Things we can let go of: anticipating the future

W.C. Fields said, “Never work with animals or children.” Why? On stage, people can become wooden, practiced, trite in their delivery. While animals and children remain riveting because we never know what they’ll do; they are wildly unpredictable and therefore fascinating. In the theater, we hear actors say, “I was anticipating, sorry.” Meaning, we were not in the moment, but were anticipating an entrance, a certain way of delivering a line, a light cue. We look towards the wings a second before a character is due to enter, transmitting to the audience what is about to happen. We stop and wait for a line to be delivered rather than barreling on as we would do in daily conversation. And in the split second that we are expecting an occurrence, we let our behavior be determined by something unimaginable and uncontrollable—the future. Actors strive to say the same lines with the same movements night after night, take after take, while cultivating a sense of the unexpected: a sense that anything could happen and this moment has never happened before. Great actors invite the unexpected, revel in it. And watching this dangerous dance is thrilling. These performers welcome animals and children on the stage.

In life, we still anticipate the behavior or actions of others. We project and assume. And when we do that, we miss what’s actually happening. We can let that go. It dulls the interaction, takes us out of the moment, disconnects us from each other, and is frankly, exhausting.

This week, notice when we are anticipating, assuming, projecting how others will behave, and come to the interaction with fresh eyes. See what happens.