Work that Matters

Most people want you to make something cheap, write something short, share something funny, and fit in.

But the people you serve… they might want something else.

The few people you need to thrive in your work might want you to write something they’ll remember for a long time, or to take then on a journey that’s thrilling and challenging and unique.

Or perhaps these are the people that want to buy something that costs a lot but is worth more than it costs.

It’s okay to say, “it’s not for you,” to most people.

In fact, that’s the only way to do work that matters.

Seth Godin

These words landed in my inbox a few weeks ago, and I've been reflecting on them. I think it's worth noting to begin with that Godin makes a distinction between what he calls the work and the job. Here is how he puts it: The job is what you do when you are told what to do. The job is showing up at the factory, following instructions, meeting spec, and being managed...Your art is what you do when no one can tell you exactly how to do it. Your art is the act of taking personal responsibility, challenging the status quo, and changing people. I call the process of doing your art 'the work.' It's possible to have a job and do the work, too. (The Linchpin: Are You Indispensable?)

I ask myself, "How do I determine what is my work that matters?" A wheel comes to mind, the old, wooden wagon kind, with sturdy spokes radiating out from the central hub. I think of the spokes as my skills and capacities, including the ability to write and articulate ideas, some facility with technology which enables me to put my words out into the world. But these do not give any shape to the work, any real clarity. For that I must go to the hub, to the question of what it is that I care about, deeply enough that I want to use my abilities to express it. Conviction, passion, curiosity - these are essential if the wheel is to cover any sustained distance. This is what will keep me coming back to my creative work, and what will give it integrity.

I know what this central conviction is; it's one I talk about often. I believe that at heart the world is filled with beauty and goodness, in spite of all the broken, ugly and painful realities that surround us. I seek with my words (and those of others) to offer a respite from the relentless onslaught of news, entertainment and our own experiences with the sometimes difficult realities of life. I don't want to become a Pollyanna or refuse to acknowledge the fullness and complexity of life. But I want to remind myself that beneath all of that complexity lies what Wendell Berry so beautifully calls the grace of the world.

I want to open myself to the world, to trust that I am held by the grace Berry speaks of. So I send out posts; I paint and sketch; I work in my garden; I read. I make time to notice the way the light falls on the roses gifted me yesterday by a friend, or the sound of the robins in the apricot tree. And I wish you a week in which you (again in the words of Berry) can say: I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

With appreciation,

Carri.

P.S. I have a new post up at my Substack newsletter focused on wellbeing, CK Therapeutic Reflexology, in which I reflect on an epiphany I had. You can find that here.