Lessons from "Good Will Hunting"

Every few years I'll feel this strange compulsion to watch the film, Good Will Hunting. And though I like the movie a great deal I watch it because of the time it reminds me of. The story is about a young man named Will Hunting who has a genius-level IQ and remarkable talents the world is ready for him to share. 

The protagonist, Will Hunting, played by Matt Damon is in his early twenties. And like Will, when I saw this film, I too felt like everything was out in front. The world was ready for me to take it. I was a senior in high school and about to head out for college. The timing of the film's release could not have been more pertinent. 

I recently came across an interview with Matt Damon where he was asked what he was thinking when he won the Oscar for the film. Mind you, he was 27! His answer really surprised me:

I suddenly had this kind of thing wash over me where I thought, Imagine chasing that and not getting it and getting it finally in your 80s or your 90s with all of life behind you and realizing, what an unbelievable waste. It can't fill you up. If that's a hole that you have that won't fill it. I felt so blessed to have that awareness at 27. 

I hope his words bring great solace to those who postpone happiness and believe their well-being should hinge on some arbitrary form of validation represented through some plated copper stick figure. 

Don't get me wrong, awards are wonderful and we should all strive towards great things, but not at the cost of losing perspective of the bigger picture, and losing out on life experiences to do so. 

Fill yourself up with life first and there will then be an understanding that everything else like awards or recognition will have its place, but not be a means to defining one self. 

Your life is about SO much more.

You Can Want Something Without Needing It

Think of the first time you tried asking out that guy or girl you really liked. You may have found yourself stumbling over words, trying too hard to be funny, and more or less making an ass of yourself. Hey, it happens. 

Courting a partner can be a lot like auditioning. A sense of "neediness" can be sensed from a mile away. 

During my time as a casting reader I could tell, which actors led meaningful lives "off-stage." It was clear they wanted the part but would be just fine if it went to someone else. They were so fulfilled personally that their happiness or sense of self-worth didn't hinge on being cast in a show. In other words, their acceptance of themselves wasn't contingent about validation from others. Now that's attractive.

I learned the importance of not driving yourself crazy after an audition, rehashing in your head what you could of, should of, or might have done differently. Instead, the seasoned pros taught me to leave it at the door and go about your day. 

You can want something without needing it.

"The Greatest Tragedy of All is Not the Reality of Failure but the Loss of Hope."

Over the years I've seen way too many talented actor and artist friends equate their self-worth with a resume, or IMDB page. And it absolutely breaks my heart. 

Most of us would agree that if you go into the arts in the first place there is a burning desire to express one self that is often accompanied by an equally powerful need for validation. The trouble is, validation from others is not sustainable. It has to come from within. 

We need to change the metrics of how we gauge self-worth and success. We don't have to overlook the impact we can have at home, in our schools, churches, or communities. That counts too. 

In time, a beautiful thing begins to happen. We start to reframe the way we see everything, including failure. We no longer fear it but accept it as an integral part of a longer and broader journey. We learn to take it in stride and in the process recognize the importance of protecting our spirits. We remain hopeful. 

And that is the starting point for great art.