Struggle & Practice
Have you ever observed closely the work of pure artistry? I watched Robert Thomas for hours one time.
Have you ever read a novel and felt the weight of the world fall away as you were taken to another life in another time and place? My son did about this series.
Have you ever sat at the feet of a sage, lapping up the wisdom of a life spent in introspection? I’ve always thought spending time with Henri Nouwen would be like that.
We all appreciate artistic brilliance.
We all love good story telling.
We all crave wisdom.
When the particular is beautiful, aligned with purpose and call, it has universal appeal. We are drawn to it, in part, because it confirms everyone has a unique, spectacular gift to give the world.
But artistry, writing, and wisdom don’t come easily. They require hours upon hours of struggle and practice.
Your gift to the world won’t come easily either. But it will come, if you’re willing to do the work.
It’s Always the Right Choice
Most purchases can be returned, despite losing the receipt or the limited warranty.
Most contracts can be nullified, despite the small print. So long as you get a lawyer.
Most decisions can be reversed, regardless of your fear of failure or public embarrassment.
But you can never undo insights. You can never un-know information that challenges your former way of being. You can never un-experience a real solution when you’ve finally touched it.
When you’ve set out on the journey that you’re called on, there is no going back. The irreversibility of your journey merely raises the bar of importance. And yet it causes you to question if it was the right choice.
It’s always the right choice.
For you.
And for the world (that will understand, eventually).
Your Yes, Their No
If you say Yes to the call, you’re saying Yes to more than goosebumps and affirmations.
Yes to change is always met with No by those that stand to lose the most by change.
Yes to dreaming and innovating is always met with criticism by the keepers of normal.
Yes to cultivating skills for a craft is often met with a No by pragmatists.
Yes to virtue is inevitably met with a No by those numb to moral conviction.
Your Yes is often others’ No. It’s never easy, often painful, and usually lonely.
Your affirmation must come from within, from a well untainted by others, from an immovable force of support.
Feet or Gurney
Everyone must go.
Intentionally setting out on your voyage and venturing beyond the horizon-of-normal is optional . . . for a while. The offer is there for everyone, but few take it until it’s forced on them.
It can be on your own two feet, facing your demons and detractors (or distractors) head on, or you can be rolled there on a gurney, beat up by complacency, demoralized by status quo, and weakened by a life of denial.
We all leave home one way or another.
Bringing the Past with Us
Imagine if you wrote an autobiography every year. Not just a reflection of that year, but you actually rewrote the whole thing every year.
Where you are and where you are going would change in each version. But from where you’ve come would remain the same, right? The last part of the book would change, but the first part could be cut and pasted from previous versions.
Not exactly.
From where we’ve come changes, too. Facts don’t evolve, but because we grow and change, how and what we see when we look backward changes too. Old experiences take on new meaning, peripheral details become central, and the depths of our insights grow.
Life is lived forward but understood backward. Consider this: if understanding life is part of living then we are always living both forward and backward at the same time.
We are all called to leave home, to leave what is familiar, to be stretched and challenged. But we are not called to forget. The unknown future needs what we have learned from “home”.
The good and more-so the bad.
The beautiful and more-so the ugly.
The intelligence and more-so the ignorance.
Yes, leave, but bring what we have learned with us because the story we’re about to write about our future needs those insights.
Called to Leave
Where are you at home?
Not the address, a description of the cul-de-sac you grew up on, or the neighborhood you live in now. Not even your idea of home, like “where your heart is” or “where everyone knows your name”.
Where are you at home?
What is normal, expected?
Where are you comfortable?
What routine do you follow to avoid the most conflict?
What schedule do you keep to stay even and balanced?
Describe to me the familiar, ordinary, comfortable, and secure life you’ve managed to piece together. That’s where you’re at home. It’s not bad or deficient. It’s not morally hollow or bankrupt.
But you must leave.
We all must leave.
We spend a lifetime building the very “homes” we must finally leave to discover our reason for living.
