A Hand on Your Shoulder: Community and the Creative Journey

One of the things I often say in classes is that the elephant in the room—the unspoken truth—is that we are all preparing for something that might never happen, yet we must be dressed for the prom, waiting for the prince to knock on our door or ring the bell. You can’t be found sitting in your housecoat with curlers in your hair or lounging in gym shorts and a torn T-shirt eating ice cream or drinking a beer in front of the TV. You have to be dressed for the ball or ready for the game. You have to be ready. Because if opportunity knocks on your door or rings your bell—if it happens—you must be prepared, even for something that might not happen.

The existentialists couldn’t have come up with a better metaphor than that. It’s the truth, and everybody knows it. It’s just not something we talk about. Instead, we say things like, “Keep working hard,” or “Be ready.” But we don’t say, “Be ready for the thing that might never happen.” And yet, we need to find a way to say it to ourselves and one another without losing heart—because it’s not about the form your creative soul takes; it’s about your creative identity needing to express itself.

Your goal isn’t to limit yourself to being an actor. It’s not, “I’m an actor, and if it’s not working out, then I’m nothing.” No, that’s not the form your creativity is necessarily destined to take. If you’re not attached to the role or function of your artistic identity but instead connected to the creative force within you, then something more important and fulfilling will happen.

Creativity as a Process

Creativity is not an outcome but a process, according to neuroscience. When we engage in creative activities, parts of the brain responsible for problem-solving, emotional resilience, and adaptability are activated. Creativity rewires the brain to handle uncertainty, which allows us to find joy in the act of creating, rather than focusing solely on the end result. Like seeds scattering from a dandelion puffball, our creative endeavors are sent into the world without any guarantee of success. Some seeds of creativity may land on cement or walls where nothing can grow, while others might find fertile ground. Yet a flower can grow through the crack in the wall and a seed can die in fertile soil. This is the quirky nature of creativity—there are no guarantees. And yet, the creative force within us compels us to keep trying.

The Role of Failure

This is where we confront failure and entitlement. As Yoda might say, “The Force  is strong in that one,” but in some, entitlement is even stronger and binds them and blinds them. It’s the dark side—the belief that we are owed results simply because we worked hard. But the truth is, failure is an essential part of growth. Thomas Edison once said, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Each failure refines our vision, sharpens our instincts, and strengthens our resilience. The creative thing within us will continue to grow, no matter what setbacks we face if you’re willing to detach yourself from your stubborn ego and embrace change.

I’ve had to remind myself of this. Looking at my life from a linear, quantitative perspective, I’ve failed at many things. I’ve failed to become a doctor, a writer, a Film or TV director, or head up a Drama department at a university or run a regional theatre. I didn’t capitalize on directing Keanu Reeves in  Hamlet. I didn’t leverage my time in Los Angeles or the fact that I directed a film for Roger Corman that went nowhere. When I lay it all out, I can look like a total failure. And I’ve had moments when I’ve looked at my life that way. But when I shift my perspective, I realize this: my creative force continues to express itself. Nothing has changed except the form it took. My creative soul is intact only the form it took has changed. And I think that can be true for all of us.

Creativity Adapts to Changing Forms

Our creative identity is fluid. The painter might become a photographer; the actor might find fulfillment as a director writer or even a carpenter. The creative force doesn’t diminish—it simply finds new forms of expression, reflecting the times we live in and the experiences we accumulate. As the world evolves, so too must our creativity. This adaptability allows us to thrive in unexpected ways, whether through new mediums, technology, or unconventional roles.

Community as the Backbone of Creativity

The challenge, then, is to sustain ourselves during darker times, during existential crises. To do that, we need a community of people who can remind us, “You’re okay. You’re all right by me. I see you.” Community isn’t loud or performative. It’s quiet. It’s a hand on your shoulder, a shared sigh, and the encouragement to get up and keep going.

We live in a culture obsessed with status and fame, and we lose sight of the path that leads to those places—community. When people achieve something, they don’t stand on stage and thank Facebook or Instagram for giving them success. They thank their family, their friends, their loved ones—the people who were there when times were lean.

And yet, there’s a darker side to this too. We’ve all known people who remain so attached to their egos that they refuse to acknowledge those who helped them succeed. They want the credit for doing it all themselves. That’s a loud, shallow world. But true community is quiet. It’s not a party; it’s private, subtle, and profound. It’s the strength to endure setbacks and the wisdom to detach from the forms of success we might have been chasing and perhaps even be willing to ask for help.

A Cultural Critique

In a culture obsessed with metrics—likes, followers, box office revenue—we’ve reduced success to numbers. But creativity resists quantification. It’s worth lies in its capacity to connect, heal, and inspire—not in its ability to trend. This obsession with outcomes fuels entitlement and robs us of the joy of creating for its own sake and the desire to help one another.

A Message of Resilience

Ultimately, this is the message: your ego’s attachment to a specific form is not you. It’s just something you’re holding onto. Your creative force is what matters. It’s not about being a writer, actor, director, or dancer—it’s about being a creative, living human being who has something to give and share. And in a world that’s changing so rapidly, where we might not even recognize our country a year from now, this force becomes even more vital.

At LB Acting Studio, we make no promises. We offer no guarantees. But we can offer a place to work hard, train hard, and be part of a community of like-minded people who will say, “Get up. You can do this.” Because creativity isn’t about the results. It’s about the process. It’s about staying connected to that quiet, persistent force that keeps growing, no matter what. It’s about looking back over your shoulder and hearing someone say, “You got this”!