You know, I suck so much more than I’ve thought that I should at forty-six. I hate not knowing what I should be doing. I don’t mind not being where I’m going, but I hate not knowing where I should be going.
Career is never as important as family. The better you are at your job, the more you’re rewarded, financially and spiritually, by doing it. You know how to solve problems for which you receive praise and money. Home life is more chaotic. Solving problems is less prescriptive and no one’s applauding or throwing money if you do it right. That’s why so many young professionals spend more time at work with the excuse, “I’m sacrificing for my family.” Bullshit. Learn to embrace the chaos of family life and enjoy the small victories.
An anecdote from his work on A Perfect World:
Costner was a big star who had agreed to make an art film while Eastwood was determined to make a Clint Movie, and they were at cross-purposes. Finally, Eastwood called Costner from his trailer for a scene, and Costner told him to wait — that he wasn’t ready.
“Find his extra,” Eastwood said, “and put a shirt on him.”
He wound up shooting the scene with the extra — with the extra walking through a field, and the camera so close to him he became a blur. Then Costner emerged from his trailer and announced that he was ready to work. “Never mind,” Eastwood said, “we’re moving on.”
“Ava didn’t want Frank’s men hanging around all the time,” another friend said, “and this got him mad. With Nancy he used to be able to bring the whole band home with him, and Nancy, the good Italian wife, would never complain – she’d just make everybody a plate of spaghetti.”
“When I am writing my problems become invisible and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be.”
I volunteered to serve food to the workers at Ground Zero after 9/11. There were dogs trained to find living people. The people who worked with the dogs became worried because the day after day of not finding anyone was beginning to depress the animals. So the people took turns hiding in the rubble so that every now and then a dog could find one of them to be able to carry on.