Marrying George Clooney

when we first started the kickstarter campaign for Marrying George Clooney, Confessions From A Midlife Crisis (the Play) i wrote a blog, and I shared with everyone my absolute fear of and disdain for asking people, friends, folks for money. oh my god i would have preferred running naked through Shoprite. i can’t even begin to tell you how difficult that was for me. excruciating. i can’t even ask folks who borrowed money from me to give me back the money. i break out in hives and i just wanna hide under the covers.

but it felt like a true blue “face the fear, look in the mouth of the demon, come out of the closet,” moment.
i decided it was time to wear brave, and wear it well. Accessorize and coordinate it with all my other human flaws.

the first day of the campaign was pure magic. something like a thousand dollars was donated. people i didn’t even know threw in 10 dollars, 50 dollars, 1 dollar. it felt so fantastic. and painless. i hardly had to beg.
“oh, my god,” I thought, this is gonna be easy breezy.

Now this is where I absolutely believe that the minute you say out loud, “wow, piece o’ frickin’ cake,” the universe decides to take that arrogance down a couple of notches.

the next few days were pretty dismal in terms of contributions. i wrote a blog, i sent emails, i got down on my hands & knees (which is very painful when you have sciatica), and I prayed and I begged and begged some more. “Please, oh please, oh, please…for god fucking sake, PLEASE….”

I found that begging doesn’t work. It only made me feel more desperate, more unworthy, more shameful. I couldn’t even apply make-up because I couldn’t look myself in the mirror. So, I was pale, and desperate, and i had to raise over 10 grand. And I had a stye. So, I was pale, desperate and had this little red thing on my eyelid which made me look quasi-modo-ish.
i decided to feign the flu, and a fever. maybe if i was sick people would have pity on me and donate.
that did not work.
“oh poor puppy, poor baby, stay home, under the covers, no we can’t donate, have some soup and tea, no we don’t like going on line to donate we don’t want anyone knowing our business oh sweetness have some chicken soup no we only donate big big big money to the arts for underprivileged white children whose parents are imprisoned for ponzi schemes, take some vitamin B and C and K and F and LMNOP.”

okay, so much for those donors & friends. for feigning illness. ken told me i was being punished by the kickstarter gods. as if i didn’t have enough on my plate, now i needed to worry about imaginary gods that collect fees.

10 grand short and the days were ticking away and my asking was filled with huge limitation. personal limitation. fear and doubt and a whole lot of self-confidence waning, and tremendous self-doubt taking up residence.

i prayed some more. well, i didn’t really pray. i looked up to the heavens, and i bartered. I said: Listen if you help me get this money for the play I will take 22 kids bowling and then take them for pizza at Len and Jo’s, and then to Kohl’s.

That didn’t work either, and honestly, i was grateful. 22 kids is a lot of kids and i only have a 5 seater.

So, I wrote another blog, and Laura (Holliman) and I put our heads together and since she is so very gorgeous, i felt rather pretty that day – the day we put our heads together – and we came up with a game plan. Another blog, a few videos, a funny vimeo, and an email blast to all & everyone.

And a few more contributors, donations, backers. A teeny spike.

And then I got wholly discouraged and emailed a friend in the middle of the night and she held my (virtual) hand across the country while i vented, and soothed my battered ego and soul and told me that i must never ever ever give up. ever. and if folks don’t want to contribute or donate that’s okay, focus on the good, the kind. she threw me a virtual kiss and hug and i slept well.

And then folks started donating. Contributing, asking how they can help, and then the kickstarter campaign started showing up on their pages and websites. Day 12, 13, 15…17, 18…19, 20, 23…25, day 30, 31.
and i got good at asking, and Facebooking and posting, and reposting, and my fear about asking for money diminished a teeny bit…

and then i had an epiphany:

this isn’t about money, i thought, this is about a dream. this isn’t about asking folks for money, it’s about asking for support, this isn’t about money, it’s about going all in, going for broke (or abundance as i now like to say!), this isn’t about money, it’s all about faith. in myself. in others. in goodness & kindness & generosity of spirit.

faith.
belief.

i had a dream
a desire.
a goal.
passion.

something i had created that meant the world to me.
and there were 5 other amazing, glorious, brilliant people who joined in on this dream, collaborating – turning it into this play. and the minute i realized that this wasn’t about asking for money, it was all about creating magic, creating and manifesting the impossible, and not taking NO for an answer.

it was all about asking from my heart, my soul and saying:

Hey, I have this incredible dream, and boy oh boy would I love if you could help me, support me, lift me, watch my back, stand by me, beside me, next to me, with me, help me, push me, keep me going, hold my hand, loan me your shoulder, keep the wind on my back …

and that’s when the world literally opened up, the support came in, the friends rose to the occasion in a way that felt so magical, miraculous. stunning. that’s when every and any human being i was ever kind to came to my support. folks i hadn’t seen or heard from in years. strangers on Facebook that were rooting me on, this play on, us on. friends (on Facebook) i had never met, but who’ve been my lifeblood, my greatest champions for 2 years.

Farm animals from Farmville came out of their virtual recluse-ment to help out.

it started out about asking for money, a fear that ran so deep, it ran right down to my achilles heel; and just like all wonderful fairy tales, and magical experiences, and sweet miracles – it was really truly deeply about fulfilling a dream, bringing a beautiful, funny, extraordinary piece of work to fruition.

it was about believing.
the belief and faith and hope that if i could fulfill this dream of bringing this play to life, that i would encourage and inspire every single human being to fulfill theirs; to inspire them to be bold and audacious, to be oh so brave.

It’s was all about kickstarting my life.

And really, how fucking cool is that?

(and yes, yes… we raised all the funds, plus some!!!!!)