“Once you decide on your occupation... you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That's the secret of success...” – Jiro Ono (Jiro Dreams of Sushi)
* * *
For the past two months, my wife and I have been traveling around South East Asia.
We’ve spent the majority of our time in Indonesia, with a one-off stop in Singapore for a long weekend (flights were $9 and we needed to renew our Indonesian visas, so it was a no-brainer).
Toward the end of our time in Indonesia, we made a trip to the Gili Islands, just off the coast of Lombok.
There are three Gili Islands – Gili Trawangan (Gili T for short), Gili Mano and Gili Air.
Each island has its own unique atmosphere (Gili T is more party, Gili Mano is basically undeveloped, and Gili Air is that quiet middle ground, more suited for honeymooners or people who prefer less crowded locations but all the essential amenities one might need while visiting an island paradise - like Wi-Fi).
We decided to spend the majority of our time on Gili Air.
I knew this place was different the moment our wooden boat floated up to its sand and coral beaches.
Unlike most Indonesian cities (and most SE Asian cities for that matter), instead of being greeted by hundreds of taxi cab drivers looking to take all our money (we stand out here), we saw a dozen horse drawn carriages lining the street with not a single moped in sight (again, for SE Asia, this is bizarre).
Courtney and I had done our research, though – Gili Air is only a few square kilometers, meaning everything is in walking distance.
So we started walking.
We had no set plans or booked reservations – we normally wing our travel and this was no exception.
As we walked along the half-cobble, half-sand roads, we were greeted with the standard set of Indonesian idiosyncrasies (smiles, laughter, offers for a place to stay or eat, and lots of ‘mista’ and ‘boss’ thrown into their sentences for good measure), and passed by dozens of independently owned and operated shops.
One shop in particular caught my attention.
- How do you NOT stop here? -
A little hut, just off the side of the main road (there’s really only one main road in Gili Air), with a sign that read:
Gili Air Artshop Made to Order. Looking is for Free, Smile Included.
But it wasn’t the warm, inviting sign that drew me in; it was the man sitting outside the shop, hacking away at a coconut that did.
His name is Nin.
Nin is an artist. He carves, paints, and constructs things from wood and other natural materials. Today, he is carving a necklace out of a coconut.
Watch him work for just a few minutes and you realize a few things:
1. Nin is a professional. This is his life. It’s what he does every day for hours a day. His craftsmanship shows.
2. Nin is an artisan. He works with his hands to bring his vision to life. And he’s skilled at it.
3. Nin’s workshop is sustainable in the perfect sense of the word. He uses discarded wood and coconuts to make his art. This isn’t for marketing purposes – it’s out of necessity.
Naturally, I had to buy something from Nin.
- Nin hard at work -
He charged me 200,000 Rupiah for a coconut necklace.
As a point of reference, that’s less than $20 US. As another point of reference, that’s more than it cost for one night on our beach front bungalow, and about 2 times as much as dinner for two at a high end restaurant on the island.
Depending on how you view it, it might seem like I got ripped off. Relative to prices on the island, 200,000 Rupiah is quite a bit of money. And I never bartered (something you’re supposed to do in Indonesia).
Of course, after watching him work, I didn’t want to.
He spent three days carving this necklace from a coconut shell. Every day, I watched his progress, forming something from (essentially) nothing.
When it was finished, I wondered if 200,000 Rupiah was too little.
I tell this story for a reason.
First, to point out that artisanship still exists. All over the world. And many people just like me are willing to pay a premium for it.
And second, to beg the question:
In the beginning of this essay, I quoted Jiro Ono, a sushi chef made famous from a little documentary called Jiro Dreams of Sushi.
Jiro’s an artisan.
He lives and breathes the perfect sushi dish. He’s been doing it every day for over 70 years and will continue until he physically can’t.
Jiro charges over $300 a meal.
He does because he can - because people want to see a master artist at work.
We’re naturally drawn toward those who perfect their craft, who’ve weathered the inner creative battle for decades and come out on top. And we’re happy to pay a premium just to be in their presence (Jiro’s sushi shop is booked months in advance).
