The Truth of Craft
[Craft - IX]
Every company is theoretically committed to excellence. (I’m not sure why it still makes it into the mission statement.)
Every organization is committed to service. (I don’t know why it’s front and center on the promotional material.)
Every faith community is committed to welcoming and loving. (Not sure why it’s printed on the t-shirts.)
But here's an often forgotten part of craft: Truth telling is a priority.
And telling the truth is less about words (on letterhead and t-shirts and promo material) and more about the implicit message within the product, service, or action.
The truth of craft can be measured by the consistency between mission and product.
There’s More In You
[Craft - VIII]
You can keep showing up on time, producing what’s expected of you, and earning your paycheck. It pays the bills and pads the funds.
Or, you can listen to the voice that insists there’s more. Not more hobbies, more screens, more vacation, and more of your favorite drink. No, there's more . . . of you.
There’s more in you.
There’s more to you.
There’s more about you.
That “more” is an undiscovered frontier waiting for exploration. And waiting to contribute.
That “more” is half of the craft equation. The other half is the skills you’re acquiring along the way.
(And you don’t necessarily have to change the job you’re in.)
Attending to Others
[Craft - VII]
What turns coaching into an art . . . and not just the dictating of bodies and balls?
Cooking into a craft . . . and not just the assembly of ingredients?
Building into a creative activity . . . and not just slapping together wood and nails and concrete?
Landscaping into a thing of beauty . . . and not just dirt and plants?
Attentiveness.
Anyone can be attentive once, but the virtue of attentiveness is a commitment to listening and caring over time.
The cost is a bit of time and effort.
The payoff is craft.
And the payoff is immeasurable, in the end.
Breath and Feet
[Craft - VI]
True inspiration is a divine gift. “Inspire" comes from the Latin words “to divinely blow into”, after all.
But inspiration is mere energy until it touches the ground, until the breath has feet.
When breath and feet partner in the “dance” of creating, there is craft.
Or, craft is the name of the intersection between . . .
inspiration and productivity,
calling and creation,
passion and skill,
zeal and braun.
Laying New Track
[Craft - V]
A builder finishes a project.
A manufacturer completes an order, ships, and sends.
A lawyer closes a case.
A fireman/woman extinguishes a fire (or rescues a kitten).
For an artist, there is no completion of their craft.
Creative expression is never a terminal to which an artist arrives. A painting may be finished, or an album recorded and produced, but an artist's work is an ever-evolving and expanding enterprise. An artist is always laying new track.
An artist is committed to the craft that is the track yet laid.
(Yes, a builder, manufacturer, lawyer, and fireman/woman can engage their work as an artist, too. But it first must be seen as a craft.)
Craft is Honest
[Craft - IV]
An externality is the cost of a product on a third party, not factored into the cost of production.
A byproduct is an incidental outcome from the manufacturing or creation of a product.
A side effect is an unintended, often undesirable, effect of a product.
Collateral damage is any unintended destruction or death associated with an activity or product.
I’m not sure why we have all the qualifiers.
Is not externality just hidden costs?
Isn’t the byproduct really just a part of the product?
A side effect might be unintended, but if it’s consistent, isn’t it just an effect?
And collateral damage . . . is just damage, right?
Craft doesn’t hide costs, effects, or damage. To create in a way that is transparent adds value because it builds trust.
Craft is honest.
Motivated from the Inside
[Craft - III]
You may be really good at what you do. Congratulations. You might even set the standard for your industry. That’s great. You’ve likely won awards. Sure is affirming.
Those are all professional measurements. But they aren’t measurements of craft.
Craft is measured by mastery, and mastery is not an arrival at a podium; mastery is the momentary acknowledgement that you’ve come a really long way toward excellence . . . and tomorrow you will go further.
Craft earns accolades but is not motivated by them. Awards come from the outside.
Craft is motivated by the possibility of continued improvement, the pursuit of beauty, and the dream of perfection. Craft is motivated from the inside.
Level Playing Field
[Craft - II]
Historically a craftsperson had three things that others did not.
Specific tools for their trade.
Training from a master craftsperson.
Devotion to a high standard for their craft.
#1 is no longer. The equipment to create a short film, for example, may have cost $100,000 in 1988. Now, the tool is in your pocket and on your desk. And they cost less than one month’s rent.
#2 is becoming easier. Sure, true craftsmanship might require in-person apprenticing, but most insights by experts are being made available online. Often free.
What’s left?
High standards. Technological development doesn’t influence that. Access to information doesn’t have an impact. Devotion to a high standard was, is, and always will be a choice of the one creating.
It’s a choice each of us have every day.
The leveling of the playing field doesn’t mean we must "level down" how we play.
This One, Not That One
[Craft - I]
This meal is not craft.
This meal is close.
