In the theatre department where I earned my BA, we were taught a whole array of acting exercises aimed at relaxing and focusing the actor prior to performing. These mostly physical warm-ups often included stretching, relaxing and energizing the body as well as coordinating breath with movement. I was always interested in the calming effect these exercises had on me, and as I was discussing this phenomenon with my professor one day after class, she handed me Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. Although I didn't begin to practice zazen (Zen meditation) until several years after reading Suzuki's book, it inspired me to begin to examine the commotion within myself. I realized that zazen, along with the other physical acting warm-ups, could help an actor start in a state of physical and mental clarity and to build a character on top of that clear foundation.

 

I was also becoming much more interested in writing, and I began to wonder how I could incorporate some of what I was realizing into my writing. It occurred to me: playwrights are always writing about conflicts between different people; with the help of meditation, reading, and discussions with other spiritual seekers, it became apparent to me that the most intense conflicts I regularly experience really originate within myself. Most of my personal suffering comes from my own mental activity -- imagining tragedy, regretting past actions, nostalgia, expectations of professional success, feeling that others haven't treated me with respect, etc -- and the emotional fallout resulting from that activity. It seemed like I couldn't do anything in my life without arguing the opposing point of view in my head. I couldn't enjoy going out with friends because a part of me felt I should save my money. I couldn't eat a french fry without feeling bad about the health effects.  It seemed that every moment of my existence was rife with these silly conflicts.

 

As a writing experiment about two years ago, I began to classify all of those differing voices and urges into several characters. This writing exercise proved to be very helpful in deepening my understanding of the drama in my head, and, little by little, those voices began to lose some of their ability to make me suffer. It became increasingly clear to me how trite and temporary those thoughts are and that they only have power to make me suffer when I submit to them. 

 

Then came the tricky question: if all of the voices I'm hearing in my head are negatively affecting me, what, really, is me? It was about that time that I turned my writing experiment into a serious endeavor in the form of a stage-play that I intended to make happen. I thought that by exploring these questions through a creative writing project I might be able to arrive at some valuable conclusions about who I really am, and what parts of me are damaging, learned traits.

 

The Landlord cast. (The author is 2nd from the left.)

 

I tried out several different arrangements of characters for the play, and I ended up with a cast of four actors and one musician. There's the responsible, duty-driven character; the dreamer that just want to have fun; the cynical intellectual; and a character that represents the essence of the man the play is about, struggling to find some common ground among everyone. He is the inner part of humanity, that which seeks after something higher, something outside of the daily grind. The musician, a violist, is the emotional through-line. The play explores the dynamic among these characters, all of whom are vying for power amongst themselves, and how insubstantial their seemingly important conflicts actually are.

 

In terms of theatrical genre, the final play -- titled The Landlord -- is not what would be called realism, although I'd like to think that it pretty accurately represents the life of mental activity. And though it wasn't my original intention, The Landlord turns out to be pretty funny. The play offers a satiric look into how seriously we take ourselves and our petty problems and grievances. My hope is that the audience will see a bit of themselves in the play and be able to laugh about it.

 

The process of writing, rewriting, and rehearsing The Landlord has been valuable to me as a constant reminder to me to put things into perspective. As I stand at the kitchen sink, grumbling to myself about having to wash my wife's dishes again, I am much quicker to chuckle at myself and remember that I love her than to continue my usual inner rant of injustice. The actors in the play tell me of stories of their own similar experiences. That gives me hope that the play might just have a positive influence on some of the audience members as well.

 

The Landlord poster

 

Working on a creative project provides a means for an artist to deeply explore a certain aspect of life. Without the specific aim of working on a project, I've found it difficult to focus on any one subject for a long period of time. I worked on The Landlord for over two years, which has allowed me to fully engage with its subject matter. It has been said that one cannot fully understand something until one has taught it. Although I'm sure most artists don't consider themselves teachers, I believe artistic expression can serve the same enlightening purpose for the artist as teaching might for the teacher. Art can become an important part of one's spiritual growth.

 

My next artistic exploration will, I think, be about fate and free will, the conflict between going with the flow in life and exerting willpower to try to change things. I'm hoping this one will take less than two years to complete. But, then again, I'm not making a living as an artist. So I might as well enjoy the process.