It’s been weeks since I raved about The War of Art by Steven Pressfield so I need to ramp it up again. I read a lot and there have been many books that have impacted the way I work but never has one gotten me into the habit of working like this one. The motivational force it contains and unleashes on the unwitting artist is impressive.
I get excited about my studio time throughout my day. On my drive to work I listen to what I did the night before. At lunch, I edit and review and journal about it. On the way home, I visualize my session and think deeply about what I want to accomplish. But with the boy in bed and the day’s chores all done it is still difficult to drag myself into the studio and drop down into the headspace needed for the energizing but draining process. It is so much easier to plop down on the couch with a book or the endless timesuck that is the Internet and accomplish nothing. But the passage from The War of Art that affected me most deeply leaps to mind and literally saves my day:
A professional always shows up.
I think about how tired I was that morning when I got out of bed. Maybe I was a little on the ill side. The urge to call in might have been there, but I didn’t. I got dressed, drove my car to my job, and went to work. I was a professional. And I owe my creative work the same level of respect afforded to my colleagues at my day job. I have to show up for me.
I’m certain that the amount of effort and mental fortitude required to avoid the many and varied distractions available to the modern person have a lot to do with why so many projects don’t get finished or even started. It isn’t easy to close the web browser and open a new empty document or work on that painting that has been languishing on the easel for a month and taunting its creator. How many songs are hummed while mowing the lawn and never get written because someone posted another “How well do you know that guy you went to high school with but haven’t spoken to in over a decade” quizzes on Facebook?
The difference between a novelist and a guy with a story idea is hundreds of hours of work and a finished product that can be pointed to and shared. Well, that and the immense satisfaction that comes from completing something that wasn’t demanded by anyone but himself. Is there anything better than that?
I’m not an extrinsically motivated person. The carrot and the stick are wasted on me. If the desire to do something doesn’t start inside of me, there’s little hope for it. That’s true in any part of my life and I think it’s true for most people. But if we don’t show up, all of that desire is for naught.
And showing up? It feels good. When I leave my studio at the end of even the worst session I still feel better than if I had gone to bed without putting in the time. None of it is wasted when it’s spent developing my craft. The same can’t be said of the myriad toys and silliness that pass for relaxation.
