The Speech Someone You Love Needs to Hear Right Now

I know you’re feeling angry and sad right now. Maybe a little lonely. Definitely overwhelmed, because you’re working a ton and barely keeping your head above water, getting paid little to no money to do the thing you feel like you were put on this earth to do. It’s exhausting, physically, mentally, emotionally, and creatively.

I imagine it’s quite a roller coaster ride, from the highs of working with people you love, doing things that inspire you, to the lows of rejection as you put yourself out there, over and over again, in the hopes of getting the next thing.

If you’re anything like me, you’re probably oscillating between feelings of, “Wow, I’m pretty good at this,” and, “I have no idea what I’m doing.” Or, “I’m so lucky,” and “Did I piss off a witch?” “I can’t believe this is my life,” and, “I can’t believe this is my life,” which is the exact same sentence, but has totally different meanings depending on how you say it.

The first thing I want to tell you is that I’m proud of you. This shit isn’t easy. Not everybody can do it. Not everybody should do it. It asks a lot of us, especially when we’re young. When people expect us to work for exposure, or we’re spending our own money for the experience. When we know where we want to get to but it seems so far away. There’s no magic elevator to get to that level. It is one audition, one job, one practice session, one class, one move at a time. Repeat, repeat, repeat. It’s hard work.

Rejection is hard on the heart. I still take it personally, from time to time. But, the heart is a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it gets. Having an ability to withstand an onslaught of “no’s” is the single biggest predictor of long term sustainability and success. The only way to cultivate that skill is to go out and collect a bunch of them. Get your “no” reps in.

The second thing I want to tell you is that you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. You are pure unbounded potential. Your drive, your love for your art, your talent, is absolutely combustible. When you shine, you light reflects on the rest of us. It’s a gift.

You’re right not to let other people hold you back. You’re right not to let them put limitations on you. You have one job right now, which is to follow your path, like an arrow to the target, for as long as it is feels right to you. (Which doesn’t mean you get to be a jerk about it. Do it with some grace.)

There will be missteps. You will make mistakes. There will be times when you feel like giving up altogether. Sometimes you’ll need to rest. Rest isn’t quitting. Take a breath. Breath is necessary for life. Whenever you’re ready, get back in the fight.

Over time, your view of success may change. Your goals may change. You will most certainly change. It’s okay to evolve. In fact, what you do demands evolution. How boring would your work be if you were the exact same person twenty years from now? Change is not death. Change is necessary.

Speaking of necessary, it’s okay and normal to feel all the things you’re feeling right now. I’ll go one step further and say that it’s essential. It’s part of what makes you human, and your humanity is key to making great work.

Take advantage of every opportunity. Be the kind of person you would want to have on your own team. Build other people up. All that stuff you’re feeling now, the doubt and insecurity, believe me, everybody else is feeling it too.

I’ve often found that the quickest way to build myself up is to put somebody else on my shoulders. To let them know that you think they are spectacular. (Which is part of why I’m writing this letter to you now.)

I’ve been out of school for a little over thirty years. I’ve made a ton of mistakes. I’ve gone through long periods where I felt like I’d been cursed. I’m going through one of those periods right now. I know this is just the nature of the thing I’ve chosen. (Or the thing that chose me. Some days I’m not so sure.)

What keeps me going is that, regardless, I know this is what I was put on this earth to do. It’s the best thing of me that I have to contribute. It’s also still just really fun. (For the most part.)

For all the difficulty, for all the painful parts, this is an extraordinary life. I know you’ve already experienced some of what I’m talking about. It’s not just a job, or a craft. It becomes a way of looking at the world. There is collaboration and camaraderie. When you’re lucky to find a group of people as devoted as you are, you can achieve things that would never be possible on your own.

There are times it will feel like genuine magic. It is.

And, so are you.

