Thursday, February 12, 2015

Out of Sight

February 12, 2015

Today I listened to an interview of David Sedaris, one of my favorite authors and undoubtedly one of the funniest and sharpest observers of life on the planet. During his remarks, he advised, "Never let people see you trying." While this advice was specifically about writing, it struck a broader chord with me: how true it is that that which seems effortless yet beautiful or successful inspires even more admiration and awe. But Sedaris's quote doesn't imply lack of effort. Rather, the effort that produces beauty and success need not be in plain sight.

I couldn't be a worse example of such subtlety. Everything I have ever done has required work that I'm woefully inadequate to hide. But such is certainly not the case for a host of my heroes: those exceptional people who exemplify phenomenal ability and/or talent without broadcasting the immense effort that creates the phenomenon.

One of my best friends is an accomplished author and consultant who travels the country improving educators' methods and mindsets. To her, it is a natural outpouring of who she is and what she knows. To me, it looks like the arduous path of a genius. 

Another friend and former student is now a doctor specializing in all things throat-ish. He spends his days with the fate of voices and airways in his careful hands. I go on and on about how amazing it is: "it's just me, what I do. Nothing special," he responds. His humility is genuine.

Unfortunately for humanity, the "look what I did and how hard I worked to do it" mentality is the norm. Opposite of Sedaris's advice, we oft scream from the rooftops (or, perhaps more accurately, our laptops) just how tried and true are our efforts, from that harried trip to the store described in detail via status update to how we toiled away at _______ to achieve _______.

Interestingly enough, we also publicize our own sacrifices whilst downplaying whatever it was: "really, it was nothing." We all know it was something. Come on. It is one thing for someone else to recognize a greatness in us. It is another for us to wear our own banner. Such is the nature of that pride that indeed "goeth before destruction." Such is also the unique gift that comes when something special we have done or can do is celebrated without us throwing our own party.

Author Lorraine Hansberry observed, "The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely." There is a sweetness to a solitude borne out of quiet excellence that lacks any pretense. While we (I) may crave recognition for every stride, how much more meaningful is the work no one sees. Contrary to the common mathematical directive, we need not always show our work.