Again, this might solidify the idea that artisanship only exists in the physical realm…
Until I think about how I heard of Jiro.
I’ve never met Jiro in person, nor been to his sushi restaurant.
It was a documentary – a digital download - that brought his work to my attention. It was this medley of pixels, gigabytes and high resolution that shined a light on his work and his philosophy.
The digital world made this message possible to spread.
And no other medium could have delivered the message with more impact.
As entrepreneurs, creators and instigators in the 21st century, a very big part of what we do is online.
Yet instead of killing off what is left of artisanship, I honestly believe it’s helping to grow and expand the roll of the artisan (just listen to some of the interviews I've done with true digital artisans like AJ Leon and Dan Adams, among others) .
The artisan storyteller; the artisan craftsman (online and off); the artisan message spreader...
The roll of the artisan is expanding.
The question isn’t one of accessibility or ‘how’ – anyone can be one if they choose.
The question is: are you willing to put in the hours, days, and years (and the sweat, blood, and tears) to create the perfect product or service for the people who matter - the ones who want to hear from you?
My advice?
Start today - before you're ready.
Because we’re waiting.
And we’re willing to pay a premium.
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Started in Gili Air; thrashed in Sydney; finished and shipped in Perth, Australia (while listening to the song Perth by Bon Iver)
Total Writing Time: 3 hours and 8 minutes
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For the past two months my wife and I have been vagabonding through New Zealand.
Vagabonding is probably the best word for it – the majority of the time we’ve been living out of our backpack and a tiny red hatchback (The Getzya!).
The first weekend here, we rented a car (buses are too expensive and a car would give us more flexibility). Since then, we’ve managed to see more of New Zealand than most New Zealanders (we’re very curious and we don’t waste time).
We started in Auckland in the north (of the north island) and made it all the way to Queenstown in the south (of the south island), stopping along the way to see rocky, windswept coastlines, majestic waterfalls (lots of waterfalls), surreal-looking giant trees, and a never-ending supply of sheep grazing on rolling, green hills.
In a very nerdy way, it reminded me of the Nintendo game Zelda come to life (although there were no boss battles or treasure chests in the caves here).
Our time here has come to an end, but it’s been an incredible ride with just enough misadventures to keep it interesting the whole time.
But the point of this essay isn’t to gush about New Zealand (although, if you have a chance, definitely go visit), nor is it to brag (can you really brag if you’ve been living out of a car?).
The point of this essay is to tell you a story of a couple people whose work has impacted millions (including many reading this, I’d suspect), yet few of us even directly recognize their contribution…
***
Our last stop in the north island of New Zealand took us to the windy city of Wellington (they call Chicago the windy city in the States – it doesn’t come close to Wellington, where some days the wind could actually knock you over).
While there, we did what we always do in a new city: go for explorative runs, conduct hands-on research of the craft-beer scene and wander wherever we feel compelled to go.
One of those daily wanders led us Weta Digital.
Weta is the company responsible for the visual effects for The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. From makeup, to costumes, to set design, to digital FX – Weta created it all.
Based on the record-setting box-office numbers and gluttony of awards they won, they obviously killed it. They brought Tolken’s Middle Earth to life, convincing the die-hards that a well-produced film could do the books justice, and convincing the masses that some fantasy stories are worth hearing (even if it means sitting down for over 3 hours to do so).
But what’s even more remarkable is that they did all this under seemingly impossible circumstances: Weta hadn’t officially been around for 10 years before Peter Jackson picked them for the project, and they didn’t do just one film, they had to do all 3 at once.
There’s no good reason they should have succeeded, but they did.
***
Of course, if this is where the story ends, where you close the browser and say got it, you miss the point entirely.
Weta’s story didn’t start with multiple studies, hundreds of employees and this extremely complex, multi-faceted, million-dollar blockbuster project.
It started as an unreasonable idea in the back room of Richard Taylor and Tania Rodger’s cramped flat in 1987.
