Yesterday at the gym I found myself watching figure skating on one of the big TVs there. I happened to be watching while a male skater apparently gave the performance of a lifetime, leaving him weeping with joy, beaming, the audience on its feet. I was reminded of the 10 or so times in my life when I have really been swept away by a play – specifically, of the moment during curtain call when I get this stab of jealousy and longing as I watch the actors taking in the applause. In these moments I am struck by the immediacy of their accomplishment, and I long for a life lived on that level.
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that I believe the value of creativity lies in the practice of creativity itself, not in the end product. For example, I believe writing is a way of communing with the world and with yourself, and its value is not dependent on getting published or winning awards. I think too many people abstain from creativity because they’re afraid the end product won’t be good enough, and this robs them of the joy and fulfillment that comes from the practice of creativity itself.
But still – to have a moment of glory in a lifetime, when for just one second, everything comes together, and you’re moved to tears even by the sense of artistic accomplishment – I confess that I covet such a moment. One of my favorite quotes is about finding the place where your passion intersects with the world’s deep needs. Imagine feeling the power of that intersection in a flash.
I envy the people who have clarity on how they want to contribute to the world – versus the general stirring I feel to contribute in some way. It seems easier to have one clear passion, one clear goal. When I feel this impatience, I remind myself of the Rainer Marie Rilke quote about having patience with the questions in life – trusting that by living mindfully, I’ll live my way into the answers. I believe that. But still – when I witness a moment like the one this figure skater so clearly experienced, all reason falls away, and I am full of longing. Suddenly it’s not enough – “it,” this business of daily living, all the “stuff” that gets between me and the art that I know on some deep level I have the potential to create.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
You totally just went all Whitney Houston on us there. :)
There’s a danger in that kind of clarity you’re talking about, the singular passion. Visionaries often having trouble living the world beyond their vision. The effort involved in shaping the world often requires you to shut out the rest of the world. The figure skater in question here has probably spent 10 or more hours a day, every day since he was a child to accomplish what you saw. That is a clarity of vision. But at what a cost.
Living a full life requires balance. Fulfilling a vision requires intense focus. I won’t go as far as to say the two are mutually exclusive, but they’re difficult to mix.
What makes the glory you’re talking about so majestic is its very inattainability. 99.44% of us don’t have the drive or discipline to get to that level, and none but a handful of us have the ability to sustain that level.
Part of the joy of “enjoying the journey” is that you get to have a bunch of journies. You may not leave the same legacy as someone who takes a single journey, buy everyone gets to choose their own path.
damnit, john for stealing my “one moment in time” thought.
it’s completely natural to want to have your creations produce a whitney houston moment for you. my God! you put YOURSELF into that product and for as much as you create for the love of creating, to have a knowing audience laud you for your product (not just your efforts) can be nothing less than gratifying to the core, because on some level, they’re lauding YOU.
i have to imagine that for folks who have those moments, or who find an appreciative and sustaining audience, it must be a little like falling in love. you live your life wondering, but not counting on it, and then when it does happen it’s like, “holy shit! you guys dig me for my voice! how lucky am i?”
ps. word verification for this comment is “essxcpen.” it makes me think it’s telling me, “essex seeping.”
I should add that as the biggest high school rock stars that Rockville, MD had to offer, Jordan and I received this kind of adulation on a near constant basis, leading to the now empty lives we suffer attempting to capture past glories while further sinking into the drunken reality that is the mind-numbing routine of our day to day existence.
Or maybe that’s just me.
The only thing that keeps me going is my love for run-on sentences.
I honestly don’t think it’s an approving audience I’m after, so much as my own sense of accomplishment…I’m not saying that to sound impressive, but for example, audiences laugh at a lot of improv shows that I don’t think are that great. I’ve had shows that have gotten less audience response but that make me feel high, however briefly, because for a moment I was in the zone – really, the language of addiction is very relevant here, because I think that’s what it is…wanting that high that can come from improv, but to have it tied to something that is a more deliberate expression, something that comes from deeper inside me and says something more meaningful to me. I don’t know if it’s acting or writing or what, but sometimes I feel almost haunted by this undefinable art I want to create. That sounds really hyperbolic but I’m being completely honest. I usually try to keep all this in check, chalking it up to ego, refocusing on the process and the journey… but the impatience always resurfaces…
eh. then maybe i misunderstood. :)