We’re Always Starting Over

“Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.

After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.”

– Zen proverb

 

 

I was scrolling through old photos on my phone the other day, when I found this screenshot I took of one of John Mayer’s Instagram stories back in 2021. 

 

 

To me, this is such a beautiful summary of most things in life, but especially of the creative process. Because practicing anything worthwhile inevitably involves starting over, again and again.

It doesn’t matter if we feel like we’ve beaten our brains out on our life’s work. We still have to show up again the next day and take on a blank page. We still have to experiment with new ideas and face the prospect of failure yet again. We still have to keep going.

This is true not only in creative endeavors. Take working out, for example. You’ve likely had the experience of really exerting yourself to the limit, as you put in that one last painful repetition, or run that one last block.

And deservedly so, you feel great after that. You feel proud of yourself. But then you remember that you have to go through the same process again the next time. 

This is what makes practicing our craft so difficult — torturous, even. But this is what makes it scarce and valuable, too. As author Seth Godin termed, this is “the dip” that weeds out the people who are really into their craft from the people who aren’t.

When you love what you do, you embrace the monotony of having to start again. This monotony is what makes your craft endlessly humbling and exciting anyway. You’re constantly learning new things, and there’s always that element of risk in that your ideas may not pan out as well as you imagine.

As a fan of the sitcom Seinfeld, I resonate a lot with Jerry Seinfeld’s story. He had enjoyed massive success with Seinfeld, but after its final episode aired in 1998, Jerry no longer knew what to do with his life. For a while, he felt like he had already reached his pinnacle of his accomplishments. He was facing a scary, uncertain future, while his best days were behind him, or so he felt.

After looking inward, he realized that his biggest sense of fulfillment came not from material success, but from the thrill of starting over. What he loved so much about his craft was showing up every day with the same routines, and tackling on the fresh and unique challenges that each practice would bring.

So, Jerry simply went back to the same routines that he had practiced since the start of his career. By day, he would write jokes in his yellow legal pad. As Jerry said, “I just see something and I write it down. I like a big, yellow legal pad — and once I get that pad open, I can’t stop…The next thing I know, the day is gone.” By night, he would perform stand-up at a comedy club. “I just love the life of it,” he said. “I love the joy of hearing laughs and making jokes.”

In one of his interviews, he was asked about how he had practiced these routines for decades at that point. To the interviewer, the routines seemed like “a tortured life.”

“It is,” Jerry admitted in response. “But you know what? Your blessing in life is when you find the torture you’re comfortable with. And that’s marriage. It’s kids. It’s work. It’s exercise. It’s not eating the food you want to eat. Find the torture you’re comfortable with, and you’ll do well.”

I know this much is true for me in managing this blog. Putting out an article may not seem like much on the outset, but really, it’s a lot of work — a product of hours upon hours of research and thought. And needless to say, doing this every week can be pretty challenging. Friday nights are typical in that I would collapse in bed dead-tired, after finally deciding that an article is good enough to be published later at midnight.

But still, I love the process — every bit of it. It’s torture at times, yes. But it’s torture that I love having. And every now and then, I’d come up with an article that I feel is the best I’ve ever written. But this sense of pride pales in comparison to the childlike joy I feel to write another article for the coming week. 

It’s like that Zen proverb, “Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.” The real reward is in the process itself — in the newness of every day and every practice. Enlightenment is just the inevitable by-product of showing up every day, being really into what you do, and savoring every step of the process.

To create is to start over, to ride in an endless loop of being a beginner, to being somewhat of an expert, and back to being a beginner. 

The creative process is really a recurring trip back to Stupidtown. But buckling up for the ride and enjoying it for what it is, is what makes all the difference in the world.