It started as the kind of idea your peers would tell you to forget about (for your own good, of course), so you can spend more time making time-and-a-half and watching football.
It started as the type of idea that usually goes nowhere, so why waste your time?
It started as an idea that’s for kids and dreamers, not adults.
Lucky for us, Richard and Tonia didn’t care. Instead, they kept doing the odd thing, the childish thing, the unreasonable thing…
With each small project, they pushed the boundaries of their own creativity. They put their blood, sweat and tears into every creation, beyond any reasonable expectation of repayment. And with each new film, they improved, honed and sharpened their skill-set.
They also formed relationships that lasted.
They got their first major film gig in 1989. Their job: to create bizarre-looking muppets for an even more bizarre black comedy. The guy directing was a local to Wellington as well: Peter Jackson.
4 years later, they joined with Peter to expand their film effects company (RT Effects at the time) and formed what is now Weta Digital.
7 years after that, they got their big break: the opportunity to work on The Lord of the Rings.
Since then, they’ve worked on dozens of blockbusters, from Iron Man 3, to District 9 to the new Hobbit movies, and expanded into a total of 5 studios running the gamut of film production (from pre through post production).
***
There are at least a dozen good lessons to take from this story, but I’ll leave you with just one:
Life is for the unreasonable.
This goes for everyone and everything.
Your existence on this planet, in and of itself, is unreasonable. The chances of you being here, right now, just as you are – they’re so slim as to be non-existent. There is no random chance here.
Yet so many squander this gift by waiting, letting others go first, and favoring the safe and secure bet.
Richard and Tonia didn’t wait. They didn’t let someone else create the studio they dreamt up. And they certainly didn’t favor safety or security.
They were completely unreasonable.
And those who love their work and feel their impact are better off for it.
***
Of course, you’ve probably never heard of Richard and Tonia, unless you’re a huge LOTR fan. Most of us enjoyed the movies and might recognize a few of the actors and maybe the director - that’s about it.
So what’s in it for them if the masses of people don’t even recognize their contribution?
And what's in it for the rest of us if no one notices what we do?
I’m not sure what Richard or Tonia would say about this (I’ve yet to interview them for In the Trenches), but I know what one of Tolkien's characters would say:
"There may come a time for valor without renown." - Aragorn
Don't wait.
Be unreasonable.
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Started, finished and shipped at The Sprocket Roaster in Newcastle, Australia. Fuel: double espresso. Soundtrack: Bon Iver
Total writing time: 5 hours
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p.s. want an unreasonable way to sell your products or services? Check out my book: The Complete Guide to Pay What You Want Pricing. It might just change the way you approach your business, art and writing forever.
Finally, it was over.
For the past four years, John fought the inner creative war…
Four years of writing, editing, cutting, scrapping and starting from scratch…
Four years of uncertainty, doubt and fear…
Four years of painful creative struggle – the kind only a fiction author can truly appreciate…
But in February, the war was over – John had finished his manuscript. He had won. He could relax and breathe a sigh of relief.
All that remained was sending it to a publisher.
That’s the easy part, though, right?
John packed up the manuscript and sent it to a publisher – Simon and Shuster.
The manuscript eventually made its way to a senior editor - Robert Gottlieb. This was a big deal. Robert was responsible for discovering and editing then-unknown Joseph Heller’s Catch 22. He obviously recognized talent and knew how to edit a book.
If John’s manuscript had even a hint of value, Robert would find it.
John’s manuscript didn’t make the cut.
At least not the first iteration.
Robert asked John to try again.
John tried again.
Again, his manuscript was returned.
Robert admitted John had talent – he was certainly a capable author…but his book didn’t have a point. And you can’t publish a book that doesn’t have a point. Robert asked John to submit another rewrite.
Over the next two years, John struggled to rewrite a book he had poured his heart and soul into.
Yet no matter what he did, the book never made the cut.
John threw the manuscript aside and tried working on a new novel, but his heart wasn’t in it.
