The Practice

If we choose to do work for generous reasons, and not for reciprocity or a long con but simply because we can, we stop believing that we are owed by others.

To discover that while we believe we’re working toward a goal, the goal of whatever the work is ostensibly for, what we’re actually doing is hiding.

Our desire to please the masses interferes with our need to make something that matters. The masses want mass entertainment, normal experiences, and the pleasure of easy group dynamics. The masses want what the masses want. We already have plenty of stuff that pleases the masses.

The trap is this: only after we do the difficult work does it become our calling. Only after we trust the process does it become our passion. “Do what you love” is for amateurs. “Love what you do” is the mantra for professionals.

If you’re on a journey but it’s rarely causing a spark, you probably need to make better work. Braver work. Work with more empathy. Once you learn to see, you can learn to improve your craft. Combined with your commitment to the practice, it’s inevitable you’ll produce an impact. If you care enough.

The practice is a choice. With discipline, it’s something we can always choose. The practice is there for us, whether or not we feel confident. Especially when we don’t feel confident.

Art is what we call it when we’re able to create something new that changes someone. No change, no art.

When we get really attached to how others will react to our work, we stop focusing on our work and begin to focus on controlling the outcome instead.

The alternative is to trust the process, to do our work with generosity and intent, and to accept every outcome, the good ones as well as the bad.

For the important work, the instructions are always insufficient. For the work we’d like to do, the reward comes from the fact that there is no guarantee, that the path isn’t well lit, that we cannot possibly be sure it’s going to work. It’s about throwing, not catching. Starting, not finishing. Improving, not being perfect.