On Being in Process…Oh! And What Makes a True Masterpiece
"Creative work is sort of like parenting--it's a hard, dirty, and sometimes frustrating process that usually gets portrayed with a heavy dose of romanticism." Austin Kleon
Some of my favorite videos to watch on the internet involve the sharing of a creative process. Paintings, custom cakes, pottery, home crafts, you name it. I know I'm not alone in this. Those videos get millions of views. It's not the final product that captivates us, but it is getting to see first-hand, in real-time, something undistinguished and nothing special becoming what we think of as a masterpiece.
Even those detailed videos only show a fraction of the time, talent, work, and mental energy it took to create that piece of art. Many times they're time-lapsed, so we see in a few seconds or minutes what really took hours or days or even months.
Yet, we're enraptured by every second of those videos. Why? Because the beauty is in the process.
I am a songwriter, and it can take months and has even taken years for me to finish some songs. I don't believe that it's lack of talent or that I'm too lackadaisical in my approach (although, admittedly, this one could be the culprit sometimes).
But I still frustrate myself with how long it takes to finish a song. I get impatient needing just the right lyric, finding nothing quite fits, but I scrawl something down so I can call it finished which means I can share it, but because I've rushed the process, I'm not satisfied with the product so I rarely do, share it I mean.
And then, when I hear a beautifully written and recorded finished product of a song by someone else, I can't help but feel jealous and I immediately start comparing, completely forgetting that artist works just as hard, has their own artistic processes, and shares in my pain of trying to craft a song with that perfect lyric or musical turn that will both move and inspire people in a timeframe that they can't always control.
I can't help but think of social media influencers sharing uplifting messages or advice about how to be a better person, friend, or parent. I see these posts, start comparing myself immediately, and forget that they're human just as much as I am, and that post they carefully scripted may represent months or even years of learning through the process to be able to share what they chose to share--or maybe it's even something they are actively learning.
As I'm writing a song, I am actively living the situation that I am writing and singing about which is why it takes so long to finish. I will add a line or two at a time because that's how I walk through a hard season,
Walking step by step.
Learning line by line.
This slow process helps me glean all of the lessons I'm meant to learn from each season. The process is beautiful, but painful and slow, and sometimes, admittedly, I'm embarrassed and ashamed of my process, and so I choose to live for the finished product, wanting to rush a process that is impossible to control, to get to the final outcome.
But this line of thinking is isolating, trapping me in a prison of perfectionism, a prison of my own making, by refusing to share my work with others until it is fully-polished, and losing myself in a spiral of self-critique.
This is true for writing and songwriting especially because so much happens inside the mind so the choice to share becomes an intentional one.
And yet I find that when artists choose to share their process, their audience is far more invested because they saw the hard work that went into that masterpiece as we see in the aforementioned time-lapse videos.
And this got me thinking, what if the masterpiece is not the final product, what if the masterpiece is instead the process or even the artist who happens to be in process themselves.
When we first bought our house, it reeked of animal urine and cigarette smoke. The walls were yellow from nicotine stains. It had flooring that was peeling up and stained carpets on which I was scared to let my toddler play or sit. You can see some of this process pictured above.
We saw the potential in it and knew it was a good decision to buy it, but showing it off to people wasn't top of our to-do list. And yet we invited some close friends into the mess and they helped us create a cozy, comfortable, and lovely home that we all get to enjoy now when we get together.
Sometimes, I feel that I am like that house. The one we bought, not the beautifully-finished renovation…
Because I am in process. Aren't we all? Aren’t we always?
And by the way, so is my house. Here’s an “after” picture including toddler leggings on the floor, dirty counter tops, and more because that’s life. Life is a process, never finished and messy.
I asked a few friends recently what community meant to them. And overwhelmingly, the answer was something along the lines of being fully seen, fully known, and fully loved.
How can I possibly expect to have real community that includes being fully seen, known, and loved, unless I let people into my process: the difficult, overwhelming, frustrating, painful, messy process. It's not something I naturally want to invite people into.
Sure, I can choose to walk the road alone, and I've done that, but I don't want to walk alone anymore. I'm making the harder but surprisingly more rewarding choice to let others in.
I have found that when I'm going through a hard season, I don't just need people, I want people, safe people, to be with me through the process because of the beauty that comes on the other side of that when we walk through our stuff together.
True community is being fully seen, fully known, AND fully loved.
So how do we allow ourselves to be seen, known, and therefore loved? I think it is through allowing people into our process of becoming, not just showing the finished product.
I want to share more of my process, not just my art, but MYSELF in process.
This doesn’t mean I am vulnerable with everyone, I believe in boundaries and recognizing who is safe and who isn't. And there are times while we're in process that we are too vulnerable to let just anyone in.
Yet, finding people who aren't scared of the mess and will walk with you in those difficult parts of your journey even while they themselves are walking their own difficult path is a blessing beyond anything else a human can receive.
Here is a little of me in process: I am a Christian with an evolving faith. Some call this deconstruction (not to be confused with destruction) because it is me inspecting the foundation of what I was brought up to believe about God and spirituality, and deciding what needs to stay and what needs to go, what is unhealthy and what is healthy.
Some call this an disentangling of my faith, but I like the way Emily P. Freeman describes it on this podcast episode. My faith is growing. And in order to grow, we have to inspect our foundations.
And growing brings pain.
And these are not the little pains that you complained about to your caregiver when you were little and they would say, "oh it's just a growing pain."
It's excruciating. I'm angry. I'm hurt. I fight bitterness. I'm grieving. So much loss. Beliefs, certainties, even friends.
But there’s beauty there, too, in the uncertainty, in the more authentic faith I can call my own, and in the friends that still walk with me, a precious few, a handful, willing to walk with me. We walk together on the journey of becoming. I on my journey, and they on their own journey. But choosing to walk together despite of that…I feel so lucky.
We don't always agree, and yet we give each other space, understanding, and love. We see and know each other because we choose to share ourselves in process.
We don't have to take turns being strong when we lean into each other. It's part of the beauty of choosing to walk together.
The reason I do all that I do is to help us, you, myself, and others inclusive, learn together to make home and community wherever we are on our unique journeys. And one of the foundational bricks in making home where you are is allowing others to see you as your authentic self: fully seen, fully known so you can be fully loved, and choosing to make home with them.
And being your authentic self requires allowing people to see YOU in process. No shame. No guilt. No worrying about the shoulds and should-nots.
I'm not saying it's easy to find, but I encourage you to make it your mission to find those people that will walk their own journey, right alongside you as you walk your own journey…each trusting that the other is perfectly held by steady, loving hands, and then share yourself with them unashamedly, not the finished product, but the you that is in process.
In the beginning, I quoted Austin Kleon who is known for saying, "Creative work is sort of like parenting--it's a hard, dirty, and sometimes frustrating process that usually gets portrayed with a heavy dose of romanticism."
You may not be an artist, but I think your life is a creative work, and if we wait to share our art because it's not finished or if we wait to share ourselves because we're in process, we may never let the world see true beauty because the process of becoming is a life's work--and that is the true masterpiece.
You are a true masterpiece.
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