Mundane Routine, Magical Life

Ever since seeing Star Wars as a kid, I became fascinated with careers in creativity.

Could someone really make a living telling stories? And not just a living, but become really, really rich and really, really famous? And not just stories, but creating...anything? 

George Lucas, Stephen Spielberg, Cat Stevens, Neil Diamond, Steve Wozniak, Jim Henson, Evel Knievel -- these people were creating things, and talking so casually about their creations as if they were just another moment in a day-in-the-life of a whole-minded person.

I was fascinated and wondered where these people had come from. They just appeared. Like magic.

I quickly succumbed to society's narrative of the overnight success. After all, I had never heard the name George Lucas before Star Wars was released, Spielberg before Raiders of the Lost Ark, Wozniak before the Apple I. 

And then suddenly, there they were. They were everywhere. Every talk show. TV, radio, morning, night. Their faces were on billboards, their voices on ads. 

I carried this concept of an overnight success with me for decades, to great detriment. 

I was always searching for the big moment, the big idea, the next big thing. The screenplay, the song, the hook, the concept, the big idea. 

As I got older and looked more closely, I saw that there was a lot more to it. Film school, night clubs, garage tinkering, backyard birthday parties. 

But things really set home when I started a niche digital community business in 2020. I saw the vision -- hundreds, if not thousands, of creative senior innovators, visionaries, and dreamers. I could see the success. I could see what "tomorrow" looked like. I just had to get to the next overnight. Then...oh, then next. And the next. The overnights were endless.

To actually see the vision become a reality, to actually get there -- there was no path to success by the next morning. The idea had come on strong, like a light bulb, overnight, and burning brightly inside me. But to make it happen? To manifest it? To create this thing?

What a slog!

It would take a daily effort. I would need a website and a subscription platform. I would need content. I would need members!  Hundreds? Thousands? How about just one?

My mindset shifted quickly on that project. I would need to wake up and tackle things every day. Often, the same thing. 

Web design review. Developer conversations. Email. Marketing. Automation. Content. Funding. More marketing. And more marketing. And more.

I soon found myself honing in on a routine. Wake up early. Ease into the day. Meditate. Write. These weren't necessary for my business, but I knew from career burnout, these things had to come first. Then, I'd go to work. 

It's not sexy. It's not an epic first screening, or guesting for Johnny Carson, or cracking the top 40, or a Sunday prime time show debut. 

It's mundane. 

Wake. Brush teeth. Sit still. Write. Make coffee. Work. Eat. Play. Pray. Rinse. Repeat.

It's not quite Groundhog's Day, but in a sense it is. We're not repeating the exact same external scenarios every day. We're not encountering exactly the same challenges and given another shot at them. 

But then again, we are, especially if it's true that the external world is only a reflection of our internal world in the making.

And, I'm finding that to be true. I'm not focused on the outcome. I'm not looking for the big hit. I'm not looking for overnight success.

I'm looking for satisfaction in the task at hand, and I'm finding it. 

And, it's changing my life. Things are, in fact, showing up. The universe seems to favor my intentions when they are coupled with positive thought and consistent action. Things seem to get easier. They're more enjoyable. There's a peace and satisfaction apparent and obvious in the Now, that's not dependent upon some future state of success, recognition, or exposure. 

It feels a little magical. And who wouldn't want that?