Burnt Toast. Teri Hatcher

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ (And if you think that just because I’m in this business it means nothing to stand near Clint Eastwood, you’re dead wrong.) It was a real moment for me – not just because I won, but because I’d let myself hope for it.

      And do you know how much that positive attitude had to do with me winning? Absolutely nothing. The votes had already been tallied and the winner’s name placed in an envelope days earlier. But the point is, just shifting my attitude let me enjoy the whole experience more. Even if I hadn’t won, I would have had a better time because I wasn’t undermining my chances at winning in the days and hours before the event. But feeling like a loser can turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you tell your boss that you suck enough times, he might actually start to believe you. (That jerk.) If you think you’re going to fail, and it turns out you’re right, well whoop de do. You’re right. Congratulations. You’ve succeeded in becoming the loser you always thought you’d be. Better to behave like a winner, no matter how things turn out.

      A few months after the awards I went whale watching in Mexico. My girlfriend and I and our daughters were in a small boat in the middle of the ocean when a humpback whale swam right up to us and started romancing us by swimming around and under the boat. At one point he lifted himself straight out of the water, only four feet away. He held there, a third of his body up in the air, then slowly turned toward us. We were all leaning over the edge toward him, reaching out with our hands in hope of petting him. He looked at us – looked like he was seeing our souls and memorizing them. Then he went back under and continued to swim gently around the boat. Our guide asked if anyone wanted to get in the water. This was my one chance to swim with a humpback whale, and before I could chicken out I quickly said, “Okay, I will.” I put on my mask and hopped in the water with him. My mask instantly filled with water. Suddenly, I was in a massive ocean with a forty-five-foot beast, blind as a bat, and most likely surrounded by hungry, man-eating sharks. I had a panic attack. Hyperventilating, I flailed back to the boat and scrambled out of the water as fast as I could. No sooner had I taken the mask off and caught my breath than the whale swam away. I was crushed. For all my recent talk about being in the moment and believing in myself, I’d wimped out.

      Then, lo and behold, the whale came back and swam alongside the boat again. Our guide couldn’t believe I was being offered a second date (and she didn’t even know my lousy track record with dating). But this time I wasn’t as quick to the draw. I was still a little shaken, and I stalled for time. The whale swam away before I even got in the water. As I watched it go I thought to myself, God, Teri, you just blew the chance of a lifetime – twice in a row. The friend I was with didn’t want to get in, so she wasn’t failing herself. But I’d really wanted to be the person who swam with the whale, and I couldn’t do it.

      Then, as if in a fairy tale where wishes happen in threes, the whale came back to give me one last chance to conquer my fear. Our guide was now completely awestruck – this had never happened. I knew that if I didn’t make this work I’d never forgive myself. I put on my mask and jumped in the water.

      And there I was, floating four feet from a thirty-ton whale. I took a breath and held it as I dove down under water to be with the whale and feel the surge of his body swimming past me. I didn’t touch him – I just watched in awe and fascination. It was even more powerful than I’d hoped. I stayed in the water several minutes with the whale until he swam away, for good this time. After I crawled back onto the boat I was so moved that I couldn’t speak for half an hour. When I finally came out of my daze, I said to the guide, “Am I making too much out of this?” But she told me I wasn’t exaggerating how beautiful the moment was. I couldn’t believe the whale gave me as many chances as I needed. And I saw that with a little practice, and a few bonus opportunities, I really could be the person I wanted to be.

      Nothing happens overnight. And you can’t be your ideal self every moment of every day. But if you see something in yourself that isn’t working for you, and it’s keeping you from being as happy as you want to be, you can chip away at it. The results may not be instantaneous, but even changing your intentions is a powerful action. Choosing the positive just feels better.

      If I sound bossy, please keep in mind, I’m saying this as much to remind myself as to tell you.

      

      Twining borty vally did have an effect on me – and it wasn’t buying a convertible. (Actually, I do kind of want a convertible. But that doesn’t help my point so well.) I didn’t change overnight. I mean, I still fear I’m never going to find someone to love who loves me back in spite of and because of all my dark, complicated, insecure places. I tell myself that I’m too old, or that anyone who’s good is already taken, or that he won’t be able to deal with me having a child, or that he’ll have too much baggage from an earlier marriage. I still prepared myself to not get nominated for an Emmy even though I did. And as I sat in the Shrine Auditorium watching people receive their Emmys I still had to battle that voice telling me I didn’t belong.

      Just a few weeks ago, Emerson and I got take-away California Pizza Kitchen (uh, her choice) for lunch. Our dining room table was covered with scripts and business papers, so we decided to eat in what we call “the white living room.” It’s kind of a fancy room, but I don’t want it to be one of those fancy rooms that people never use. So we sat on the fluffy white rug and ate our pizza over the coffee table. After a while, Emerson looked over at a side table that has my Golden Globe on it. She said, “I love looking at your Golden Globe.” And then she said, “Maybe next year you’ll win the Emmy.” She loves that winged statue – I have to admit, it is pretty. It’s so easy for Emerson to hope for my success. This time I took my cue from her. I didn’t say, “No, I’m not going to win.” I took a beat, then said, “Sure, maybe,” and left it there.

      And what about that limo ride that I promised to my friend Ned if I ever made it? Well, now, after all that’s happened with Desperate Housewives, I know for certain that I owe him that swank ride. It’s so long past due, the limo should be upgraded to a Lear jet. We still haven’t done it. I blame it on Ned. He lives across the country now with a wife and two kids and a perfectly decent refrigerator, so it’d be quite a road trip for either of us. But little by little, I convince myself I’d deserve it. Maybe when I’m fifty.

       It’s Your Caviar, You Can Do What You Want with It

      Knowing what you want and not admitting it to yourself can be tough, especially if you’re a chicken like me. But it’s even harder to find your authentic path when you have to contend with the pressures of family, friends, and strangers. People laugh at you, undermine your beliefs, or kindly and sincerely want something completely different for you, and it makes following your own path that much harder.

      We don’t start out so responsive to external forces. When I was a kid, I remember riding my bike home from seventh grade summer school one afternoon. It was a purple banana-seat one-speed that Santa was overdue to replace, and it had one of those little plastic baskets with a flower on it buckled to the handlebars. I hopped off and rolled my bike into our atrium – a sort of indoor/outdoor garden connected to the house. I put down the kickstand and heard my mom yell from the kitchen, “Teri, are you home?” I said, “Yeah…and you’re going to kill me.” She replied, “The only reason I’d kill you is if you brought home a live animal.” So basically I should be long dead by now, because that’s exactly what I had done, and have done many times since. Outside school I’d been suckered into adopting a kitten from a wild litter. It was orange and little and so cute…and, it turned out, the meanest fucking cat ever. I always suspected that I was the reason for my parents’ chronic fighting, but that day there was no doubt. I was definitely the source. Neither of them wanted a cat; that much was clear. But my mom felt compelled to see my side and take pity on my nurturing instincts, so she defended me against my dad. I guess she eventually СКАЧАТЬ