I’m writing a book and it’s taking me forever. I write what I think is good stuff and then my editor sends it back with all sorts of comments. Had I considered this? Or that? Can we make it deeper? More vulnerable? And back to my computer I go with new ideas and a box of tissues. (Getting deep and vulnerable can be a weepy experience.)
REcently I read about the three scientists who won the Pulitzer Prize in Physics. They recorded the sound of two black holes colliding. Do you know how long that took? Forty years! They plotted and planned. They built the observatory and the equipment they used for the recording. One thousand people helped them. It was a humbling, excruciating, and heart-wrenching experience. But for forty years, they went to work until they succeeded.
It takes so damn long to make good stuff because the work itself is the prize. The journey toward the finished product is more important than the finished product. That’s the truth. So if you’re out there like me, making good stuff, PLEASE show up and do your work.
It’s going to take a long damn time so don’t forget your tissues.