At the encouragement of his mother, John attempted to submit his manuscript to a new publisher. It had now been close to three years since he had finished the original manuscript. With renewed optimism, John tried again.
His manuscript was rejected.
John had put everything into this novel. The characters were pieces of himself. When publishers rejected his manuscript, they were, in effect, rejecting John.
The personal rejection was devastating.
This final rejection set into motion a downward spiral of depression – a hopeless and miserable depression that lasted for two years before John couldn’t take it anymore.
In March 1969, John Kennedy Toole took his own life.
As some of you may know, this is the heartbreaking true story of author John Kennedy Toole and the ill-fated tail of his posthumously awarded, Pulitzer Prize-winning book A Confederacy of Dunces.
During his lifetime, John’s manuscript wasn’t given the time of day. Publishers didn’t like it. It was a book that was seemingly about nothing.
A book like that can’t be published, can it?
It wasn’t until years later, after John’s mom went on a personal crusade to get the manuscript published, that it caught the attention of Walker Percy and, in 1980 - 15 year (!) after John had finished the original manuscript - the book was published.
Think about that.
15 YEARS.
It took 15 years before a big publisher recognized the value in this book. 15 years before John’s incredible story was brought to the masses. 15 years before the rest of us got to experience the brilliance that was Ignatius Reilly’s misadventures in New Orleans…
15 years…
11 too late to save John’s life.
This story isn’t meant to point out the failure of traditional publishers – we already know the model is broken.
No one can see value in what a creator "creates" quite like the creator himself (or his happy readers). This is a given.
Nor is this story meant to vilify traditional publishing – we already know their job is to make money.
If a book doesn’t have a point, how do you market it? If it can’t be marketed, how do you sell it? If you can’t sell it, and that's your job, you move onto a book you can sell.
This story is meant simply to consider one question: if an author like John Kennedy Toole was living today, what would stop him from choosing himself?
Time and time again John was rejected…
A thousand times a day, creators – artists, inventors, and authors just like John 50 years ago - are being rejected by gatekeepers: publishers, producers, angel investors, whatever.
This made sense 50 years ago…but today?
Today, every single one of us has the means to be the publisher, the producer, and even the manufacturer.
We are the gatekeepers now. Not the film studio, not the publishing house, not the hedge fund – YOU. The only one stopping you from saying ‘go’ is yourself.
So tell me – what’s stopping you?
What’s keeping your manuscript from seeing the light of day? What’s keeping your movie from being created and distributed? What’s stopping your product from going into production?
I wish John was alive today – not only for his family and friend's sake but for the world’s sake.
He created great art. He wrote stories that mattered. I have no doubt he had more to give…
Today, there are thousands of talented creators just like John all around the world. People with talent, with value to add to others, with a story, product, or idea that deserves to see the light of day. They’ve probably been rejected a thousand times. And they may be rejected a thousand more.
My plea to those authors, designers, writers, entrepreneurs, warriors, and leaders:
1. Don’t give up. No matter how hard it gets, there’s a reason you’re here. There’s light at the end of every tunnel – if you can’t see it, it means you haven’t walked far enough. KEEP GOING!
2. Pick yourself. It feels good to get chosen by others. Getting picked is like a drug - and like a drug, it’s superficial, addictive, and fleeting. The "high" is destructive and anything but real. Be your own catalyst: pick yourself instead.
And if you need help with either of the above, leave a comment below.
You are NOT alone, no matter how dark things get.
I know it sounds clichéd or rehashed at this point, but please: don't give up and pick yourself...
You've probably heard it a dozen times and read the same points a thousand times in a thousand different varieties...
(But when life hangs in the balance - and, many times, it quite literally does - I’m not sure the point can ever be emphasized enough)
So here’s to John Kennedy Toole – a remarkable artist who was overlooked and who left us too soon.
And here’s to the unknown artist, in the trenches, day in and day out, creating work that matters – we look forward to seeing what you create when you choose yourself.
Sooner, rather than later.
