It got me thinking about the nature of thankless work. So much of what we do as creatives is thankless. It’s process. It’s iteration. It’s cranking away with the hopes that the finished work will vindicate us (no emergencies needed). But no one sees the internal turmoil, the questioning or the little choices we make that cost us something. We make these choices because we love our craft, not because of recognition.

When we choose a path of contribution, it often means a choice to forgo recognition for our work. Commitment to excellence means doing things right even when it may never be seen by another living soul.

So…here’s a question: what’s the most thankless (but meaningful) work you do?

Seyed Mostafa Zamani / Flickr

This morning I was reading Jane Friedman’s excellent post about the over-emphasis on passion, and it resonated deeply. Jane makes the case that our over-emphasis on passion sometimes negates the importance of hard work.

If I were to summarize much of the career advice circulating throughout the web, it would look something like this:

1. Find your passion
(1a. Buy my course for $_9 and I’ll show you how)
2. Quit your job
3. Watch the money flow in

Is passion important? Surely. Is it the most important factor in doing great work? I have my doubts. Some of the most effective contributors throughout time have been marked by two characteristics: they were (a) reluctant, but (b) resolved. They saw the great task before them, but they were determined to surmount obstacles because they recognized an opportunity and felt the urgency of the moment.

Yesterday I jotted a few thoughts about the nature of contribution:

1. Your days are numbered. Finite. They will someday run out.
This is indisputable. We live with the stubborn illusion that we will always have tomorrow to do today’s work. It’s a lie.

2. You have a unique contribution to make to the world.
Your combination of interests, skills and experiences is unique. There is something you can offer that no one else ever could.

3. No one else can make that contribution for you.
Waiting for permission to act on your contribution is the easy way out. So is playing the victim or politics. We all must deal with the time and circumstances we’re dealt.

4. Your contribution is not about you.
You may be recognized for your contribution, and if so that’s fine. You may also labor in obscurity doing brilliant work your entire life, and that’s fine too. There is an over-emphasis on celebrity in our culture, and it will eventually be the death of us.

5. To varying degrees, you have been lied to, dulled, and sold out.
Others do not want you to embrace your contribution, because it puts a mandate on them to do the same. Others want to assimilate you into neat systems that feed their ego. They do this by making you comfortable. The love of comfort is often the enemy of greatness. Break out.

6. The path forward is backward. To discover your contribution you must get to bedrock.
Don’t be a mirror, passively reflecting the priorities of others. To discover your contribution you must (MUST) do some serious excavation. You must get past the rubble to the bedrock principles that will drive your life, come hell or high water.

7. Your contribution is a polaroid, not a digital photo.
Expect that your contribution will become clear over time as you act. It will develop slowly like a polaroid photo, giving you clues as you experiment, fail and succeed. Patience is required. This is a long-arc game, but it must begin now.

8. You must curate your life around your contribution.
What you plant today you reap in a few years. You must structure your life around your contribution, building practices and activities that cause you to take new ground each day.

9. Your contribution will always be a gift to others.
Whatever your contribution, it will be something for others. It may challenge, dispute, encourage or inspire, but it will provide a platform for others to find their contribution as well. Your contribution is one way of loving others.

Don’t go to your grave with your best work still inside of you. Die Empty. – The Accidental Creative, p. 217

10. You have one job: get whatever is in you out.
Your one and only job today, and every day, is to get whatever is in you out. Not tomorrow’s work, not yesterday’s work, but today’s. On my computer monitor is a note that reads, “Can I lay my head down tonight satisfied with the work I did today?” If I have made my contribution that day, I can rest with a clean conscience.

Do not be dulled, friends. Do not allow the lull of comfort to cause you to abdicate your contribution. Stay sharp. Keep your edges. Nothing – NOTHING – is worth giving up the most precious thing you have to offer.

==

Photo Credit: Seyed Mostafa Zamani

Regardless of how resolute we truly are, I believe New Year’s Day is an important rite of passage. Every year I find that it forces me to reflect on how I want to be different in the upcoming year. I have to wrestle with the delta – the change I want to make through my actions, disciplines and choices. I get to stare for a brief moment at the photo that’s developing and see who I’m becoming.

Here is who I desire to become in increasing measure this year:

Ground-taker. I spent a big part of 2011 releasing The Accidental Creative. It’s hard to gauge the exact toll that took on my ability to create new content, but it was pretty extensive. I spent more of my time talking and writing about old thoughts than I did generating new ones. (Most of my new thoughts, in fact, were about how to better share the old ones.) This year I am resolved to spend more time taking new ground rather than tilling old ground.

