“Reassurance is futile.”
Note: Links in this post may be affiliate links, which means I’ll receive a commission, at no extra charge to you, if you make a purchase through such a link. Learn more here.
Notes
Decisions : outcomes :: process : outcomes
In poker (via Annie Duke), a good decision does not necessarily lead to a good outcome. (Also: a bad outcome does not necessarily indicate a bad decision.)
In creative work, generous intention (instantiated in process) does not necessarily lead to a good outcome (e.g., financial or critical success).
Focusing on outcomes will destroy your work.
Thoughts
Seth is emphasizing a part of his definition of art (or creative work): a generous act that might not work.
This addresses, at least obliquely, what I mentioned in my comments on the earlier chapter: that my fear of being “not enough” is less focused on starting (I start ALL THE THINGS), but on finishing. And his point is that the outcome—a work’s success or failure, whatever those terms happen to mean—really isn’t evidence of anything.
I think I do fear that “failure” will indicate that I’m “not enough”—not a good enough guitar player, not a good enough singer, not a good enough mixer. But Seth suggests (or, at least, my reading suggests) two things:
First, there is no necessary connection between the work’s (potential) failure and my “enoughness.” I may indeed suck at guitar or singing or mixing, but that judgment needs to be based on my actual skills, not on the success or failure of the work. (And skills can be certainly be developed, while outcomes are always uncertain!)
Second, what’s important is the generous commitment to the process.
I’m still struggling a bit with understanding what “The Practice” actually is, yet. As I’ve said, Seth seems to be laying groundwork (primarily psychological groundwork). But I am already starting to make some progress, I think: I’ve adapted my morning routine to include attention to music—for now, developing a better knowledge of the fretboard (something that, 40+ years into guitar, I should have mastered long ago). And I’ve finally recognized that my processes for planning my day have avoided including music in that plan.
I don’t know how I never noticed that before. I’ve certainly felt frustration with myself at how little time or attention I’ve given to my music, but I guess I thought this was just the way things happened to be.
So, despite the fact that I’m still waiting for some guidance on how to build a practice, Seth’s book has contributed to these changes. Indeed, it may end up that the changes are so individual that it’s psychological groundwork all the way down.
This series is meant to capture my thoughts as I work through Seth Godin’s The Practice. It’s a book with over 200 (very short) chapters, which I hope to work through and, I further hope, to implement over time.
If you’re interested in more of Godin’s ideas, or my thoughts about them, you can check out this collection of posts. Note that if you’re more interested in the former, you should probably get Godin’s book and read it yourself; my notes will be both incomplete and idiosyncratic, and my thoughts will relate to my own experience.
But if my thoughts resonate with you, or if you think I’m just silly, I welcome your comments.