Honor the Sabbath ... aka How to Avoid Losing Your Mind

Some Crazy I found wandering around the facility.

So I crewed on a feature film this summer.  We shot inside an abandoned insane asylum, one from the eighteenth century that was filled with bats and dark tunnels and crumbling wallpaper.  It was a horror film (obviously) – and also a horror production.  Definitely one of the most stressful jobs I’ve ever worked.  Lack of preparation meant we were constantly tripping over ourselves in a desperate attempts to keep things organized.  But it’s tricky business, tying your shoe laces while running the 400 Meter Dash.  Basically, the film just needed two more months in the Preproduction Oven.  

Now I actually enjoy stressful situations.  Trying to manage them is like surfing; you learn to ride on the cusp of mayhem.  So for the first few days, I threw myself into the mess, not caring how insane it was.  And I got pretty wet, inhaled large quantities of ocean.  It was one of those fighting-just-to-stay-afloat scenarios.  I kept telling people, “I’m sorry things aren’t up to code, they will be soon.  It’s just going to take some time to find our rhythm.”  Because it always takes a little time to hit your stride, even when things are organized.  So I had hope. 

Second week, things didn’t improve much.  And I’m not sure why they didn’t.  It might have something to do with the long hours.  We were working twelve (or fourteen)-hour days, six days a week.  If this were Oregon Trail, our wagon pace was “Strenuous.”  And as we all learned from Oregon Trail, you can’t maintain the “Strenuous” pace very long before your oxen start dying.  But regardless of the reasons, the fact was things were still disorganized and people were still stressed out of their minds.  And I began to worry that we weren’t going to hit our stride.

Ok, so here’s where the Sabbath part comes in.  From the moment I was hired, I knew I was going to have to be really careful with my day off.  Because we were going to working six days, which meant there’d be no time for prep/catch up … except on that seventh day.  So upon arrival, I gallantly declared to my coworkers that I refused to work on my day off.  Because I don’t believe man was made to run 24/7.  The Sabbath is part of the original work rhythms established by God at the beginning of creation.  It’s also one of the Ten Commandments, right up there with Thou Shalt Not Lie, Steal, or Commit Adultery.  It was a matter of spiritual obedience.  But I didn’t say all that.  I just said I was going to need my day off.  Which was absolutely true.

As previously outlined, the shoot went down like a runaway train.  I could barely keep up with the pace, and since my job consisted of laying the tracks in front of said runaway train, I felt the strain of disorganization quite acutely.  It reminded me of college finals week:  the break-neck pace and the overwhelming workload, the insane stress levels, the exhaustion-induced depressed immune system.  All this translated to an increased need for rest … and the simultaneous increased need for preparation/catch up. 

But the first Saturday (our day off) I held my ground.  I slept late, relaxed, re-centered my soul, listened to a sermon podcast, hung out with friends, saw a movie.   And I only did a couple hours of work in the evening before bed.  Which stunk.  Those two hours somehow managed to erase all the peace I’d recouped earlier that day.   

The second Saturday did not fare so well.  I woke up with a worry pit in my stomach (which had nothing to do with the loaded Shirley Temple from the night before).  So instead of sleeping in, I decided to get up and get some work done right away, so I could relax the rest of the day.  I got to the Production Office around 10 am.  I didn’t leave the Production Office until 10 pm.  It was horrible.  I did accomplish some much-needed reorganization and communication.  But the work just never ended.  And it was cursed work too; everything I accomplished got ripped to shreds before the end of the night.   BLEH!!!

Funny story:  By 8 pm, the First Assistant Director (whom I’d coerced into helping me all day) was ready to be done.  We’d just spent the entire day working; all our ducks were in a row, their backs against a brick wall, ready to be executed by firing squad the next morning.  My compatriot threw down his papers and said, “We are done!  I’m leaving for dinner in 5 minutes.”  Being a girl, I said, “Dude, I haven’t even put on makeup yet today.  At least give me 7 minutes to pull myself together.”  Fool.  In those two extra minutes, two major schedule meltdowns occurred and we didn’t escape the office for another two hours.  And when we finally did leave to get food, we waited for ten-plus minutes in the Arby’s Drive-Thru (yes, I know that’s a whiny #firstworldproblem, but seriously think about how long ten minutes feels at 10 pm).  Also there was a ghetto car behind us in the line, blasting low-frequency bass music which translated to a dull mind-numbing roar in our ears.  It was laughable how terrible the day was.  Or cryable, depending on your proximity to a pillow.

