and we’ll ever only know a piece of it.

14. Be wary of opinions under the guise of advice.

Most people are giving you their opinion when you ask for advice.

15. Try new things.

Don’t let life become monotonous.

16. Find your balance.

I kickbox and I do yoga. 🙂

17. Reply to people.

Call, text, email… don’t leave people hanging. If you have time to pee, you have time to send a quick message. Ugh, and ghosting. Just don’t do it.

18. Maintaining close personal relationships shouldn’t take a lot of work.

They take effort and commitment–especially long distance–but they shouldn’t be exhausting or feel obligatory. But absolutely make the effort to keep in touch with people you care about who mutually care about you.

19. Have friends who are different than you.

Don’t surround yourself only with people who are similar to you. That only creates closed-mindedness.

20. Watch as many sunrises and sunsets as you can.

It reminds you of the important things in life.

21. Make short-term goals to reach long-term goals.

Otherwise, procrastination happens.

22. Sleep and eat right.

Make sure you’re getting enough sleep every night to function normally. It affects so much.  Along with good sleep, eating healthy is fuel for a clean body and mind.

23. Take vacation, sick, and personal days.

You earned them.

24. Build yourself up, don’t pull yourself down.

Constantly work at gratitude and encouragement for yourself. You deserve to be confident in who you are.

25. Spend money on what makes you happy and don’t judge others for how they spend theirs.

Everyone’s budget is different. Don’t force yourself to pay money for something just to fit in, and don’t look down on someone who opts not to shell out their money when you choose to.

26. Don’t put too much energy into trying to fill the holes in your life with things that don’t matter.

Concern yourself with memories, not impressions.

27. Be able to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

It gives you perspective you didn’t think you needed.

28. You can be strong and fragile at the same time.

You can be a lot of paradoxes, actually. I’m a walking oxymoron.

29. Don’t compare yourself to others.

Live your own authentic life.

30. You are worthy of love and you are never a burden.

I have to remind myself of this almost daily, but I’m slowly recognizing its truth.

What is one thing you would tell an older or younger version of yourself? Share your words of wisdom in the comments below!

The Doney Clinic: A Free Vet Clinic for Homeless People & Their Pets

This is Angel. She lives on the streets of Seattle with her dad. When I met Angel, I told her dad he named her perfectly because she was a real sweetheart. He looked at me without a beat and said, “She is my best friend.”

Last Saturday was my first day volunteering with the Doney Clinic, a free vet clinic for homeless and low-income people to bring their pets. Every other Saturday, two dozen volunteers set up mobile veterinary services and a pet supply donation center in the basement of the Union Gospel Mission Men’s Shelter. Angel and her dad were the first pet-parent couple I met. They were near the front of the line that stretched all the way down and around the block. They had been waiting in the cold for six hours so that Angel could get free winter clothes, food, toys, a harness, and a check-up.

Angel was one of a hundred dogs and cats that came through the doors that Saturday. Amidst the chaos, we clipped nails, cleaned ears, drew blood, gave vaccines, and more. I helped a homeless woman bundle her long-haired Dachshund back up in his winter coats. She instructed me that the clothes were put on in a specific order. The pink jacket was the first of the six coats to go on her furry companion. It would drop below freezing that night.

Every single person that came through the clinic was extremely grateful for our services—I mean extremely grateful. But I found myself thanking them for coming in, for being such caring and doting pet parents, and for helping to restore some of my own faith in humanity.

Admittedly, volunteering here for me isn’t a selfless endeavor. I’m trying to fill a void in my heart that’s calling for me to give back more to this wonderful planet and amazing community that has done so much for me. I’m trying to understand the individuals behind the homeless epidemic, trying to find a channel for my compassion that doesn’t compromise my safety.

I will be journaling about my experiences with the Doney Clinic every month in an effort to help the clinic continue its services and to share my own transformative journey looking in the eye  people and animals that too often are passed by.

Under the streets of Pioneer Square in the heart of downtown Seattle in a bustling basement on a cold winter day, I saw hope and a reciprocated love that, between man and his best friend, remains unconditional.

10 Reasons My College Improv Troupe Was Some of the Best People I’ll Ever Meet

It would have been easy to be the outcast when I joined my college improvisational comedy troupe. I was different and naive in so many ways—a sober, prude, Catholic girl with zero fashion sense tossed into a hodgepodge of intelligent, talented, funny students who made witty political commentary and iconic pop culture references that sailed far above my bouncing ponytail.

I could have been singled out for navigating college in an unorthodox way and not having the common knowledge to understand that Bono is a person, not a thing, but somehow, these people found their way onto my list of favorite humans. And if you ask them, I’d venture to guess that one of their favorite things about me is the fact that I am so different.

In college, I was lucky to land myself in an improv troupe that treated me like family. Being a member of Ohio Wesleyan University’s Babbling Bishops might very well be my fondest college experience. This group of humorous souls trickled their way into my heart and became some of the best people I’ve ever known, and here’s why.

They know empathy.

Good actors are empathetic. In order to portray someone else–funny or not–you have to be able to put yourself in their shoes. My improv friends are the type of empathetic people who have embarked upon career paths that actively give back to others and fill a great void in this world, from artists to scientists to mental health professionals and beyond.

They understand patience.