Creative work is hard as hell.
If you’re a writer, entrepreneur, or anyone else challenging and pushing boundaries (read: instigator), you know what I’m talking about.
In fact, creative work is probably the hardest work there is – something only those bold enough to create can appreciate.
But what makes creative work so hard?
Doing creative work means we can fail at any point.
All the hard work we do this week, this month or this year could end up being for nothing. No reward. No payout. No bonus.
In the beginning, most bootstrappers work 80 hour weeks and make sweat shop wages. To make matters worse, the majority of startups fail. And for the aspiring writer? The landscape is even bleaker...
Creative work requires us to be on point every hour of every day.
If we’re not doing our best work, if we’re not going as hard as we can, if we’re not constantly pushing the boundaries, then we’re at risk of being overshadowed by someone who’s willing to hustle harder. The fear is this: any moment we fail to capitalize on is a moment that could have been our tipping point – the thing that allows us to break out of obscurity.
Worse yet, the only thing more exhausting than putting our mind, body and soul into a project, day after day, is the anxiety we experience from the thought of wasting time or losing ground...
For most of us, creating something from scratch requires long periods of time devoted to working in solitude.
This requires a great deal of self-imposed isolation – something that inevitably becomes lonely over a period of time. This isolation is made even more painful when the few times we do interact with other people they don’t “get” what we’re doing.
The only thing lonelier than working in isolation is working beside people who don’t get what you’re doing.
Face it, if you do creative work, at some point the uncertainty, exhaustion and loneliness will make you want to quit.
I can’t tell you how many times a week (a day?) I want to throw in the towel and walk away.
This is the inner creative war we each have to fight if we want to do great work.
It’s at times like this, when things get darkest, you need to remember what's important.
The rest of the world probably won’t get why you do what you do.
But you didn't do it for them, did you?
Do the work. Do YOUR work. And do it for the happy few who want what you create.
Serve those people.
Ignore everyone else.
They're not worth a second of your time anyway.
Creative work is hard...
But here's the thing: life is hard.
Any course of action you choose in life will be hard - hard because you chose to enter the trenches, fight the creative fight, and do work that matters, or hard because you chose to avoid the trenches, insolate yourself from challenging, impactful work, and accept what life throws at you.
I'm sorry, but there's no happy medium, no painless compromise.
These are the only two options.
So what will you choose?
Call me a ruffian, but I'll choose the former.
I hope you do the same.
New to the blog? Join the Resistance and join me and an army of creative ruffians (artists, entrepreneurs and all around instigators) doing important work. Never fight along - join the Resistance.
Do you really need more money in your bank account before you can create something worthwhile?
Do you really need to develop a routine before you can start making something great?
Do you really need more time in the day before you can dare boldly?
Or is it possible that you can create something worthwhile regardless of the number of zeros in your checking account; or that by making something great you create the routine you need; or that just maybe ‘no time’ is precisely the right time to dare boldly…
Writing a book, building a business, creating something without permission – these things are hard to do and they’re plagued with setbacks and failure.
Of course, the enemy knows this and uses it against us. Excuses are just another tactic used by the enemy to stop us from creating our life’s work.
But like anything the enemy throws at us, we can overcome it.
We can prepare ourselves by recognizing these universal truths of creation:
I promise you this – there are a million reasons you shouldn’t start today, why tomorrow works/feels/seems better – but none of these reasons matter. They don’t keep you from doing the work: you do.
With a simple choice, right now, you delay building your worthwhile project.
Or, with the same simple choice, right now, you begin building your empire.
The choice is yours every day.
There will never be a perfect time, place, or set of companions for you to begin your journey.
There will always be mountains to climb, swamps to traverse and dragons to slay.
This isn’t a reason not to start, it’s the reason you MUST start - otherwise there is no journey, no hero, and no story worth telling.
The crazy reality of life is this: it isn’t training. This isn’t a sparring competition getting you ready for the actual fight.
This is it.
