The Lost Spirit Within The Artist

The artist is a sacred being.

Allow me to share with you a story of an encounter with a great artist who I’ve worked with for years.

It took me a while to coax it from him. (This is not unusual, as the mind often hesitates and freezes in the first few meetings).

But when I asked him why it is that he wasn’t getting the movie roles that he felt he should be getting, he said he wasn’t surprised.

I’ll now take you behind the curtain and let you in on a private consultation that transpired:

He said, “Kapil, when I was younger, I could do whatever the role required me to do. Auditioning was a snap. I could laugh or cry at the snap of a finger.”

“And now?” I asked.

“When I leave the audition, I almost know I’m not going to get the part.”

“I think you know much sooner than that.”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I think you know you’re not going to get the part before you even go to the audition.”

“You know what? You’re probably right. So what I do?”

“When has it ever been about a ‘doing’? It’s not about doing anything, brother.”

“Then what is it about, Kapil?”

“It’s about regaining what you’ve lost.”

“I’ve lost the ability to perform. I’ve lost the ability to move the millions who watch me and follow me.”

“Not at all.”

“Then, I don’t get it. What have I lost?”

“There’s something you need to understand. Your mind tells you that when you perform your very best, it is You who is doing the performing.”

“Whoa. Back up. You lost me.”

“Your mind and your intellect tells you that when you are at your very best, it is You who is doing the performing.”

“If it’s not me whose doing the performing, then who exactly is performing?”

“The being within you who used to do the performing has been lost.”

“The being within me?”

“Yes sir. At one time, there had to exist within you—

“Holy shit!”

He stood up began pacing the room with his hand across his forehead. He looked off into space and sat quiet for at least two to three minutes.

He then turned to me and said, “I’m embarrassed to tell you. But holy shit, something you just said just opened up something that’s been repressed in me for years.”

“I’d love to hear it, but if you’re too embarrassed to tell me, I don’t want to force you, brother.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” he said.

He leaned back into the leather sofa and gazed at a random area of the hardwood floor.

Without making eye contact, he said, “Amy D.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“When I was a kid, I used to have what I would now call a muse. At the time, I called her an inner voice. Her name was Amy D. I used to rely on her. She came with me to every important event, every touchy moment, every audition.”

“What does the D stand for?”

He laughed and said, “I have no freaking idea. That’s just the name I gave to her. And, God, I haven’t felt her presence in years.”

“Then I have the perfect solution, brother.”

“Yes, I need to get her back, don’t I?”

“If you look for her, you probably won’t find her.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because the greatest things in life are not grabbed by the throat. They are attracted by the spirit.”

“You’re a goddamn poet, I swear. I’m all ears, Kapil.”

“I want you to look at me in my eyes and hear every syllable of what I’m about to tell you. Okay, brother?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’m in.”

“Whenever you go for an audition, I want you to forget all about yourself. I want you to abandon yourself. Abandon your ego. Leave your entire identity behind.”

“Then what’s my motivation for going? I’m not arguing with you, Kapil. I always do whatever you tell me, you know that. But I’m not sure what my motivation will be?”

“Your motivation is Amy D.”

He got up and walked away for a moment. And he began to cry quietly in the corner of the room.

I remained silent and still.

When he returned, he said, “But Amy D isn’t here any more, Kapil.”

“Amy D has always been here, brother. You’ve just been looking the other way. You’ve ignored her for years. Give your every triumph to her. Don’t do it as a sacrifice against yourself. Do it as a genuine, sincere, and all consuming gift for her. And as you do, you will begin to feel her presence again.”

He smiled and said, “Damn it, Kapil. Can we ever go through a session without you making me cry? But I’m so grateful to have met you.”

“All human beings come into our lives for a reason, brother. If we listen to the universe and its unerring wisdom, then we reach out and hold on to those it brings our way, no matter what our mind tells us to do. Tears flow when human beings rediscover a part of themselves. And when you and I first met, I told you that we are on a journey back to the self you left long ago.”

“I remember. But tell me something, Kapil. Who exactly is Amy D?”

“Brother . . . Amy D is the Lost Spirit Within the Artist.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Always remember, my friend. You will create reasonably good work if you do things for yourself. But if you do things for Amy D, you will become Rembrandt incarnate. Everything you touch will become a masterpiece for the world to behold.”

Related Discourses:

When You Disappear, Your Masterpiece Appears (Tiny Buddha: http://bit.ly/youandyourmasterpiece )

Creativity Is The Smoke That Rises ( Common Ground Magazine: http://bit.ly/1JDDuV9 )

For Eric (Roberts), Lila, Eliza, and Barbra (Streisand): The Actors Holy Grail: http://bit.ly/25BZnNO 

Nervousness: The Truth You’ve Never Been Told: http://bit.ly/1UwUpga