Mastery doesn’t arrive all at once.
I know – me too – I mean – we all love the fantasy of the “one weekend script.”
You know the legend: someone goes into a cabin, emerges 72 hours later with a perfect screenplay, sells it Monday, wins awards by spring.
Sure, maybe that happened once. Somewhere.
But the script you see onscreen?
The final, edited, color-corrected, scored with heartstring-tugging music – that one?
That came in layers.
Layers of writing.
Layers of complexity.
Layers of awareness.
I taught myself how to juggle three balls. Then, I added the roller bolo — you know, that circus plank-on-cylinder contraption.
Juggling alone: hard.
Bolo alone: harder.
Together: chaos.
But here’s the magic — when I practiced with both and then went back to just juggling?
My juggling was better.
Complexity sharpens simplicity.
The same goes for storytelling, acting, living.
You add a new layer of awareness, a new physical skill, a new level of emotional depth — and suddenly, what used to be difficult becomes smooth. Integrated. Embodied.
Here’s is the take-away:
To build those layers, you have to slow down.
Reactivity — whether in a heated conversation or a missed throw — is fast.
But real growth? That’s slow. That’s breath-filled.
And this is why I do so much breathing.
I am secretly training my nervous system to say, “I got this. You, don’t have to panic.”
As artists, we need to have MORE range than the characters we write or play.
We can’t be caught in their reactivity — we have to witness it, shape it, shepherd it through the narrative.
So don’t rush the layers.
Welcome them.
Trust that the time it takes… is the time it needs.
Both of you are in development. You and Your project. Both need time and attention and articulation of what is next. And when both come together – shall I say – “Brilliance will ensue.”
Joshua