This is the real thing. This is the main event. You were born into it. You have one life to live - no do overs, no second chances.
So you have a choice: fight like hell or throw the match.
Either way, you’re going to take a hit (many hits, actually).
While it might seem like throwing the match, which requires less of your energy and strength up front, is the easier choice, the fact is this: you’re going to take way more hits throwing the match than if you stand your ground, keep your gloves up, and hit back.
And I’m sorry to say but opting out to spectate or referee isn’t an option. You might not like it, but that’s the reality.
So how will you fight?
Is by starting.
Start right now. Not tomorrow, not next week - right now.
Now is the best time for you to start; now is the best place for you to begin your journey; now is the best way for you to climb the mountain and slay your dragon.
It’s not easy, but let’s be honest: would you have it any other way?
Good luck and keep fighting.
Every act of artistic creation (business, blog, book or otherwise) begins in the mind.
They begin as acts of love (we care about our ideas) and defiance (challenging what is with what could be).
But being inside your own mind isn’t a pretty thing. It’s nasty in there; what is right seems wrong; up is down; and every course of action can be rationalized (adding to the frustration).
Struggling with a creative puzzle or wrestling with a conceptual problem is brutal.
It challenges your skill; do you have the ability to bring this vision to life?
It challenges your character; do you have the fortitude – the grit – to take it all the way?
It challenges your belief in yourself; can you keep working toward an elusive goal, even when nothing pans out for weeks, months or years?
Do you really have what it takes to fight these creative battles, day in and day out?
And if the answer is YES to all of those questions, are you sure you’re not just lying to yourself?
These are the internal battles of someone trying to do something new, of someone building something from scratch, of the person creating something unique, not because he was told, but because he chose.
It’s not reserved just for writers (experienced as writers block) or entrepreneurs (experienced as failure to launch), but for every single person who stands up and challenges the group; who leaves the tribal boundaries; who demands self-determination, regardless of the consequences.
It’s a battle waged by artists and inventors; by builders and breakers; by warriors and leaders.
It’s a war fought by those brave enough to question, challenge, and try.
And like any war, there will be casualties: your dreams may not become reality, your goals might not pan out, and your projects might fail.
It’s difficult, it’s unforgiving, and it’s (often) unfair.
When I characterize creation as an act of war, I mean it.
And yet some of us still feel compelled to create, even with this guarantee of discomfort.
Perhaps it’s because we expect the discomfort will fade when we “make it.” And it might.
Or perhaps it’s because we believe the reward at the end will outweigh the pain of the process. And this might be true.
Or perhaps we have no other option because the discomfort of not creating is more painful and terrifying than the possibility of trying and failing. And this is probably the case.
Regardless the reason, the fact that some still want to create, still need to create, is what matters; because these are the people who will create.
Winning the creative war isn’t a matter of how. For the creator, it’s a matter of when.
Oddly enough, that is exactly how you win.
It ain't about how hard you hit, it's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much can you take and keep moving forward? That's how winning is done. [Rocky Balboa]
p.s. are you fighting the creative war right now? Share with us in the comments below what you're creating and where you've found success (or how you've dealt with failure).
This is part 2 of a 3 part series explaining the Enemy (the thing stopping us from creating our epic work). You can read part one here. If you are new, read my new book: The Art of Instigating; this article will make more sense, I promise.
In the first part of this series, I explained the conventional forces of the Enemy: the Army of Bad Habits (the accumulation of years of individual actions, repeated daily and consistently).
Fighting the Army of Bad Habits isn’t easy, but it’s also the simplest to understand and identify.
The unconventional force of the Enemy is much harder to understand and identify.
The Enemy’s unconventional force is one that uses subterfuge to confuse us into giving up on a project right at the start, or bailing on our project near the end.
It gets us when and where we’re weakest.
The Enemy’s unconventional force is negative self-talk propaganda.
“Negative self-talk propaganda is all the terrible, unproductive, fruitless, worthless, silly things we say to ourselves when we’re building something worthwhile.” [Tom’s Blog]
Self-talk originates in the rational part of our brain (the left side of the brain; although exactly where our rational thoughts come from is still being debated and a topic for another post).
