I like to use the outer world as a playground/laboratory.  All too often, I’ve seen people (myself included) claim that they’re different, reinvented, or changed.  New clothes, addresses, hair…yet their habits/views remain stuck in stagnancy.  External results are a rough barometer that let me know if I’m walking the walk or if I’m simply running my mouth.

Every now and then, it becomes clear how much of a game the Universe really is.  In those moments of clarity, I get to shift my focus off the board and onto the players.  Something whispers to me that I should push myself harder-enjoy myself even more.  Because in the end, I’m gone.  And that’s not a bad thing.

Who’s to say I ever existed?

Being addicted to comfort will lead me astray-just like being addicted to harshness will.  That fickle tightrope that stretches between the two, the one that lets me hold myself accountable, is objective introspection.

I love me those Teddy Roosevelt, Bruce Lee underdog stories just as much as the next person:  About how hard work conquers all.  But I think the enthusiasm we tell these peoples’ tales with belies the reality; yes, the recounting of their lives may seem inspirational and ear-catching, but it leaves out the feel of mind numbing mundanity and repetitive stress of practicing over and over and over.  Working from sunup to sundown, and even strategizing rest and sleep to be more productive.  Honestly, I get inspired when that truthful, soul-wearying grind is portrayed; it may not seem pretty, but that’s where the real beauty is at.

A route to personal evolution:

1.  Pursue what is pleasurable.
2. Pursue what makes you better.
3. Refine perspective of the pursuit itself; step 2 becomes as enjoyable as step 1.

Application of intellect reveals how pointless our lives are:  We live for a short span and are confined to one world among billions.  But wisdom and maturity dictate that we try our absolute best, and enjoy every second of it.  Because if our time is fleeting, then why not?  Shallow dips into indulgence leave us thirsty and wanting, while those deep stretches of soulful effort yield a great, quenching richness.

Being careful not to lapse into self-flagellation, the artist (or for that matter any professional) must be brutally critical with themselves and their work.  That way, their audience does not suffer the asinine morass of unexamined expression.

You gotta put in the time.  Now the exact amount may change; talent, luck/providence, unexpected leaps in awareness-these factors can lengthen or shorten how long it takes to get to your goal.  But one, unchanging, simple fact remains:  You gotta put in the time.