Hello, and welcome to Character Is Destiny, a newsletter about using the tools of dramatic storytelling to live a better life! This week, I’m talking about:

The Big Speech is one of my favorite storytelling tools. As I was preparing to write about it for this newsletter, I realized it’s more than just a tool, that maybe someone in my life needed to hear words of encouragement and inspiration right now. So, I wrote the letter above.

One of the most famous big speeches is The St. Crispin’s Day speech from Shakespeare’s HENRY V. It’s the speech Henry gives just before The Battle of Agincourt, which takes place on St. Crispin’s Day.

Henry and his men are vastly outnumbered by the French. He overhears his cousin wishing that they had more of the layabouts back in England to join them. Henry realizes he has to turn the tide and build the men’s morale, so he gives them a rousing speech that appeals to their sense of honor, patriotism and camaraderie. This is where we get the phrase, “Band of brothers.” I fell in love with this speech when I first saw it in Kenneth Branagh’s terrific HENRY V adaptation..

My favorite modern version is from ANY GIVEN SUNDAY. It was written by John Logan, who is hands down one of the best writers for TV and film today, and delivered by Al Pacino, who is… Al Pacino..

(Writers, take note: one of the common denominators that you’ll see in speeches like this is repetition of a phrase or an idea that builds in intensity, almost like a ritual drum beat. Henry plants a rhetorical flag on the name St. Crispin’s day and uses that idea to rally his men, every mention of it driving home the idea that they will remember this day and hold their heads high. For ANY GIVEN SUNDAY it’s “one inch.” For FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS it’s “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.”)

I used to joke that I cried once per act watching the FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS series. Part of it is that I come from a Friday night lights kind of town. I still listen to The Ironton Fighting Tigers on iHeart Radio every Friday night in the fall. It’s in my DNA. But it was also thanks to Coach Taylor's inspirational speeches every week.

I think this trope works on me because everybody faces an “all is lost” moment at some point in their lives. A business venture fails. We get a bad diagnosis. A long-term relationship falls apart. A big dream suddenly seems out of reach. One of the most heartbreaking things I can imagine is the loss of all hope. A team, an army, a person without hope, struggles to find a reason to go on. Every now and then, we need someone else to keep hope alive.

To me, the real magic of these speeches is that they redefine the idea of victory. They give people a reason to act, regardless of the outcome.

Henry doesn’t promise his men they’re going to win. Instead, he appeals to their honor, and sense of legacy. Al Pacino’s big speech is about living and dying for “one inch” in life, that committing a hundred per cent may not win the game but you will damn sure lose without it. Coach Taylor didn’t guarantee his team that they would win state, only that what they did on the field matters to the men they will become.

I’m always moved by the idea that even in our darkest moments, as long as one person can keep that flicker alive and communicate their belief to other people, they can set fire to the hearts of others. Together, they can achieve the impossible, or be all the better for trying.

Looking back at your life, who gave you the big speech in a moment when you desperately needed to hear it?

Think about the people in your life right now. Who is going through a hard time? who is facing a hopeless situation? Who needs to hear the big speech from you? Sit down and write it. You don’t have to be Shakespeare or John Logan. Speak from the heart. The Big Speech doesn’t have to actually be a BIG SPEECH on a battlefield, or in a locker room. It can be a letter, a voicemail, or a really long text message.

Whether you send it or not is up to you. But, I wouldn’t be surprised if, after writing it, you discover that there’s someone else who really needed to hear it… you.

Art knows that you need time away. That life, work, illness, kids, may require your attention. When you’re ready, those notebooks, pens, brushes, canvas, the out of tune guitar, the piano gathering dust in the corner, will be there waiting. No apology necessary. Try telling “the business” that you need a couple of years off to care for an ailing parent. It will not remember you upon your return. But art will be there, patiently waiting. Saying, “Show me what you’ve learned.”

As I was writing this, I came across a perfect example that spoke to me on a deep level about what I’m feeling right now. If you’re a creative person worried about AI and what it means for us, check out this speech by Jack Conte, CEO of Patreon and member of the band Pomplamoose:

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