These thoughts are negative because they don’t help you create anything.
Negative self-talk propaganda will rationalize why you shouldn't do anything inventive, productive, or creative for as long as you live.
And, in fact, negative self-talk propaganda will try its hardest to out-rationalize your positive, ambitious side by explaining why anything you decide to create will fail; why anything you long to build will just enter the abyss of unsuccessful; why no matter how hard you try, it will all be in vain.
If you’re hoping for a rational reason why you should instigate, you might as well stop looking, stop instigating, and start following orders, instructions, and rules.
There is nothing rational about building your empire or creating something from scratch and without permission (or at least nothing to out-rationalize why you SHOULDN’T do these things).
The negative self-talk propaganda in your head is very, very good at rationalization; its entire existence is based on subterfuge and undermining your productive thoughts.
It’s propaganda because we've learned, over time, what society (school, family, work, etc.) thinks we should do, and those memories affect and change our internal monologue.
This propaganda is the negative things we say to ourselves as we try to build something epic, something we've seen others do but we know we can do better, or something unique but we’re not sure how others might take it.
It’s propaganda because it’s not true.
Anything you thought could be done can be done.
Anything you think you could do better can be done better.
Anything unique you want to bring to the world deserves to be brought into existence.
Negative self-talk propaganda can’t be destroyed; it can’t be killed and buried like we all wish it could.
It exists, and we have to deal with it every day for as long as we live – no amount of therapy will get rid of it.
The way to deal with negative self-talk propaganda is simple:
Negative self-talk propaganda HATES when we take our lives into our own hands, develop our goals, and ship them to the market.
It hates it because it can’t do anything about the persistent effort we give to a singular endeavor.
If you think you should quit, if you think it might not work, if you think it’s stupid…do it anyway.
Go to work.
You’ll find (very quickly) the negative self-talk propaganda fades….
At least for a time.
As with everything worth doing, the Enemy will always be there to try and break us down.
Don’t let it.
Instigate your life’s work.
Continue reading Part 3: THE ENEMY DEFINED (PART 3: THE COMMANDING GENERAL OF THE ENEMY)
People complain about blue collar workers being out of work (they are), or finding a way to bring manufacturing back (you can’t), or some other way to revitalize our 20th century view of the middle-class.
Sorry, it's gone. It's not coming back.
In a crowded marketplace, fitting in is failing. In a busy marketplace, not standing out is the same as being invisible. – Seth Godin (Purple Cow)
Why would I hire someone for $10.00 an hour when I can outsource for $1.50 (and still receive comparable quality work)? When the only task I need accomplished is menial and brainless – a commodity – why would I pay a premium?
On the other hand, if that employee can move on his own, develop and execute his own plans, instigate and start projects, create and ship his own work - why wouldn't I pay a premium. Why wouldn't I pay top dollar for someone with the brains and courage to expand the brand, product or service on his own, with minimal guidance from upper management?
In the 20th century, the majority of workers made a compromise; they accepted minimal wages in exchange for brainless, consistent work. The offer was compelling – show up to a certain location, at a certain time, for a certain duration, day after day, and in exchange you don't have to think to earn a wage (and you might even get healthcare and a 401k).
The industrial age created a robot factory of average employees. The factory setting (and factory mentality) worked during the industrial age. It won’t work now.
Once again, those jobs aren't coming back (no amount of federal quantitative easing could fix that - and that only sets us up for some painful inflation down the road).
If all you offer is the commodity of your time, guess what? So do millions of people around the world.
There is no reason (for an employer OR the customer) to pay a premium for a commodity.
So what now?
Stand out, be disruptive, be someone who can connect the dots on their own and can start without guidance. The only way to thrive in the new economy is to be an instigator.
Here's the catch: We can't tell you how. If we could, we wouldn't need you.
p.s. if you like this article, you'll love my book: The Art of Instigating.