Know that every deed counts, that every word is power… Above all, remember that you must build your life as if it were a work of art. –Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
We all have expectations – ask any optimist or pessimist. Expectations are rooted in our ability to imagine (some would say ‘visualize’), in our past experiences, in our hopes and fears, in our perceptions and in the metaphors we use to make sense of the/our world. Given these tap roots – and others that I have not mentioned – it is easy for us to move our expectations into the land of fantasy. I remember that more than fifty-four years ago I participated in a ‘Creative Writing’ course. The professor was inviting us to focus on our craft and yet a number in the room kept moving us to a discussion about ‘publishing our work.’ Their imagination had shifted to a fantasy land. Their expectations shifted from ‘writing’ to ‘royalties.’ Consider, Gentle Reader that expectations rooted in illusion tend to lead us to an experience rooted in fantasy.
On the other hand, expectations rooted in the work itself become the useful tools the art-maker possesses. In other words, what we need to know about our next work is contained within our past work. For example, for the writer the place to learn about execution is in execution; the best information about what you love is rooted in your last contact with the work you love. Our work itself is our guide, our teacher, our mentor. As long as we work our work we have a never-ending reference book to help us.
By-the-by Gentle Reader, this reference book is ours alone. Think about it. We have at our disposal a great reference book and no one else has access to it; it is ours alone. Our work teaches us about our work; it teaches us about our methods; it teaches about our disciplines (or lack of them); it teaches us about our potentials; it teaches us about our strengths and it informs us as to our growing edges. The questions of course: Are we open to perceiving? Are we open to learning? Are we truly educable? Are we committed searchers, seekers and learners?
The lessons I am meant to learn are contained within my work. Am I willing to look closely and clearly – without the judgment that cripples and without the fear that stifles and blocks and without wishes and hopes. Try asking your work what it needs – not what you need. Then stop, step-back and listen. Listen intently and receptively. Listen as you want to be listened to. Listen as the good parent does to the searching and seeking child. With this type of listening the teacher will speak; our inner guide will step forth onto the stage and speak. Will we be able to ‘hear’? Ah, Gentle Reader, that is one question indeed.
I would like finally to advise you to grow through your development quietly and seriously… You can interrupt it in no more violent manner than by looking outwards and expecting answers from outside to questions which only your inner most feelings in your most silent hour can answer. –Rainer Maria Rilke