Yesterday, I came across an engaging post that included a colleague’s observation that some artists can appear to be on a very narrow path in their careers. The colleague then thoughtfully shared his concerns about the potential costs associated with such a focus.
It is true that a practitioner’s focus may seem extremely narrow to many. With my career, for example, it would be more than fair for many onlookers to describe my journey as following a very, very narrow path. However, possibly surprising to some, this is NOT the case from MY perspective. To understand why, I would like to present a metaphor I often use in my own studio when discussing ideas of chasing mastery, deliberate practice, and fulfillment.
Let’s imagine that true mastery of a particular practice is found atop a ladder extending from the ground to the sky. Each rung on this metaphorical ladder is equivalent to a degree of skill growth, so as we climb, our skill set grows. Standing on the ground at the base of the ladder, one cannot see the top of the ladder—rather, it just seems to converge into a single point, disappearing into the high atmosphere.
As one looks directly at the portion of the ladder in front of them, one can easily perceive the rungs are perfectly spaced to facilitate an efficient ascent (about a foot apart.)
Now, think about what we see when someone starts to climb that ladder. Initially, to an onlooker on the ground, the climb appears very productive and dynamic. The changes in the climber’s position and observed activity are quick and significant. However, it is not long before a steady climber begins to look more and more like an unchanging, unmoving spot as they appear to slowly merge with the stillness of the distant, barely visible ladder. However, to the climber, the ladder rungs are still a foot apart, the climber’s behavior is still as steady and as productive as their start, and the heights they can see to climb toward are far beyond the visual range on those on the ground.
Consider that what may seem to be a narrow focus to some onlookers may be a highly dynamic ongoing exploration of a vast experiential landscape beyond an onlooker’s purview. This idea may be best summed up by the world’s foremost cellist, Pablo Casals, when he was in his 80s and was asked why he continued to practice four and five hours a day. Casals answered simply, “Because I think I am making progress.”