Corentin Derbré

Books:

The War of Art: Winning the Inner Creative Battle – Steven Pressfield

ISBN: 1936891026

Date read: 2016-04-12

How strongly I recommend it: 9/10

(See my list of books, for more.)

Go to the Amazon page for details and reviews.

In itself it's a good read. But the best is the idea of identifying resistance as it takes many shapes when trying to reach a goal. This is the first step of being able to push trough it. I often think about this concept when facing hardships.

my notes

To begin Book One, Pressfield labels the enemy of creativity Resistance, his all-encompassing term for what Freud called the Death Wish—that destructive force inside human nature that rises whenever we consider a tough, long-term course of action that might do for us or others something that’s actually good.

Preparation, order, patience, endurance, acting in the face of fear and failure—no excuses, no bullshit. Always, the professional focuses on mastery of the craft.

All that matters is I’ve put in my time and hit it with all I’ve got.

The enemy is a very good teacher. —the Dalai Lama

We can navigate by Resistance, letting it guide us to that calling or action that we must follow before all others. Rule of thumb: The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.

The danger is greatest when the finish line is in sight. At this point, Resistance knows we’re about to beat it. It hits the panic button. It marshals one last assault and slams us with everything it’s got.

Sometimes Resistance takes the form of an obsessive preoccupation with sex. It goes without saying that this principle applies to drugs, shopping, masturbation, TV, gossip, alcohol, and the consumption of all products containing fat, sugar, salt, or chocolate.

The working artist will not tolerate trouble in her life because she knows trouble prevents her from doing her work.

Attention Deficit Disorder, Seasonal Affect Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder. These aren’t diseases, they’re marketing ploys. Doctors didn’t discover them, copywriters did. Marketing departments did. Drug companies did.

But is it love? If we’re the supporting partner, shouldn’t we face our own failure to pursue our unlived life, rather than hitchhike on our spouse’s coattails? And if we’re the supported partner, shouldn’t we step out from the glow of our loved one’s adoration and instead encourage him to let his own light shine?

What does Resistance feel like? First, unhappiness.

Certainly I wouldn’t be writing this book, on this subject, if living with freedom were easy. The paradox seems to be, as Socrates demonstrated long ago, that the truly free individual is free only to the extent of his own self-mastery. While those who will not govern themselves are condemned to find masters to govern over them.

Individuals who are realized in their own lives almost never criticize others.

The more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul.

The professional tackles the project that will make him stretch. He takes on the assignment that will bear him into uncharted waters, compel him to explore unconscious parts of himself. Is he scared? Hell, yes. He’s petrified. (Conversely, the professional turns down roles that he’s done before. He’s not afraid of them anymore. Why waste his time?)

The athlete knows the day will never come when he wakes up pain-free. He has to play hurt.

What counted was that I had, after years of running from it, actually sat down and done my work.

P.S. When your deeper Self delivers a dream like that, don’t talk about it. Don’t dilute its power. The dream is for you. It’s between you and your Muse. Shut up and use it.

Instead of showing us our fear (which might shame us and impel us to do our work), Resistance presents us with a series of plausible, rational justifications for why we shouldn’t do our work.

It is one thing to study war and another to live the warrior’s life. —Telamon of Arcadia, mercenary of the fifth century B.C.

The professional loves it so much he dedicates his life to it. He commits full-time.

Someone once asked Somerset Maugham if he wrote on a schedule or only when struck by inspiration. “I write only when inspiration strikes,” he replied. “Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp. That’s a pro.

I wake up with a gnawing sensation of dissatisfaction. I know I can indulge in daily crap for a little while, but I must cut it off when the bell rings. I’m keenly aware of the Principle of Priority, which states (a) you must know the difference between what is urgent and what is important, and (b) you must do what’s important first. What’s important is the work. That’s the game I have to suit up for. That’s the field on which I have to leave everything I’ve got. I’m happy; I’ve earned my keep on the planet, at least for this day. I go to sleep content, but my final thought is of Resistance. I will wake up with it tomorrow. Already I am steeling myself.

Marines love to be miserable. Marines derive a perverse satisfaction from having colder chow, crappier equipment, and higher casualty rates than any outfit of dogfaces, swab jockeys or flyboys, all of whom they despise. Why? Because these candy-asses don’t know how to be miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.

The qualities that define us as professionals? 1) We show up every day. 2) We show up no matter what. 3) We stay on the job all day. Our minds may wander, but our bodies remain at the wheel. 6) We accept remuneration for our labor. We’re not here for fun. We work for money. 7) We do not overidentify with our jobs.We may take pride in our work, we may stay late and come in on weekends, but we recognize that we are not our job descriptions. The amateur, on the other hand, overidentifies with his avocation, his artistic aspiration. He defines himself by it. 8) We master the technique of our jobs. 9) We have a sense of humor about our jobs. 10) We recieve praise or blame in the real world.

