Hey Reader,
My ‘guilty pleasure’ is self-help books. After a recent torrent of self-help consumption, I’ve recognized a pattern in myself: the pursuit of self-improvement is my most effective and insidious form of procrastination. Self-reflection makes me feel productive (my number one addiction) and it allows me to extend that blissful no man’s land between having an idea and actually starting a project. The space and time where the possibility of success is still delicious and the possibility of failure can be tucked away.
When I’m reading a tip for self-improvement, I get high off the imminent success laying behind the secret that is holding me back. Now that I know the secret, I can start doing it … right after I finish this book. Or actually, this other book is also touted as the key to success, so surely it will be even better if I use both for guidance? Once I finish both of them, I’ll be ready to achieve my dreams!
Not only do I get to steep in the possibility of an idea, but I also get that rush of self-righteousness when I am listening to one of these books and recognize my good behaviors on the pages. I can pat myself on the back without actually doing any work or putting myself at risk of failure.
Well, fast forward and suddenly months have passed me by and it feels like all I have to show for it is art that is feeling redundant, and a list of books I’ve consumed. All books about how to be an artist, none of which recommend long-form-scrolling through the self-help genre.
This is me recognizing that I’ve been spiritually (and literally) cleaning my room rather than implementing the things I’ve learned from those books.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of the work I’ve produced thus far, but I’ve also been feeling a bit stagnant. To combat that stagnation I picked up these books, and hunkered down into the warm embrace they folded around me.
Now it’s time to come to terms with the spookiest thing of this spooky season: in order for me to progress my artistic skills and self-expression, I will have to try to do things that scare me. It means making work that is objectively bad. It means that the difficulties I’ve already faced chasing this dream probably have not yet even scratched the surface of the difficulties that will come.
But then I remember what the books have taught me: time passes regardless of how you spend it. Forget “what would you do if you knew you would succeed?” The real question is “what would you do regardless of if you knew you would fail.”
Because here’s the thing, if you told me I will fail at being a professional artist, I would still choose to try.
So this month I’m trying to implement the suggestions of all of these books. I’m going to run the marathon, not the sprint (see Originals). I’m going to prioritize what’s important, rather than what’s urgent (see The War of Art). I’m going to keep my forms of procrastination productive (see Steal Like and Artist) and to allow myself rest and to be open to receiving inspiration (see The Artist Way). And most importantly, I’m going to meet indecision with action (see literally any of the books below).
Happiest of Halloweens,
Mal
P.S. While I recognize my hyper-consumption as what it is, I still whole-heartedly recommend each of these books. Even if you don’t think of yourself as an artist, you are human (I assume), and therefore hold creative power and desire within you.
My recent favorites in no particular order:
-The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
-Steal Like an Artist, Show Your Work, and Keep Going all by Austin Kleon
-Originals by Adam Grant
-The Artist Way by Julia Cameron (admittedly I haven’t finished this one, but I’m doing the steps of week one and loving the Morning Pages already)
-Art/Work: Everything You Need to Know (and Do) As You Pursue Your Art Career by Heather Darcy Bhandari and Jonathan Melber
-Tools by Phil Stutz
-12 Week Year by Brian P. Moran and Michael Lennington