Home provides shelter, but it also protects us from the uncomfortable battle we must wage with our False Self. Home offers safety and security, but it also inhibits us from embarking on the scary voyage of revelation and discovery.
You are being called.
We all are called.
Your life awaits.
Weekly Summary: Craft III
May 24 - May 28, 2021
Monday: The spirit of craft is not a spirit of limitless freedom first but a spirit of self-awareness. A craft is merely the vehicle by which an artist (broadly defined) displays the hard work of introspection. The spirit of craft is the impulse to understand more deeply—the self, but also the possibilities a given medium offers to communicate accurately and fully oneself.
Tuesday: There’s no room for childishness in craft.
There’s no craft without at least some childlikeness.
Wednesday: Reaching the top of their field was not the end because getting to the top was never the goal. It was never about climbing. It was always about digging—digging so deep into their art, their craft, their vocation, their work, that they would push beyond what many considered the limit.
Thursday: It begins as Divine craft and is gifted to us. It begins as infinite creativity and is offered to us as inspiration, creativity, and the pursuit of beauty (and a deep appreciation for what is beautiful).
Friday: To create in a way that is transparent adds value because it builds trust. Craft is honest . . . Craft is the art of laying new tracks toward the unexplored future . . . Craft is at the intersection between inspiration and productivity . . . Listening closely and caring is inherent in craft.
Are you interested in the whole reflection? Click on any day, and it will take you there.
Want to help grow the community of people like us that are unwilling to continue in ways like this? Help us spread the word: share on Facebook, Twitter, or with a friend via email. Find the links below.
Craft is All of This
[Craft - XX]
A summery of "craft" reflections . . .
Craft is in you. And the world is waiting for it.
Craft is nothing without the high standards of the craftsperson.
Craft is motivated from the inside.
To create in a way that is transparent adds value because it builds trust. Craft is honest.
Craft is the art of laying new tracks toward the unexplored future.
Craft is at the intersection between inspiration and productivity.
Listening closely and caring is inherent in craft.
The truth of craft is the measurement of the consistency between mission and product.
Craft is a commitment to mastery.
A craftsperson is vulnerable. And it comes as a cost to the consumer.
Craft requires heat. Heat is the engine of perseverance and the energy behind desire.
Craft is beautiful. And beauty draws us back again and again.
All craft takes time. Not condensed. Not crammed. But day in and day out.
Perfection drives you crazy. Better drives you forward. A commitment to craft is a commitment to better.
Craft is what art becomes when it’s given focus and is used to accurately (though often indirectly) tell the world who we are.
There’s no craft without childlikeness.
Craft names the process of perpetual learning and growing.
That by which we were made is the same means by which we continue to create. Craft is holy.
The Divine Craft
[Craft - XIX]
There’s a theology to craft, which is a way of saying there is a set of beliefs that undergird it. Everything I’ve said about craft can be sewn together as a type of theological manifesto.
But it’s also a way of saying that when we speak of craft, we are also speaking about ultimate reality—divine reality.
There is an underlying creative force that indwells all of life.
It nudges from behind.
It urges from within.
It beckons forward.
It’s both beyond us and within us. It’s bigger than us and yet somehow carried within us.
It’s not mere energy. And it’s not only creative impulse.
It begins as Divine craft and is gifted to us. It begins as infinite creativity and is offered to us as inspiration, creativity, and the pursuit of beauty (and a deep appreciation for what is beautiful).
We are both products of the Divine craft and carriers of it. That by which we were made is the same means we continue to create.
Craft is holy.
Learning Doesn’t Collect Dust
[Craft - XVIII]
Pick the greatest from any field.
Stephen King.
Michael Jordan.
Stephen Hawking.
Alain Ducasse.
There's a shared quality in their relationship to their craft.
Excellence, sure.
Awards, of course.
Popularity, fine.
But in terms of their relationship to their craft, they all share(d) the insatiable drive for learning and growing.