The professional, though he accepts money, does his work out of love.

The payoff is that playing the game for money produces the proper professional attitude. It inculcates the lunch-pail mentality, the hard-core, hard-head, hard-hat state of mind that shows up for work despite rain or snow or dark of night and slugs it out day after day.

Resistance gets us to plunge into a project with an overambitious and unrealistic timetable for its completion.

The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it’s a novel or a kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. He accepts that. He recognizes it as reality.

The professional cannot live like that. He is on a mission. He will not tolerate disorder. He eliminates chaos from his world in order to banish it from his mind.

She understands that all creative endeavor is holy, but she doesn’t dwell on it. The sign of the amateur is overglorification of and preoccupation with the mystery. The professional shuts up. She doesn’t talk about it. She does her work.

The amateur believes he must first overcome his fear; then he can do his work. The professional knows that fear can never be overcome. He knows there is no such thing as a fearless warrior or a dread-free artist.

The professional has learned better. He respects Resistance. He knows if he caves in today, no matter how plausible the pretext, he’ll be twice as likely to cave in tomorrow.

The professional prepares mentally to absorb blows and to deliver them. His aim is to take what the day gives him. His goal is not victory (success will come by itself when it wants to) but to handle himself, his insides, as sturdily and steadily as he can.

A professional’s work has style; it is distinctively his own. But he doesn’t let his signature grandstand for him.

A professional schools herself to stand apart from her performance, even as she gives herself to it heart and soul. The Bhagavad-Gita tells us we have a right only to our labor, not to the fruits of our labor. All the warrior can give is his life; all the athlete can do is leave everything on the field.

A professional endures adversity. His core is bulletproof. Nothing can touch it unless he lets it.

The critic hates most that which he would have done himself if he had had the guts.

A professional is recognized by other professionals.

The pro keeps coming on. He beats Resistance at its own game by being even more resolute and even more implacable than it is.

Because the most important thing about art is to work. Nothing else matters except sitting down every day and trying.

Rest in peace, motherfucker.

The principle of organization is built into nature. Chaos itself is self-organizing. Out of primordial disorder, stars find their orbits; rivers make their way to the sea. When we, like God, set out to create a universe–a book, an opera, a new business venture–the same principle kicks in.

Insights pop into our heads while we’re shaving or taking a shower or even, amazingly, while we’re actually working. The elves behind this are smart. If we forget something, they remind us. If we veer off-course, they trim the tabs and steer us back. What can we conclude from this? Clearly some intelligence is at work, independent of our conscious mind and yet in alliance with it, processing our material for us and alongside us. This is why artists are modest. They know they’re not doing the work; they’re just taking dictation.

The Ego hates artists because they are the pathfinders and bearers of the future, because each one dares, in James Joyce’s phrase, to “forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race. The Ego produces Resistance and attacks the awakening artist.

Fear That We Will Succeed. That we can access the powers we secretly know we possess. That we can become the person we sense in our hearts we truly are. This is the most terrifying prospect a human being can face, because it ejects him at one go (he imagines) from all the tribal inclusions his psyche is wired for and has been for fifty million years. We fear discovering that we are more than we think we are.

We know that if we embrace our ideals, we must prove worthy of them. And that scares the hell out of us. What will become of us? We will lose our friends and family, who will no longer recognize us. We will wind up alone, in the cold void of starry space, with nothing and no one to hold on to. Of course this is exactly what happens. But here’s the trick. We wind up in space, but not alone. Instead we are tapped into an unquenchable, undepletable, inexhaustible source of wisdom, consciousness, companionship. Yeah, we lose friends. But we find friends too, in places we never thought to look. And they’re better friends, truer friends. And we’re better and truer to them.

We have entered Mass Society. The hierarchy is too big. It doesn’t work anymore.

To labor in the arts for any reason other than love is prostitution.

I trusted what I wanted, not what I thought would work. I did what I myself thought was interesting, and left its reception to the gods.

What are the qualities of a territory? 1) A territory provides sustenance. 2) A territory sustains us without any external input. 3) A territory can only be claimed alone. 4) A territory can only be claimed by work. A territory doesn’t give, it gives back. 5) A territory returns exactly what you put in.

Instead let’s ask ourselves like that new mother: What do I feel growing inside me? Let me bring that forth, if I can, for its own sake and not for what it can do for me or how it can advance my standing.

We must do our work for its own sake, not for fortune or attention or applause.

That’s why an artist must be a warrior and, like all warriors, artists over time acquire modesty and humility.

Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got.