HOPELESS IS THE NEW FABULOUS!

I'm an independent producer who most recently completed overseeing three seasons of an animated series on HBO. And I am going to tell you a secret: I'm unemployed. Sure, I could just stick to the “independent producer” story, and share my list of packaged projects and what makes me so fantastic, and that would suffice and prove perfectly legitimate. But I'm more of a realist than a dreamer, and unless you're in production on a series or film, if you're an independent producer, you're unemployed.

I could also just tell you the truth, but with a good old fashioned Hollywood spin: HOPELESS IS THE NEW FABULOUS!

You heard it here first. Jealous? I hope so.

The last time I was unemployed was likely around 1995. Generally I'm more “exec” than maverick; I require an infrastructure, health insurance, and ideally a 401K in order to feel like a real live grown up. But in 2008, in the midst of the recession, I found myself laid off from a company I had joined just about a year prior, even after setting up a series for them on HBO. My salary was moved onto the budget of the show, and I became an independent producer. By default.

So, I made the most of it. I incorporated, started pitching projects, hired attorneys, and in 2010 bought a condo. I had been saving to buy, well, my whole life, but once hitting the dreaded “freelance” category I was worried about depleting my savings. My realtor (Laura Stupsker at THE AGENCY - 5 star rec!) made the argument: “Buy now! Prices and rates are down, and getting a loan could only prove more complicated in the future given your freelance status.” That was the impetus I needed to push me into making the decision. I acted in faith, not fear, which had been my usual M.O. The work will come!

And so, come 2012, the show I oversaw for three seasons came to an end. I had been planting seeds for months, pushing projects forward and seeking out new opportunities for more permanent employment. And I had a verbal commitment from a top digital network on one of my projects, for series. I had done my due diligence and would not get caught with my proverbial freelance pants down.

But, I got caught with my pants down.

If I knew then what I know now, I probably wouldn't have purchased that series of acupuncture facials, or taken that trip to Bali prior to my show ending. And while money is always an issue, my ship's looming arrival to NO MAN'S LAND was equally as terrifying. But Bali was my plan to gain clarity and perspective, and a much deserved break. Things would be okay.

I returned from Bali in January a complete and nervous wreck. Two months left on the show, lots of irons in the fire, but absolutely no concrete agenda for the next thing. Uncertainty for me is not just a period of discomfort, it's a DEATH KNELL. Like, the equivalent of terror the characters in the SAW movies experience, just not as dramatically vocalized. Money in the bank and a job around which I can define myself are primal needs for me that could supersede all of Maslow's physiological subset.

Now, place this somewhat relatable predicament within the realm of the entertainment industry. An industry so structured on image that to have none in play (i.e. no job) is tantamount to extinction.

Come March, I was unemployed. And my mental state spiraled ever so downward.

Every day I told myself with clarity and objectivity “people get laid off all the time, you are not special and neither are your circumstances. You have to deal with this just like everybody else.” And while there was forward momentum with my projects, none were poised to go into production anytime soon. And more obstacles showed up. Like dealing with a pending lawsuit from a former friend who had been my tenant. As one friend said to me “you're beating the odds. Just in the wrong direction.”

I honestly felt so profoundly lost, so scared, and so alone that I froze in fear, unable to function.

But, just in case you are reading this and I have a project with you, please know that I remain entirely competent and professional! Besides, if you work in this business, it's almost a given that you're inherently unstable in one way or another. So, don't judge.

I am not a survivor, I am a struggler. I am still struggling. But after months of kicking and screaming, I found some strange and diverse tactics to keep me grounded in the most uncertain of situations. Actually, grounded is likely too strong and positive of a word, I would say the tactics have kept me successfully distracted. I look forward to being grounded at some point in my life.

One of those tactics is Kundalini Yoga. Now I'm a big dabbler in spiritual modalities, and while I am entirely susceptible to the newest and greatest panacea, I am almost irrevocably disappointed by a lack of results. And I am a terrible liar. I always feel like Diana Morales from A CHORUS LINE, the actress whose experience with drama improvisation proves disillusioning, as sung in NOTHING (“They all felt something, but I felt nothing, except the feeling that this bullshit was absurd!”). So I do not recall what drew me to attend, but I was desperate for something to do with my morning other than follow up on email inquiries, project statuses and other potential avenues to rejection. I was also developing a project with a famous singer who swore by it, and I am hardly immune to a celebrity endorsement! So I attended a 9am weekday class, because guess what? That's what you get to do when you're unemployed. And it's imperative that you take advantage of the perks when you can.