In order to be a successful (read: entertaining) improv troupe, everyone has to practice together. It takes time and effort to reach that level of group mind where you’re so fast on your feet with each other that the audience feels like they’re watching a scripted comedy of errors. The best improv team doesn’t take jabs for cheap laughs but rather slowly builds up a scene until the audience is guffawing and chortling like your weird aunt at Thanksgiving dinner.

They practice inclusivity.

The most challenging, authentic, open-minded conversations I had regarding my Catholic faith occurred with my atheist improv friends. Comedy isn’t determined by your religion, skin color, gender identity, sexuality, or physical appearance. You can be a frizzy-haired, pimpled, handicapped, biracial lesbian or you can be a buff, straight, cisgendered hunk of a man. The one with the skills to be a team player in an improv comedy show makes the troupe.

They engage supportively.

Improv is a team activity, not an individual one. When a member is struggling on or off the stage, the group is there to pick you up. When I was in the hospital with a head injury, my improv troupe piled into cars and drove forty minutes on a school night to visit me. When I couldn’t perform for a month because of subsequent speech problems, they let me introduce the shows and watch from the stage.

They exude compassion.

During an improv show, you don’t want your partner to fail, so you don’t leave them hanging out to dry. Then and now, few people have offered me more compassion in my break-ups, career changes, anxiety struggle, and battle with Lyme disease than these humans that I acted like a fool with in college.

They live honestly.

Comedians are funny people, which means you generally see them as happy people. But those who have the highest of highs can also have the lowest of lows. Many of my improv friends are open publicly or personally about their life struggles. They share the good and the bad on social media, actively encouraging others to live authentically.

They take risks.

Achieving group mind requires being vulnerable with each other. In a show, you put yourself out there regardless of whether or not you get a laugh. The improvisers who surrounded me in college are the ones who hiked the Appalachian Trail, traveled on a cross-country amends road trip, and took a giant leap from the secure present with no idea about the future because they believed in themselves enough to make it to the other side.

They seek self-awareness.

Being an improviser means knowing your strengths and weaknesses. My troupe members have consistently expanded their quest for mindfulness beyond the theatre, searching for who they are and what their place is in this world. If they can’t find their purpose, they make one.

They stand committed.

On stage, you can’t abandon your partner. You ride through the bumps in a rocky scene until you get to the end. Now, post-graduation and full-on adult-living, we’re still friends, no matter the geography or complications that arise. Improvisers don’t run away from difficult conversations and they don’t turn their backs on their choices.

They are carefree.

All of us in the Babbling Bishops have our insecurities, but we’re also the ones you’ll see dancing like escaped zoo animals in the bar, in the kitchen, in the grocery store, or at the bus stop, with absolute and complete reckless abandon, with no care to the eyebrows raised in our direction. We carpe diem, baby, because we know we only have one chance at life on earth, and we’re going to choreograph our way through it however we darn well please.

In no other group of people have I ever been more different but felt more accepted than with the Babbling Bishops. We share a bond that no distance or time can shake.

Improv taught me skills to pave my way through life as an adult. It also granted me lasting friendships with people that I look up to, good people whose accomplishments and existence constantly inspire me to be a better person. Somehow, I was lucky enough to become an unlikely member of a family of hilarious yet compassionate misfits.

 

Give the Gift of a Personalized Book on Turtles This Holiday Season!

It’s that time of year again when we scour the Internet for the perfect gift idea. I’m gearing up for the holiday season with a big shipment of my book: 254 pages of fun and informative turtle facts in Q&A format–with pictures, of course!

I’ve received terrific feedback from kids through adults who love the short and easy-to-read “chapters” as well as learning so much about such an incredible species. Animals really are amazing!

If you’d like to purchase a personalized copy, shoot me an email to smvenzel@gmail.com. Order soon to get yours in time for Christmas!

(If you already have a copy, please consider leaving a review on Amazon! Yippee!)

Acting: To Be Me or Not to Be Me? That Is the Question

Yesterday, I came across a quote by Indie Wire writer David Ehrlich in his review of this year’s leading Oscar nominees. He said:

“Great acting isn’t about becoming someone else so much as it’s about becoming who you really are.” 

The sentiment hit me hard, because I’ve been analyzing my character work in film and theatre, trying to find what most challenges me as well as put into words why I feel so entranced by becoming another character.

I’ve written about theatre’s role in my anxiety management, how taking on a role forces me to set aside my fears and worries and more or less literally be in someone else’s shoes for a moment.

But what if instead of closing a door on my present self, acting opens up that door? What if acting lets me see who I am beneath my anxiety, lets me tap into my deep emotions, helps me gain further perspective?

The most challenging theatrical role I’ve had to date was playing Lt. Cdr. JoAnne Galloway in “A Few Good Men.” My friend John played the enemy, Colonel Jessup, for which he delivered a stand-up performance. About a year ago, John and I were reminiscing about the show and what makes a good actor. We both agreed that strong actors don’t just act, they react.

John and I also talked about how both of us are incredibly empathetic people–to the point that my empathy can be debilitating–and that this innate trait allows us to take to the stage and transform for a few hours into real or fictional characters. We can act out their life experiences because we are actually feeling them.

Fusing this idea of empathy with Ehrlich’s quote, maybe I love acting so much because, like writing, it’s a way for me to create and express, no holds barred. It’s a way for me to feel and learn about others…and about myself. It’s a way for me to be me.

What do you think makes a good actor? Share your thoughts in the comments below.