Story-lover. I plan to read about 40 books this year (in addition to the journals, magazines and websites I regularly read.) I’ll share most of them on this site as I finish them. Of these new books, 25% will be fiction. This is new, unsettled ground for me, as I much prefer non-fiction, but I’m realizing lately that I need to care for my soul as much as my mind. I need fiction to arouse my humanity. (Any suggestions?)

Artist. I spend much of my time working with artists and creatives helping them discover how to unleash their potential. It’s a pretty great gig. Really. But I’ve found that as my art has become more and more about helping others unleash their art, I’ve lost balance. My ambition this year is to re-embrace the everyday work of art and to integrate it into the moments between the moments.

Rites of passage offer us the opportunity to reflect on who we are, and who we are becoming (sometimes again). There is nothing special about New Year’s Day, except that it affords us a new beginning. A fresh start. A new frame.

Who are you becoming this year?

As new technologies emerge that make it easier to share ideas, gain fans for your work, and influence the marketplace conversation, there is increasing celebration on the web about how these new models of distribution are making it possible for anyone to have a platform. In other words, if you have something to say, there is no one standing guard at the gate (e.g. publishers, music labels, TV Networks, etc.) telling you whether or not you’ll have access to the masses in order to share your idea.

This is remarkable indeed. There should, in fact, be much rejoicing.

Until…one day we wake up and realize that all media is now digital, which means that there is no longer perceived scarcity. This means that artists have to shift their business models to give away (or make available for cheap) their main art, and instead focus on selling scarce peripherals. Authors sell lectures. No longer able to make a living from recording, bands sell tickets to concerts and survive off of merchandise sales. Content creators give away their content in order to gain eyeballs and ears, but the glut of content makes advertising profitable only to those savvy enough to take advantage of it, or to the aggregators of the content (ironcially, the “networks” of the web.)

The problem is…some people are just great at being artists. They aren’t great at business models, distribution or line extensions. They just want to make great, valuable art and sell it at a fair price. What do these people do?

The web-perts say “adapt or die!” From a business standpoint, they’re probably right. From a cultural standpoint, my heart sinks and weeps.

Would we have had The Beatles if they’d been told, “Never mind spending years in the studio crafting your records. Those things are just promotional fodder to sell these snazzy Sgt. Pepper t-shirts and posters. You should focus instead on how you’re going to monetize.”

I don’t know.

What cultural gaps will exist when we make the creation of art financially unprofitable? What happens when the thrill of having eyeballs and ears on your work wears off? (In other recent news, scientists have pinpointed that this “enthusiasm lag” seems to correlate with the monthly arrival of the bills.)

I fear that in the “race to the bottom” we are devaluing art. We’ve shifted the conversation so that the scarce piece of the business model is the plastic or paper rather than the years of sweat and focus that went into crafting the content. When our mindset is that digital books should be cheap because there’s “no paper” involved, or that music should be free because there’s no physical cost of distribution, we are ignoring the inherent value of art to the sustenence of our culture.

Yes, I realize this is a rant and I also realize that I probably sound out-of-touch with much of what’s being said about where the marketplace is speeding. I am excited about these new technologies, and I’m thrilled that more artists have unprecedented ability to connect with potential fans. Truly. Deeply. I am one of those artists.

I am not taking a contrarian position. I believe in where technology is leading us. This is simply a cautionary tale.

My concern here is that we are building models in which artists will get pushed to the side and that – in the end – our culture will wake up with a giant hangover wondering what in the world we did last night. I’m concerned that we’re killing our artists in order to get their art, and in the end we will lose both.

If you asked me if I am grateful for the opportunities, relationships and things in my life, I would – of course – say yes. If you look at my life, it’s pretty clear that I way out-kicked my coverage. At the same time, my obsession with what’s next sometimes prevents me from taking the time to really internalize or express my gratitude.

This thought came to mind yesterday, and I think it’s one that will end up on my wall in some form: sometimes the best way forward is to look backward.

When we are constantly nexting, we miss opportunities to enjoy the wonderful journey we’re on. We miss the whole point.

In the words of a wise philosopher/rocker,

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”  - John Lennon, Beautiful Boy

I don’t want to miss my life because I’m too busy worried about where it’s headed.

I hope that you will join me and take a few moments today to look backward before you move forward.