The class was absolutely packed. So this is where all the actors/writers/unemployed artists spent their mornings, if not at Intelligensia on Sunset or surfing in Malibu! It was a fascinating and diverse group, and included an incredibly handsome/famous/hilarious/charismatic entertainer. Instant celeb endorsement credibility for me! Or at the very least, entertainment value.

It's not easy to explain what goes on in class, because it looks odd and feels odd and actually is odd. We breathe and move parts of our bodies with precise repetition, seeking to unlock hidden stagnancy, repair and strengthen organs, and balance the brain. We chant, and at the end of class, sing a hippy-dippy kind of song. Our teacher, Tej, infuses us with emphatic positive messaging, but she is my type of teacher, substantial and grounded, funny, and focused. She even urges us to get angry! Get out the fear! Kind of like an Olympics gymnastics coach, but with a much more enlightened endgame. And the best thing about the class? Tej assumes that everyone is seriously working through things, and we all get to work through it together. So instead of feeling like an outcast because your life is falling apart, you feel wonderfully accepted by a large group of people who are facing their own reality, their lack, their fear, and maybe their growth.

What happened to me in those early classes was somewhat unprecedented. As I moved through the exercises, I began to cry. These were not tears of joy, but rather a dramatic release of pent up pain, hot and heavy rolling down my face. Ugly crying. Almost-needing-to-leave-the-room crying. Blowing-my-nose-repeatedly crying. But by the time class was over, I felt fantastic. When you have to face uncertainty on a daily basis, there is nothing better than clearing the deck so you can really get to work.

One day after class, I finally introduced myself to Tej to let her know how much the classes were helping me. And once again, I burst into tears. Tej has of course seen it before and been there before. But she looked at me as I tried to compose myself, and said “I know how you feel and know where you are. When I got divorced I couldn't get out of bed for days.” And then she looked me in the eye, her gaze nothing short of imperative and said, “BUT YOU HAVE TO GET IT TOGETHER”. And I stopped crying. It was not an admonishment, but an instruction, akin to a healthy slap across the face. The first thing that got the crying, whining kid in me to finally behave and take some responsibility.

But don't think this class offers an escape from the likes of the business. Like any good producer, Tej knows her audience. She often shares stories of people in need of support, and while some of them are suffering from illnesses, others are pitching projects. Or suffering creative blocks. Or going to auditions. It's a room full of artists at all different levels, and there is comfort in that and great possibility. And inspiration. Here, the posturing is authentic, and positive.

Since writing this article a few months ago, I have been working what I call my “band-aid” job, for which I am very grateful. Obviously there are fewer opportunities for yoga with Tej, but I picked up some weekend classes and introduced a few friends to the experience (including the HJ founder herself, Jill Cutler!).

And then last week I went into a full-blown panic. I was unexpectedly laid off for two weeks. I felt, as usual, unprepared to deal with the lack of funds and structure to my day. So the first item on my work-less week agenda was to attend Tej's class.

As it turns out, around the same time, I received some emails about Tej's classes unexpectedly moving to a different location. She is relocating and regrouping, with the help of earlier mentioned (and lovely) handsome/charming/hilarious entertainer, and several others in the community. Funnily enough, the classes are currently being held on a studio lot. I attended Wednesday morning, and surprisingly, no security guards asked anyone holding a yoga mat for a walk-on.

Once again, Tej shared just what I needed to hear. “I am getting you strong. We have to be strong, right? Because as you can see, things can change in an instant. And we have to be prepared.”

It's a unique situation when the person you rely on for stability is facing change – but doesn't that make the guidance all the more meaningful? As much as our hardships can prove painful and undesirable, with community and context they might just serve a purpose.

It also reminded me of what my friend Adam Newman said about the business, just the day before, “That's what I love about L.A. There is always hope for success here.”

In other words, things can change in an instant! And while you might just go from hopeless to fabulous, always be prepared for the pendulum to swing back the other way.

This article was originally published in HOLLYWOOD JOURNAL