Here I am on the set, with my 3D glasses in my hair, figuring out one of the last shots of a long day with our Director of Photography, Adrian…

As you can imagine, this whole project has been quite a challenge.  I wrote, produced and directed these webisodes, and so I want more than ever to make sure they are nothing short of outstanding.  Now, at the end of the post production process, there are a number of people working very hard to finish all the 3D compositing, the score, the sound mix, the color correction, and then to marry all these elements together into one fabulous final product.

The problem I am having today is in the realization that I must let go and accept that I cannot control everything!  And in my work life, that has always been a challenge because I am a perfectionist and an occasional control freak.  Right now, other than giving copious notes and granting my approval to the various elements coming my way, my part is essentially done.  I have to rely on the talent, ingenuity, and dedication of others as I watch from a careful distance.

My mantra today:  It always gets done.  It always comes together the way it’s supposed to.  It always get done…

But I wanted to write about something I saw this week that really struck me. I DVR’d Oprah’s interview with Whitney Houston, which aired Monday and Tuesday… in case you live on Mars and didn’t happen to see the ads.

At first, I have to admit, I tuned in, as my friend Amy used to say, for the same reason people slow down on the freeway to look at a car crash. It was more of a morbid fascination than a genuine interest in what had kept Whitney away for seven years. And from the tone of the ads, you would have thought Oprah was boarding the space shuttle to fly to the moon to interview Whitney. Thus, my curiosity was piqued.

The first day, I was sort of stunned by Whitney’s candor. I mean, she really went for it, leaving very little to the imagination. She described the train wreck that her life became in vivid detail. And whenever anything was unclear, Oprah translated and filled in the gaps. It was incredibly uncomfortable for me to watch someone I had grown to know and love as one of the most poised, graceful and dignified entertainers of all time truly bare her soul with no holds barred on national television.

It was not until the second interview that I could actually appreciate what she was saying. It was then that I began to see the icon we call WHITNEY HOUSTON as a human being. Not the slick media creation of the 80’s and 90’s. Not the cartoon caricature we witnessed on Being Bobby Brown. Just a very real human being who was doing the best she could to pull her life together after coming to terms with addiction and an abusive marriage.

I realized that it is very easy for us as human beings to stand in judgment of others – especially someone as seemingly inaccessible as Whitney Houston. “How could she destroy herself like that?” we asked. “If I could sing like that and had that much money and fame, I would never let that happen to me. Her life was so perfect, and she just threw it all away,” we told ourselves.

And yet, Whitney described a very different reality. A reality in which her life was never her own, and the pressures of being WHITNEY HOUSTON became nearly unbearable. A reality in which the more success she achieved, the more intimated, afraid, and unworthy she felt. A reality in which her husband’s insecurity and envy drove her to sacrifice herself for his security. And ultimately a world in which she felt very much alone and isolated, no longer sure of who she was and therefore no longer able to express herself.

Watching Whitney talk about her life, I was surprised to find that I truly identified with her on a human level. I finally saw that each of us, no matter who we are, must achieve a state of balance in our own lives, no matter what our circumstances. If we are not prepared for what life throws our way – even if it is extraordinary, mind-boggling success – than we are in for a bumpy ride. For so many us, drugs and alcohol became a way of dealing with a life that was out of balance. For others, shopping, gambling, or even work can serve as unhealthy counterweights to the crazy seesaws we ride everyday.

We all need friends in whom we can confide. We all need to find some form of spirituality that brings us a sense of peace as well as nourishes our soul. We all need to find ways to love ourselves a little more everyday. And we all need to develop a sense of individual purpose along with a sense that we are of service in the world. These, in my experience, are the basics of achieving balance in one’s life. Without these basics, we are forced to find destructive alternatives to numb ourselves. But when we live our lives holding these tenets sacred, the road before us remains full of hope and promise.

One of my favorites:

But after he and I sorted out the issue at hand, we began talking about a series of situations we’d both encountered – as well as situations our friends have encountered – where we had truly overreacted to what turned out to be a very simple reality. Why did we do the things that we did? What motivated our actions? Why did we need to recruit a supporting cast for what ultimately was a very insignificant and uninspired drama?

It reminded me of a tennis lesson I had taken when I was 12. The instructor would hit the ball to wherever I wasn’t on the court. If I was on the left side, he’d hit it to the right. If I was at the back of the court, he’d hit a drop shot that landed at the front. And every time he’d hit me a ball, I would react in a dramatic and frenzied manner.

I would sprint at full throttle to wherever the ball landed, come to a screeching halt while over-crowding the ball, flail ridiculously to get my racquet back, and either return the ball directly to him or hit it into the net. Then, we’d repeat the same pattern over and over again. Always off-balance, I could never quite get myself back to my center court ready position.

Finally, he stopped playing and asked, “What’s really going on here?”

I had to think a moment. “We’re playing tennis,” I said, confused.

“No. I am playing tennis. I don’t know what you’re doing,” he fired back. “The game of tennis is very simple. I hit a ball over the net. It bounces on your side. You hit it back to my side, ideally where I am not standing. That’s the game of tennis.”

“Yeah. I get that,” I retorted, indignantly.

“No, you don’t. What you’re not getting is that all you have to do is put your racquet back, calmly move to the ball, and hit that single ball back over the net. There is nothing else going on there on your side of the court. The way you’re reacting, you’d think there was an army chasing you, trying to stop you at all costs from returning not just one ball, but a hundred of them. And then, after all the unnecessary gyrations you go through, you make my life easier by hitting the ball right to me.”

I had to stop for a moment and think about how I had been approaching what I believed to be a very complicated and intricate game. My flailing and sprinting about was really doing nothing other than making me look and feel like a crazy, flailing person. Once I had allowed the perspective of a very wise tennis instructor to sink in, the noise in my head began to quiet.

And so now, when I can remember that tennis lesson in the midst of what I believe to be a very complicated and involved situation, I ask myself, “What’s really going on here?” Nine times out of ten, I realize that I am about to act like a crazy, flailing person in the midst of a very simple reality.

I remember that the best thing I can do is calmly move to the single ball on my side of the court and hit it back over the net the best way I know how… and then wait for the next shot.

Now, I have always thought that in order for a one’s beloved pooch to qualify as a service dog, the service dog in question would have to be of a certain breed with documentation of specific training and skills. And its owner would have to have a documented physical need for the dog.

Well, we can all breathe a sigh of relief because that just isn’t quite so. At least not any longer.

With a note from your licensed therapist, doctor, or psychaitrist attesting to your mental and emotional need for a canine companion, you too can bring your dog on board a plane, snag yourself a bulkhead seat, and ride in therapy dog style all the way to your destination. I believe there are breed exceptions, like no pit bulls, but for the most part, you and your therapy dog can enjoy your own special bonding time at 35,000 feet.

Love.