August Newsletter: The Value of Practice
So there I was, neck deep in the Aegean, watching the hills turn black and the sky gold. I slowly beat with my hands and feet, trying to stay still. Trying to relax.
I’ve had a hard time with vacations for a while now. Most days I get out of bed thinking “I have things I’m excited about doing” and I go to bed thinking “I accomplished something today.” That’s – well – it’s healthier than whipping myself into a frenzy of anxiety the way I used to, but let’s say there’s room for improvement. I manage well enough when I have projects to escape into, but on vacation, I tend to spend my time at the beach waiting for the chance to go back to my computer.
“How productive was I today? What did I accomplish?” I ask myself, while the time between accomplishments blurs into meaninglessness. Surely there are tasks, such as raising children, that shouldn’t be thought of as tasks. But what should they be instead?
That was the homework I gave myself on this vacation in Greece: find value in something other than productivity. I had just finished a draft of the particularly hairy Centuries Unlimited and I didn’t have any approaching deadlines, so why not experiment? I downloaded some fun books as well as books on religion, philosophy, and spirituality. I went to the beach with my family in the morning instead of using that time to write. I tried to draw, read, take it easy. And I felt the hunger building like the lack of some vital nutrient.
What had I accomplished, floating in the sea? What could I feel proud of? How could I get that rush of happiness that comes from praise?
Last year I wrote about my addiction to praise. I thought I’d broken it, but really what I did was learn how to praise myself. Fine. A good stop-gap solution, but I knew as I floated in the sea, day after day, that I needed something more substantial.
A seed in the air
It passes into shade and
Vanishes completely
I’ve been reconnecting with an old friend of mine, someone who’s also had a near-death experience in the last few years. We decided to read through The Confessions of Saint Augustine together, and one of the things that emerged from our discussion was what I’ll call “the value of practice.”
The biggest step forward I’ve made as an author was when I let go of the product of my work and focused on the practice of the work itself. Sitting down, opening my laptop, putting fingers to keys, and juggling words and images in my head. Yes, do that long enough, and a book will pop out, but the book isn’t the point. The practice of writing is valuable by itself. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.
My friend related his own memories of taking his daughter to the park. It was the same trip and the same park over and over day after day. But because of that sameness, events stood out. One time, they found a turtle. Without the practice of going to the park every day, my friend wouldn’t have had the frame to appreciate that turtle. Now that his daughter is in college, he looks back at that whole going-to-the-playground repetition as one of the greatest accomplishments of that part of his life.
A practice can be anything. Writing, going to the beach, doing your homework, cleaning your house. Take boredom as a sign that you’re open for inspiration. The practice itself has value. That’s what I’m reaching for.
Except for today. Today I stayed home and wrote this newsletter 
