I’ve been listening to Alan Watts this morning and came across some lectures on the importance of skill, how to lessen negative self-thinking, and the side-effects of ego.
Generally I am prone to comparisons, so the ego is more present in me than I’d like to admit. And I think it’s because I’m obsessed with what it means to be truly skilled. To rank in the upper echelons of mastery in any arena–let along several or many.
So when I find something I enjoy, naturally I will be hard on myself to improve because I want desperately the kind of satisfaction that comes from knowing you’re one of the best. That ambition, that sort of self-competition can suffocate the enjoyment factor of any subject over time.
I understand that I’m good at a few things, and that this very statement is a grossly modest representation of my actual skills, but keep in mind I also understand that it is only in comparison to the average person that what I can do seems “good.”
Here’s the rub: I’m not comparing myself to the average person and claiming not to be “good” at what I’m good at just for someone to stroke my ego. My problem is that I’m comparing myself to the 99.9th percentile artisans, musicians, writers, you name it.
When I recognize that insane level of skill is out there, that people are devoting their entire waking being to bettering those same talents and areas of expertise, any ego I might have had regarding “being good” is crushed and I humble before truer masters.
Yes, in “comparison mode” I can look at one of my pencil portraits next to someone else’s shitty stick-figure drawing and tell that mine was rendered with some degree of skill. I take ownership of that skill and at what point it lies in the bell curve. To me, though, it’s still not good enough. Never will be. No number of compliments will keep that raft of doubt afloat. Nor should they.
I recognize the problems in order: I want to be recognized (silly lower-consciousness ego) but also don’t know how to accept a compliment without comparing myself to others who are better (insecure and uncertain about my actual level of skill) because expressing myself in those ways (through art, music, writing) is important to me in that I pour my heart and soul into them…and more often than not keep all of it to myself. I’m scared to share them with anyone because I think myself into believing that if I can’t produce absolute mastery it must not be worth sharing.
And if it’s not worth sharing, how much is it worth doing?
So…I let those skills go wasted. They never leave me (I’ve found after years of not drawing I can regain full potential with regular practice and even show marked improvement), but I’m not actively producing anything either. I hear music all the time. Music I wish I could share with people. But I lack the skill and the resources to produce it fully, so what to do with it?
Sit on it, I guess. Wait for anyone to ask if someone does a particular thing, to which I can reply: “Yes, I know how and have been told I do so well.” Beyond that, my identity as an artist or musician or writer feels outdated if not outright disingenuous in the present. The proper fix would be simply to begin practicing all of them again. All at once, like my years as a teenager. Like my sons are doing this very moment, I’m sure.
I think that’s much of the appeal with learning to code. I’ve told stories and made art but never crafted anything functional. Those things are nice to interpret and respond to but the user interaction is one-sided. I love the idea of being able to express myself through design and functionality in ways people might actually appreciate, even if it is a subtle and thankless role.
Maybe even especially if it is. Who wants spotlight anyway?
More Alan Watts is in order. If only the YouTube app would play sound with the screen off so I wouldn’t have to do yard work with a lit phone in my pocket…
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