Reaching the top of their field was not the end because getting to the top was never the goal. It was never about climbing. It was always about digging—digging so deep into their art, their craft, their vocation, their work, that they would push beyond what many considered the limit.
The work was never really about winning (and others loosing). It was about the process of getting better, discovering more, and expanding upon what was thought permanent.
Winning wears off.
Accolades get stale.
Trophies collect dust.
Learning and growing, however, renew every morning.
At Least Some Childlikeness
[Craft - XVII]
Childlike is innocent and trusting.
Childish is immature and foolish.
Childlike is generous and playful.
Childish is greedy and overly rambunctious.
Childlike is sensitive and compassionate.
Childish is self-centered.
Childlike has a sense of wonder.
Childish is pouty and demanding.
Childlike throws parties (make-believe and real).
Childish throws tantrums.
There’s no room for childishness in craft.
There’s no craft without at least some childlikeness.
Accurately is Better
[Craft - XVI]
“Feel free to express yourself however you want.”
There’s a lot of latitude in that kind of freedom. Unlimited.
Perhaps that’s why some are drawn to the arts. There’s an implicit freedom to express oneself. But that’s not the appeal of craft.
Expression of self is fine. Expression of self accurately is better.
The spirit of craft is not a spirit of limitless freedom first but a spirit of self-awareness. A craft is merely the vehicle by which an artist (broadly defined) displays the hard work of introspection. The spirit of craft is the impulse to understand more deeply—the self, but also the possibilities a given medium offers to communicate accurately and fully oneself.
Craft is what art becomes when it’s given focus and is used to accurately (though often indirectly) tell the world who we are.
Weekly Roundup: Craft II
May 17- May 21, 2021
Monday: The person behind the filet at the winery or the artisan duck dish at the farm-to-table meal matter. Not their nametag, but the person. There are no bureaucratic barriers. There's no “system" to uphold. Only excellence.
Tuesday: Any artisan will tell you that proficiency takes practice, but excellence requires the burn of passion. There’s a smoldering fire that must burn in the background of pure skills that moves the needle from good to great, nice to beautiful, complete to exquisite.
Wednesday: “Because it keeps my farm beautiful, and a farm that is beautiful draws me to it. I want to be there. I want to work. An unkept farm repels. Beauty draws me back.”
Thursday: And over a year or more the small, steady investment becomes something big and beautiful. (Too big and beautiful to fit into a weekend!)
Friday: The pursuit of better is not futile. To be better simply means one degree closer to a predetermined goal than before. (No, the goal can’t be perfection.)
Are you interested in the whole reflection? Click on any day, and it will take you there.
Want to help grow the community of people like us that are unwilling to continue in ways like this? Help us spread the word: share on Facebook, Twitter, or with a friend via email. Find the links below.
Better Not Perfect
[Craft - XV]
The pursuit of perfect is futile. And potentially unhealthy. The very concept of “perfect” is misleading because within it is the lie that the sum of many fallible, flawed variables, is something flawless.
The pursuit of better is not futile. To be better simply means one degree closer to a predetermined goal than before. (No, the goal can’t be perfection.)
Better taste.
Better feel.
Better handling.
Better speed.
Better access.
Perfection drives you crazy. Better drives you forward.
A commitment to craft is a commitment to better.
Writing Retreats?
[Craft - XIV]
Small increments, daily.
I like the idea of a writing retreat. But not for writing. At least not large project.
Writing retreats, despite their name, are most often journaling retreats. Which is fine. Crafting a large writing project that takes, say, over 500+ hours, is hardly something that can be crammed into a 48 hour retreat. And if you split the 500 hours up into 48 hour increments, and plan 10 or more retreats, each of them a cram session, it still wouldn’t work. You’d go mad and hate the project before completion.
Writing retreats are an uninterrupted time of capturing where you (or your project) are right now, this weekend. They are a snapshot of a moment, a day, or a weekend. They are closer to journaling.