This knife is not craft.
This one is.
So are these.
This boat, not craft.
This one, for sure.
This magazine. Nope.
This one. Obviously.
I want to spend a few days working through the purpose and place of craft in an “uncrafted”, mass-market world.
You have a craft.
Perhaps not yet. But it’s in you.
And there are people out here, like me, and like the person you don’t know yet, that will be uniquely drawn to and blessed by your commitment to contribute something meaningful and beautiful to the world.
Weekly Roundup: Doubt
April 26 - 30, 2001
Monday: While doubt is dark, it is not darkness. It is heavy, but it is not wrong. It is scary, but it is not bad. If anything, doubt signals immanent growth.
Tuesday: Don’t look inside the doubt for clues. It’s often too dark to see.
Look around it to find which connections are missing.
Wednesday: There are no prescriptions other than those that allow the doubt to breathe. Time. Space. Compassion. Understanding. Anything else only augments the doubt.
Thursday: Doubt comes in the dark, prefers the shadows, and will slip in a cracked window if given the chance. It’s often rude, shaming, and dismissive. It’s not always bad, but it is always suspect.
Friday: You don’t tell someone they’re safe (fact or not). They feel it. You don’t tell someone they’re encouraged (fact or not). You do it.
Are you interested in the whole reflection? Click on any day, and it will take you there.
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Facts Don’t Influence It
[Doubt - V]
There’s an inside and outside to doubt.
Outside is uncertainty.
Inside is skepticism.
Facts don’t influence either part. Experience does.
What experiences build confidence, certainty, and reliability? What experiences relieve skepticism?
It’s not the accumulation of information; it’s not a convincing argument.
Safety.
Encouragement.
You don’t tell someone they’re safe (fact or not). They feel it. You don’t tell someone they’re encouraged (fact or not). You do it.
Appraisal in the Light
[Doubt - IV]
Self-appraisal is not doubt. Sure, we can be too critical of ourselves, and that can lead to self-doubt, doubt in our call, and doubt of our beliefs, but honest self-appraisal is not doubt.
Self-appraisal comes in the light. It knocks, asks for permission to come in, and sits on the couch for a hard conversation. It’s often polite, never slanderous, and takes its time for the sake of understanding.
Doubt comes in the dark, prefers the shadows, and will slip in a cracked window if given the chance. It’s often rude, shaming, and dismissive. It’s not always bad, but it is always suspect.
Self-appraisal is necessary. Keep the lights on, take notes, and progress honestly and slowly. Don’t confuse it for doubt.
Doubt is necessary, too, but turn the lights on, invite a trusted friend for support, and don’t take it personal. (Also, invite faith to join the conversation.)
H/T Julia Cameron
It’s Not A Sickness
[Doubt - III]
Doubt looks like neediness from the outside. The doubter is disoriented, directionless, and even desperate.
Because doubt strikes to our core.
Core beliefs.
Core assumptions.
Core ideology.
Core understanding.
Core “facts”.
Naturally, when one wrestles with doubt, the whole foundation of life can suffer tremors.
But, it is not neediness.
It’s not a weakness or a sickness.
It’s not a lack of anything. It’s not a deficiency.
It’s not a problem or condition.
There are no prescriptions other than those that allow the doubt to breathe. Time. Space. Compassion. Understanding.
Anything else only augments the doubt.
Doubt Strikes the Lonely
[Doubt - II]
Loneliness is not a crowd issue. 5 or 5,000 people don’t determine if one is lonely. The numbers are an objective measurement. They measure different degrees of isolation. But loneliness is a subjective experience of connection, and it can happen despite a crowd.
Intimate connection occurs in a very small, closely acquainted group.
Relational connection happens in a slightly larger, trustworthy group.
Public connection happens in a like-minded crowd.
All three connections contribute to a sense of community, a sense of belonging.
Stripped of any of those connections, and we risk loneliness.
Community breaks down.
Validation wanes.
Doubt sets in.
Don’t look inside the doubt for clues. It’s often too dark to see.
Look around it to find which connections are missing.
Under Our Feet of Certainty
[Doubt - I]
Doubt is not purely a theological “subject” or a religious category.
Doubt is also an emotion. A heavy, dark emotion that’s turned in on the one who bears it . . . because it questions the very legitimacy of the one who feels it.
Doubtfulness.
Doubtful.
Doubting.
These can be directed toward ourself, calling, and gifts.
Our contribution, ideas, and work.
Our understanding, insights, and wisdom.
Our God, truth, and convictions.
While doubt is dark, it is not darkness. It is heavy, but it is not wrong. It is scary, but it is not bad.
If anything, doubt signals immanent growth.
How else can we build a new foundation unless we first dig in the unknown, dark, cold earth beneath our feet of certainty?
