"Dear Jonathan: ...I was going through my files the other day and ran across your name and some paperwork from the [ ] Movie and it got me thinking that my behavior was not okay towards you and I am sorry about the way I acted towards the end of production and after. I worked my ass off to prove myself and let others (who I discovered the hard way are opportunistic in their manipulating and selective in their memory) skew my view of you. This is probably a bit late and I don't want anything from you - I just wanted to say that I am sorry. The bottom line is that I should have come to you instead of listening to others' bullshit. I should have been more loyal to you. I hope there are no more hard feelings anymore between us. I'm sure that you haven't given me a second thought but I wanted to get this off my chest...Take care, "Malia" (Image from http://www.payitforwardinstitute.co.nz/)This note came to me as an email in the middle of the night, about 2 weeks ago. "Malia" is someone with whom I had not spoken in probably 5 years. I had gotten her a gig, her first "real" job in the entertainment business, on a project that I was producing. She begged me to get on the film. I fought for her, I advocated for a position for her when no one yet believed in her and her extraordinary work ethic that was so apparent to me, she clearly was the kind of person would blow down doors to make stuff happen, to what it takes to get the job done. An absolute female warrior, at least one in waiting or training. What "happened," the specifics of it, are not that important. Suffice it to say that, as often can happen, things went awry. Eager beavers often can get seduced, ans lose their way, by so many things - ambition, promises, narcissists, who knows what else - even those with the best intentions, we all have our own poison. Our own Achilles heels. And they can appear, or shift, so suddenly. Malia, as she noted, went astray, surely from her own values, having less to do with the specifics of how that played out with me. And I allowed that riptide, the undertow that it left, not with Malia per se, but the kind of toxic and endemic behavior that can spread within a group, particularly when precipitated from those that are in charge, to pull me away from my center. A center that was still not clear or formed. And it sat there, acidic, on some level, somewhat, but not fully, dissipated.
So it's not just that this was my emotional backdrop against which I got Malia's email...it's that I was also consciously letting go, and resolving for myself, the lessons of this whole kit and kaboodle, these years later. Malia was quite incorrect that I hadn't given her a "second thought." Maybe the second millionth thought. A metaphor for many things, including the story of the story of the story. Which I no longer wanted to carry around (at least for much longer!!). Malia's willingness to come clean - to own her shit, to not just think it and feel it but to address it directly with the person whom she felt she had wronged - was, and is, the best of what we, as humans, can do...to err, and ask for "forgiveness", and even better, for me, to forgive. Happily. To allow the lessons to come full circle. Because the best part of all of this for me is what happened next, what quickly ensued. A reminder that every day, magic can happen.
Within seconds of getting Malia's email, I forwarded it to Gia, a mutual friend from the Film, who had been VERY upset that Malia had participated in some significant under-the-bus-throwing. I hadn't spoken to her in months. I could have simply responded to Malia (which I did, and we have broken bread and healed eye-to-eye), but I wanted Gia to know, first-hand, about Malia, about her essence, where she had traveled to, and how she had come back. Within moments after getting the email, Gia got back to me, and was so moved my what had unfolded, the payoff from one person's willingness to look inside. She kept talking about the lessons, what she said were my principles that were "validated," how it felt so right. And then she started to cry. Gia had unbeknownst to me, left NYC 3 months ago, partially running away from here, looking to create a new life in LA. And that city I know so well, that used to (but no longer) depress me the moment I got off the plane, every time for years, at LAX within a matter of seconds, was eating her alive. Dragging her to her knees, as only LA can do to someone with no job, no posse, no community, no godfathermother, and in the end, no money. The nice weather doesn't seem to matter, when you're sitting in your apartment, alone in the Valley, with no one returning your job-seeking calls. She was days away from driving to Chicago, to move back in with her mother, ready to cry uncle. "Send me your CV and recommendations, I will put it out there. Let's see what happens."
I am known as a linker, a connector, a hookerupper...it is who I am, I love doing it, more so than ever. Maybe it's because more of us need help, need support, and it's become increasingly clear to more than just a few that it's a gift AND a necessity for us to elevate and nurture each other. I'm not sure why, and it doesn't matter. I sent a glowing email about Gia to 12 people, communicating my love for her, my utmost respect for her work. The open spirit of my intentions definitely was fueling my actions. Within (I kid you not) 2 minutes, an email came back from one of the 12 (no one else responded then, or since)...interested in Gia, at least for part time work...I shook my head. She was the one "quasi-celebrity" in the group, a huge author and global thought leader. The one who I had added last to my reach out, a "what the hell" action on my part, because I had assumed she wouldn't be in the employment market. Well, within two days, Gia had the 20 hours a week, and three days after starting, she was hired fulltime, at a salary that exceeded what she had been seeking. And, when she called me, my tears came immediately. Not just because I had, in one moment, transformed the life of a friend, a person about whom I care deeply. It was the interrelationship of lives, the connective tissue between apparently "random" actions that are NOT disconnected, that are NOT random. It was that familiar realization that "just" one action taken, or not, makes a huge difference. The Sliding Door piece. Malia could have emailed me, and I could have simply made my peace with her. Directly. Just the two of us. And if I don't choose to (pay it) forward it to Gia, and reconnect with her, she doesn't get the chance to re-honor Malia...and, she's probably falling further down the hole in LA...and now the wonderful author has a crack assistant, who will fill what had been the gaps in her work life, allowing her to be even more productive and effective, and transform more lives. And, yes, Gia gets to wake up every day with the HUGEST gratitude, not to me, but to the whatever universal flow showed up bigtime. And, I smile, from my toes, pleased as punch that it's working.
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