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What this is really about is listening to your gut and understanding the consequences of not following your intuition. The path is different for everybody. The important thing is to figure out what works for you and what doesn’t. Then do more of the good stuff and less of what turns you off. How very hedonistic, you might say. To that, I’d respond that far too many people these days die with the regret of not having done what they wanted for a career, let alone having lived the life of their dreams. Don’t let this happen to you.
Creative Calling
Chase Jarvis
The artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation. The artist must be like that Marine. He has to know how to be miserable. He has to love being miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.
The War of Art
Steven Pressfield
The baby whale rolled over onto his stomach and the wave from his movement pushed me backward. He looked into my eyes as if he was trying to understand who I was and what I was doing there. I was wondering the same thing about him and I had to ask in a soft voice so I wouldn’t scare him, “What happened to you, little whale? Where is your mother? How did you get lost?” If only I could speak his language. If only I could find out what had happened. Most of all, I wanted to be able to tell him not to worry, that I would try to help. Two hearts in pursuit of the same thing were far stronger than one alone. The baby whale knew this even though we couldn’t speak. Something had brought us together; something much bigger than the two of us. The whale dove and I pressed my face deep into the water so I could watch him. He was close, five feet from me. Holding as still as I could, I floated on my stomach. He didn’t come any closer. He was so big. He seemed to sense that I was a little unsure of him. It surprised me that he didn’t seem the least afraid of me. He floated below the surface. How do you do that? I wondered. I tried, but couldn’t stay at his level. I popped back to the surface like a rubber duck.
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