Appreciation Go-Between
[Self-Pity - V]
The opposite of self-pity is not stoicism.
Or inner strength.
Or mental toughness.
The opposite of self-pity is self-appreciation. And it takes practices. (Trust me, I’m terrible at it.)
Self-pity and under-appreciation are fellows, but we often miss how they relate.
When our team, family, and coworkers don’t appreciate what we’re offering, we can feel pity. When our clients or friends don’t recognize our effort, we can feel pity. When our colleagues, patients, and church members aren't thankful for our investment, we can feel pity.
But there’s a go-between. Standing in the middle of others' lack of appreciation and our self-pity is a “person” wearing bright yellow, holding a traffic sign that reads STOP on one side and SLOW on the other. He (or she) literally controls the flow of traffic.
That person is you and your own affirmation.
You either echo the lack of appreciation and criticism of your coworkers or you sincerely affirm your own effort.
You either repeat the criticism of your clients or you learn from it and reshape it into positive, productive feedback.
You either restate your colleagues rude comments or your reframe them as compliments.
Self-pity and under-appreciation are fellows.
But there’s a go-between.
And it’s you.
Let’s practice genuinely appreciating ourself.
Rest and Self-Pity
[Self-Pity - IV]
What’s the correlation between self-pity and exhaustion?
Self-pity and fatigue?
Self-pity and lack of sleep?
I find that I pity myself when I’m lying on the floor or slouched in a chair after a long day/week/month of heavy lifting.
There’s a quiet whisper inside self-pity. Sometimes silent and subliminal.
“Please rest."
I don’t think exhaustion causes self-pity. A lack of creativity does. And when the reserves of our creative problem solving, creative self-reflection, and creative ways of processing have run dry, we rely on the critical refrains of the “world" to problem solve, reflect, and process. And the collective voice of the “world" is usually critical, lacking appreciation, and unaware of nuance.
Rest literally replenishes our creative energy.
Rest awakens our self-appreciation.
Authority to Perceive
[Self-Pity - III]
Self-pity masquerades as a lack of appreciation from others. Lack of acknowledgement. Lack of recognition. Lack of what we deserve.
But self-pity is actually my own lack of self-appreciation. Lack of personal recognition. Lack of appreciating my work.
Buckling down and forcing myself to say something positive about my work doesn’t help. Because it doesn’t address the problem. The problem is not an unwillingness to self-affirm. That’s the surface. Beneath it is the question, Who gets the authority to perceive?
I do.
Self-pity gives the authority to others.
Subject to the jury of the world, I will always be found guilty of not enough creativity, not enough brilliance, not enough compassion, or not enough productivity.
That’s not my view.
That’s not my perspective.
Managing self-pity well begins with the declaration: This is what I see.
Little & Local
[Self-Pity - II]
My brother, Rob, wrestled down his thoughts on self-pity. I was encouraged by what he finally pinned to the mat: not a theory about the emotion but a small pragmatic shift that boosts confidence and motivation.
He found that self-pity is the emotional repercussion of focusing on "the missing, the lost, or the could have been.”
"It is a negative comparison to what others have (and we don’t).
What others have accomplished (and we haven’t.
Or, what we think they will accomplish (and we won’t)."
He finds helpful the concept of Relative Deprivation, as introduce to him by Malcom Gladwell. In part, it’s "how you feel about your abilities that shapes your willingness to tackle challenges and finish difficult tasks. That willingness is a crucial element in motivation and confidence”.
Rob suggests we remove (or remove ourselves from) the destructive impulse to compare ourselves to others. Instead of focusing on what they have (and we don’t), we ought to focus on "what is present, what we have, and what we can do.”
Start with the little and the local.
Small acts of kindness.
Small steps of faith.
Small sacrifices made.
Small risks taken.
All of these are within your capabilities today.
"What we can do today might be the little mustard seed of difference and a foundation for tomorrow.”
Swallowing Them Whole
[Self-Pity - I]
Self-pity is not bad.
I repeat, self-pity does not have a value; it is not bad.
It just is.
It is normal.
It is understandable.
It makes sense.
I have never met a child experiencing self-pity, which is curious.
I have met children that are discouraged.
Unhappy.
Demoralized
Even depressed.
Self-pity has an “adult” wrinkle to it. It measures "the odds". It sees the world as the field on which we compete for “making it” and weighs the low chance of “success” or the impossibility of “achieving”. It bemoans other’s assessment and perceptions and swallows them whole—as fact, as determinative, as real.
The world is adversarial and I am weak.
The world is diabolical and I am hollow.
The world is impossible and I am insecure.
Children are fed the disempowering ingredients of self-pity until it becomes their own. The cards are stacked against them, and the obstacles are too great to even try.
Then they grow up.
And become me.