Left unchecked, this fear of insufficiency can lead to paralysis and depression. (In some extreme cases, it can actually have significant health effects as well.) I believe it’s a primary source of creative block, underperformance and disengagement in the workplace.

Here’s some truth: you are perfectly sufficient to engage in your work today. Don’t allow the fear of failure to rob you of the possibility of success. Failure is only permanent when you stop working or allow fear to keep you from trying at all.

It’s better to know your limits than to live with the delusion of invulnerability. You can work with limits, and grow them. Self-delusion, however, is permanent and deadly.

What are you afraid might happen? Sometimes the fear of the unknown prevents us from taking first steps in a project, or prevents us from fully engaging in the midst of one. Take a few minutes to think about what you’re afraid of. Are you afraid of falling short? Discovering that you’re not as good as you’d hoped? Feeling the scorn or mockery of your peers? Letting loved ones down? Identifying the root causes of your deeper fears often clears the path for more focus and deeper engagement.

Where are you too comfortable? The love of comfort is frequently the enemy of greatness. When we grow too comfortable with our circumstances, it often diminishes our drive to continue growing, which can subsequently lead to stagnation and mental ruts. Are there habits, systems, relationships, or dependencies in your life that feel like a warm blanket but that are slowly suffocating your desire to produce brilliant work?

Where are you confused? Dissonance is a break between the “why” and the “what” of our work. When this gap presents itself, our minds go to work trying to resolve it, but this extra pattern-forming distracts us from the true work we should be doing. Often this results in procrastination, frustration or a general lack of traction. Do you need more information? Are you asking the right questions? Is there something you’ve been ignoring that’s now screaming for your attention? Make sure you’ve clearly defined your work and that you know what you’re really trying to do.

We learn as we act, so I believe that we need to be predisposed to movement rather than reflection.

Are you unsure of what drives you? Relying on the wrong motivators can cause stagnation as well. We are all motivated to varying degrees by three things: pay, prestige and process. Pay is our compensation for our work, including benefits and perks. Prestige is recognition for our contribution and career progress. Process is the doing of the work and intrinsic motivation to produce our best. Which of these motivates you the most? Of course we all want to be process motivated, but that’s not always the case in every situation. By tapping into the things that really motivate you to produce, you can ignite a spark that can jumpstart your creative engine.

Have you thought about what’s really at stake? This is about more the you simply cranking out another widget or satisfying another client’s desires. This is your life. This is your expression. You will never have another opportunity to re-live today and do your best. Are you squandering your one and only opportunity to get it right today? Many of us live with the delusion that we’ll always have tomorrow to do our best work. Someday those tomorrows will run out.

Life really is remarkably short. We only have so much time to figure this thing out, but nothing comes to clarity through a lack of action. We learn as we act, so I believe that we need to be predisposed to movement rather than reflection.

Your Turn:

These are a few of the questions that have helped me do a self-analysis. How about you? Are there others that have helped you get over yourself and get moving on your work?

[Cue the interlude music titled “Welcome To My Psychosis”]

As I awoke this morning, with the dream still fresh in my mind, I reflected on how many times I’ve engaged in this exact kind of behavior in life and work. I’ve noticed a problem, but for some inexplicable reason allowed it to continue unchecked even though a little effort now could have saved a lot of pain later. I immediately began thinking about where there are “tarantulas in the corners” of my life.

Strategy. It’s so (SO!) easy to defer strategic decisions when there doesn’t seem to be an imminent threat to the organization. However, the threat becomes much more real when the tarantula escapes the corner and is poised to inflict a deadly wound. Better to make decisions when the situation is recognized than to defer and default. As long as the tension exists it will cast a shadow over all other activities.

Email. I’ve been out of town (and the country!) for several days with a client. When I’m out of the pocket, I tend to allow e-mail to accumulate to dangerous levels. (The “she’s about to blow, captain” kind of dangerous.) I’m realizing that 30 minutes each morning while away can resolve a lot of the angst I feel when re-entering the atmosphere after an extended trip. Knowing something is sitting in my inbox is like seeing the tarantula and walking away from it.

Relationships. Sometimes there are little ticking “time bombs” that are immediately acknowledged in relationships but aren’t dealt with. These can be with clients, friends or family members, but when they aren’t immediately dealt with they create long-term angst. Better to deal with them immediately.

These are a few of my “tarantulas in the corner”. How about you? Are there problems you’re ignoring/deferring because you don’t want to deal with them right now? Better to cage the tarantula now than to deal with the uncertainty and angst later.