Writers that take the craft seriously, write. Every day. One or two or four hours. And in the course of a year or more, they finish a big, audacious project.
All craft takes time.
Not condensed.
Not crammed.
But everyday, stretched over long periods of time.
And over a year or more the small, steady investment becomes something big and beautiful. (Too big and beautiful to fit into a weekend!)
Beauty Draws Us Back
[Craft - XIII]
A small market gardener was asked once why he forged his own hand tools: A special hoe for weeding the tomatoes, another one for keeping the cabbage under control, and a different one for his beds of garlic and onions.
He said, “If I use them every day, I want them to work perfectly.”
Then he was asked why he would weed every day.
“Because it keeps my farm beautiful, and a farm that is beautiful draws me to it. I want to be there. I want to work. An unkept farm repels. Beauty draws me back.”
Craft is beautiful.
And beauty draws us back.
Requiring Heat
[Craft - XII]
I have a friend that does incredible iron work. Chandeliers, elaborate stair railings, intricate signs . . . he does it all.
Curious about his craft, I asked him one time, “So, how does one become a metalsmith? How do you go from banging pieces of metal into place like I do to forging metal artwork?”
I was looking for a process, a training, or some kind of apprenticeship suggestions. Instead, I got a one-word answer.
“Heat. It’s all about heat. None of it is possible without red-hot metal.”
That’s true about every craft.
Any artisan will tell you that proficiency takes practice, but excellence requires the burn of passion. There’s a smoldering fire that must burn in the background of pure skills that moves the needle from good to great, nice to beautiful, complete to exquisite.
The heat burns away the chaff of self-doubt, and the impurities of the fear of failure. Heat is the engine of perseverance and the energy behind desire.
Craft requires heat.
The Cost of Craft
[Craft - XI]
What the chef’s name behind the massive steak at Outback Steakhouse?
Who’s working the soft-serve machine at Dairy Queen?
Who assembled my egg sandwich for my Embassy Sweets continental breakfast?
In large, efficient systems, names only matter for bureaucratic protocol. (And it’s less about the name and more about the nametag above the left pocket, as part of the uniform.)
The person behind the nametag that reads Johnny or Juan doesn’t matter. Only consistency, uniformity, and the mirage of hospitality. Anonymity matters more. The system matters more.
The person behind the filet at the winery or the artisan duck dish at the farm-to-table meal matter. Not their nametag, but the person. There are no bureaucratic barriers. There's no “system" to uphold. Only excellence.
The chef’s reputation is on the line.
The diner’s experience is on the line.
Everyone’s relationship to good food is on the line.
And it costs.
Craft costs the craftsman in vulnerability.
And craft cost the consumer in price.
Weekly Roundup: Craft
May 10 - May 14, 2021
Monday: Craft is the name of the intersection between . . .
inspiration and productivity,
calling and creation,
passion and skill,
zeal and braun.
Tuesday: Anyone can be attentive once, but the virtue of attentiveness is a commitment to listening and caring over time.
Wednesday: 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.
Thursday: 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.
Friday: I want to commit to my craft long enough and with enough intentionality that I become the kind of person that adds measurable value and improvement to the lives of those in my community, and from there I will teach others the mastery of my craft, that I might have a multiplying influence on the world.
Are you interested in the whole reflection? Click on any day, and it will take you there.
Want to help grow the community of people like us that are unwilling to continue in ways like this? Help us spread the word: share on Facebook, Twitter, or with a friend via email. Find the links below.
Multiplying Mastery
[Craft - X]
Instead of . . .
I want to change the world.
I want to be an influencer.
I want to be the greatest X.
How about . . .
I want to commit to my craft long enough and with enough intentionality that I become the kind of person that adds measurable value and improvement to the lives of those in my community, and from there I will teach others the mastery of my craft, that I might have a multiplying influence on the world.
Or, do we just want to be the kind of people that say we want to change the world?
Your choice.