That next day, our “Monday,” I remember being exhausted.  So incredibly exhausted.  And for the rest of that third week, I couldn’t make headway on anything.  I mean, sure I kept busy and threw a lot of energy into things.  But none of my efforts were productive.  Which freaked me out – I knew I wasn’t pulling my weight, which meant I was letting the production down and adding to my teammates’ burdens.  But I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong.  I sort of lost consciousness during this time – whenever someone asked me what I’d done all day I couldn’t tell them. 

Then I began grooming an assistant to help me with scheduling.  Having someone following me around made me realize how much time I spent trouble-shooting daily issues instead of working ahead on the next day’s schedule.  I was jumping up every two minutes to answer the walkie talkie or my cell phone.  And due to this constant reacting (plus the lack of sleep), I had developed a mental condition in which I couldn’t focus on anything for more than three seconds, which I call “Goldfish Memory.”  Obviously, this was counter-productive on every level.   And I began to see the error of my ways. 

Because I hadn’t taken a day off, I had seriously reduced my productivity.  My energy levels were low (though not too low), but my mental agility was ridiculously low.  I simply couldn’t cope with issues in a creative or aggressive manner.  Furthermore, I was spiritually drained.  I didn’t even have the energy to invest in prayer or Bible-reading.  Basically I was subsisting on politeness and random prayers of desperation.  And I could feel my soul becoming more fragile and selfish. 

Needless to say I took my third Saturday very seriously – I saw a movie, hung out, did laundry, went for a walk along the river and listened to a sermon or two, called my family.  It was so beautiful.  Like Jesus said, the Sabbath was made for man.  One day a week is fundamentally necessary to refresh/reset one’s body, mind, and soul.  Otherwise you get consumed by your work.  And then your work consumes you and you become a shriveled skeleton running on coffee.

When I came home, the first sermon I heard was about honoring the Sabbath.  Had to smirk – I see what you did there, God.  The pastor was talking about our need for rest, and how many people are chronically sleep-deprived and over-stressed – without even realizing it!  He asked the congregation to consider the spiritual and worshipful nature of rest and play.  Furthermore, he drew out the implications of resting in the midst of work.  Taking a break from one’s job – especially when the job seems to need more attention – is a demonstration of one’s priorities.  Not working on the Sabbath says ‘my God is more important than my job.’  Not to oversimplify it, as if God were not involved in my work or the two are antithetical, but the Sabbath is a long-established sacred life rhythm in which man is called to rest in God’s provision and cease his labor.  So disregarding the Sabbath is disrespecting and disobeying God.  Dang; conviction in my heart. 

It’s funny, thinking back to the first day of production, when I fully intended to honor the Sabbath.  What changed?  Nothing, except that the more I got involved the more I felt “responsible” for the production.   I worked through my days off because I felt it was my duty as Second Assistant Director.  But that was a lie.  God certainly calls us to be responsible; He does not call us to kill ourselves for our jobs.  It wasn’t just responsibility that prompted my overtime labor.  It was a desire to perform well and please others.  That is what prompted me to throw out my well-reasoned commitments. 

Not to say that there is never a time to “work” on the Sabbath.  Like Jesus said, the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.  And Jesus himself demonstrated these exceptions, like when he supernaturally healed people on the Sabbath.  But somehow I don’t think helping a low-budget horror film get organized is quite on par with making the lame walk. 

So in conclusion, I experienced a very hard lesson about the importance of Sabbath day rest.  It’s simply one of the life-rhythms God established at the beginning of Creation.  Furthermore, it is a holy blessing, intended to restore our hearts/minds/souls to eternal realities, the things that truly matter, and pull us out of the pain and drama of the daily grind.  This is the only way you keep sane in the midst of life's insanity.  Especially when you’re shooting a horror film at an insane asylum.