reward Archives - Julianne Harvey

In Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting

When Dreams Don’t Die

Julianne HarveyMarch 16, 2017March 16, 2017

Some dreams don’t die because they aren’t supposed to. They live on, growing silently in us until one day they bloom again and we remember how exquisitely we once longed for this particular wish to come true.

I’m learning acceptance right now. It’s one of my three words to focus on in 2017 and it’s a beautiful experience simply to practice accepting what comes without forcing it or coaxing circumstances to go my way. What happens is what is meant to happen, or so I finally believe in my experience as much as my verbiage, and the freedom inside of this discovery is as sweet as nectar.

This week I worked as an extra on a big TV series shot in Vancouver. All day, from my brutally early 6 am call until I was wrapped in the late afternoon, I felt like I was waking up to a dream that had become dormant but never really went away. I was able to access a much-younger version of myself through the experience, waving at her through the years to say, “I see you and now I can reach you.”

I’ve loved the film industry my entire life, writing screenplays since I was in my teens and sort of hanging around on the fringes of this life I dreamed of but couldn’t quite access. Now, somehow, I’m 44 years old and my almost 14-year-old daughter is pursuing an acting career and I’ve found myself back where I always wanted to be.

Our biggest dreams are always worth pursuing. But at certain times in our lives, other people and circumstances take priority and we don’t have the time or the resources or the abilities to go after our heart’s desire. No matter how many years go by, however, the flame is still burning inside of us for those things we are meant to do, and when we find ourselves touching that dream again it’s like a bit of pure magic.

I felt that this week. I remembered how much I loved filmmaking in my student days and for the glorious six days I worked on the TriStar lot in Culver City as a Production Assistant on a feature film. A lot of other worthy pursuits have occupied me from those days until now, 25 years later, but the profound joy of walking out this beautiful dream has never fully left me. It burst back into life when I was on set doing my part to make the scenes we shot sparkle and shine.

As Ava and I move through some exciting steps in her growing career, I feel a deep, abiding peace and gratitude. Big dreams are for everyone. They are not for a select few with talents beyond the rest of us. They are for anyone brave enough to simply go for it, no matter what the end result turns out to be.

The journey truly is the reward (as so many people have said to me but I never really understood until this year). When you choose to live in the present moment, refusing to forecast the future or stress out about what’s done and finished, you get to absorb each day as the fresh gift it is. Anything is possible. Your dreams are not as far away as you thought.

So if you have a big dream that you’ve veered far away from, remember that the pilot light for that hope is still burning in your soul. When the time is right, it will be there for you again, and you’ll recognize its warmth and light. You’ll be flooded with joy and renewed optimism. Suddenly you’ll be certain that it’s not too late. As long as you are alive, you can make your dreams come true provided you believe that you are worth the effort and you don’t give up.

In Books, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

In the Game

Julianne HarveyOctober 6, 2015October 5, 2015Leave a comment

This week, I’m presenting my seminar, It’s On You: Taking Responsibility for your Choices, to 125 students in grades 6-8. It’s new material, and I’m not as familiar presenting to teens and tweens as I am to younger kids or to adults.

So it was a growing edge. We all have these, if we are challenging ourselves. I love Rob Bell’s reminder that “butterflies are good because they mean you are in the game.”

When something seems hard, that often means it’s worth doing. The reward is in the risk. You step out, unsure of the outcome, believing that when the chips are down, you will have what you need to complete the task.

I used to overthink everything. My mind would race ahead, attempting to cover every possible zig and zag, producing nothing but anxiety and despair. For this seminar, I decided to try putting my energy into my own confidence instead of all the eventualities that I cannot control.

I prepared, to the best of my ability, by going through the slides and recording my delivery so I could listen to it and fix the problem areas. I went for long walks and imagined myself relaxed and happy when in front of the students. I asked a few specific friends to encourage me leading up to the presentation – to cheer me on and remind me that I was up to the challenge.

Every one of these things helped to make the seminar a success. Planning, positive visualization, and organized cheerleading. When we step out in vulnerability, asking for what we need for a challenge we are facing, we can better prepare for a happy outcome.

I just read Jenny Lawson’s hilarious book, Furiously Happy, and author Neil Gaiman gives her this piece of advice when she had to record her audiobook: “Pretend you’re good at it.” I found that to be helpful on the morning of my first seminar. It’s like playing a trick; pulling the wool over people’s eyes by acting as if I was a polished, confident speaker when really my stomach was jumping up and down before I got up to speak.

My first slide in It’s On You is about cutting the tie that connects your inner sense of value with your outside performance. It feels healthy to practice this skill myself. To know that I am worthy of love and care, whether I deliver a successful seminar or fall flat on my face (or somewhere in between).

The risk is the reward. It helps us grow, to shoot for more the next time around, to bank up our trust in our abilities and skills. We simply do the very best we can, knowing that it’s better by far to have tried than to give in to our fear and back down from a challenge. It’s enough just to be in the game.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Writing

Claiming Creativity

Julianne HarveySeptember 15, 2015September 7, 2015Leave a comment

Where does an idea come from? I have no clue, but the mystery of the process is one of my favourite parts. About a week ago, I was pleasantly watching a Seinfeld episode with my kids when BAM! an idea dropped into my head for a new writing project like it had parachuted in from behind enemy lines.

One second, nothing but relaxed laughter at George Costanza, and then, an idea that made my heart pound with excitement. This sense of wonder and surprise is what I love most about living a creative life. And I don’t accept it when people say, “I’m not creative.” That’s 100% bullshit, not to put too fine a point on it.

We can all create, whether it’s with words, paint, wood, instruments, food, paper, fabric or a zillion other things. If you are human, you are creative. It’s simply a question of how willing you are to engage with it.

Lately I’ve been ruminating on the word “claim”. I’m attempting to claim my work as a writer. To feel entitled to own that this is what I do. To once and for all slough off this hideous less-than scrambling for a seat at the artist’s table. I must do what I most want to do in this life. This is true for every one of us.

The world is not likely to beg you to write a book, start a business, bake a loaf of bread, make a fancy card or grow a vegetable garden. People are busy with their own lives, so if you want to create something, the responsibility falls on you to dive in and try it.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s new podcast, Magic Lessons, has helped me in my pursuit to claim my own artistic stake in this life. She encourages us to go for it, no matter what the end result is, because the art of creating is its own reward.

I used to get bogged down in, “What if it’s no good, what if no one likes it, what if it doesn’t turn out the way I want it to?” Five years in on my writing career, I finally know that those questions are useless and debilitating. The answer to every one of them is, “Who the hell cares?”

Now, when I get a fresh idea, I give myself permission to pursue it with no expectation on what it will end up as. It might be genius or it might be shit. I’ll never know unless I invest a bit of time in it, and when the magic starts to happen and it sings and dances for me on the page, I’ll remember that the act of creation is the reward. Even if no one sees the finished product and it’s just for me.

Being invited to create is more than enough. The higher the value I place on my own self-worth, the more I feel entitled to claim the word “writer” as my creative identity. It’s freeing, exciting and knows no limits. For a little while, it gets to be all mine, and that is a worthwhile reward.