I have never written about God before. Quite honestly, belief and religion are so far removed from my daily life that I struggled with how to spell the very word religion just now.
But this post is not about religion [ion/ eon??!]. It’s about reverence.
It’s about prayer.
It’s about passion.
It’s about the center of everything you do.
And why everything – every little thing – matters.
I watch the world every day. I’m an observer. Of humans. Of design. Of other people’s work. I notice that incredible font you paid a fortune for. That perfect pair of shoes that ride the line between sexy-cool and approachable. That one word you chose that made every other word in your post better, brighter, and more filled with your own brand of impeccable deliciousness.
I notice the details. Consciously.
And I make judgements based on those observations.
That ring you wore just so told me how your hands yearn to grab my attention. How your fingers are used for so many thankless chores and get so little love. Your adornment of them calls to me and makes me want to worship in your humble palms.
Each single word you choose as you articulate and punctuate your work tells me if you are confident within it. [click to tweet] If you find humor in it. If you love it. Or if you only do it only for the money.
Every awoken syllable tells me whether I should care. Your words will either wind me up and make me spin and bask in their wonder, or will make me retreat in familiar, floundering disappointment.
The imagery you broadcast on the billboards of your life are a repeating loop of the stories of you. The stories that tell me how you see the world and how you want the world to see you.
I beg you, show me a story that I want to hang on my wall in a gilded frame and look at always. [click to tweet]
Sing me a song that will break away the peeling plastic and asphalt and noise.
Lift me up.
Blow my mind.
Sweep me away in your breathtaking excellence.
Bowl me right over with your scintillating attention.
Hold me in the arms of your care.
Love me with your details.
Because details are where beauty lies.
And beauty matters.
More than search results or subscribers.
More than making an extra few dollars.
More than a launch date.
As you leap from one challenge to the next, one product to the next, one new sales page to the next, one new networking event to the next, one new thing-that-doesn’t-matter-at-all to the next…
It becomes painfully easy to sideline beauty.
To push it to the bottom of your list.
To hit publish without one last look.
It’s so much easier to crumple away from the brink of excellence.
One more perfect word.
One more minute to find an impeccable image.
One more dollar given to people who live in this world for no other reason than to make you and your work look amazing.
To just be done.
To choose ‘good enough’.
To just get it out there.
To not pick the route you know is the right one because you fear debt/judgement/scarcity.
But what if good enough isn’t good enough?
What if we are supposed to pay more attention? Do more. Be more. Infuse our work with all the beauty we can twist and nudge and smoosh and wedge into it?
What if spending a year making something exceptional is of more value than pushing something out right now to make rent?
Who says we have to get there so quickly?
Why do we celebrate speed over content?
Why are we all in such a hurry to move on to the next thing? What if this thing that you are doing right this second is the thing you were meant to master?
Because mastery is the dream, is it not? Greatness isn’t measured in books sold or subscriber counts. It’s measured in the work.
And mastery takes a million and one tiny minutes.
A million and one strained looks at the tiniest of details.
A million and one tears and brainstorms and triumphs and accolades and disappointments and fears-conquered, and derailments and breakthroughs.
Mastery is the plain and humble act of patiently putting just one foot forward into the void Every. Single. Day. [click to tweet]
But instead, you’re rushing it. Getting it out. Trying to make some fast cash. All for what? So you can hurry headlong into starting the process all over again?
Because we all crave that moment of wondering what the hell to do next, right? So why have we attached our lead foot to the gas pedal so we get there even faster?
We do it because we think busy = successful.
We do it because we want to seem profitable and strong.
We do it because we want to seem like we have mastered something.
But it’s your care that sets you apart.
Because anyone can look busy and successful. Anyone can seem like they know what they’re doing. Anyone can rush around and lament at how in-demand they are.
But why not let yourself be the exception?
Why not take the risk and be the one who pays more attention to the smallest touches?
…who takes the slower road?
…who lets their work unfold at the pace it needs to so that perfection has room to breathe?
What if we should let the perfect get in the way of the good? [click to tweet]
It’s time to ignore the people in your life who beg for your measurements and judge your worthiness based on the expediency of your successes.
Tell them to just fuck all the way off.
This is your life. Your work. Your dream. Yours. Not theirs.
You get one single go at this. And the simple truth is that the timetable of life is a construct of the clock industry.
You are not too old or too young to put every inch of yourself into something that makes your soul ignite. [click to tweet]
You take all the time you need.
Take all the time you need to make this thing you’re doing the most exquisite thing it can be. Because we need you to. Desperately.
Because it’s not the devil that’s in the details.
It’s the difference between good and great.
It’s in the details where we find our grace.
It’s in helping people in even the smallest of ways that we find our wisdom.
It’s in beauty that we find meaning.
It’s in remembering the needs of others that we find love.
Because it’s not the devil in the details.
God is in the details.
And this is my religion.
This is the fifth of six posts I am publishing here on Makeness as part of The Bravery Blogging Project we are hosting.
Should you be kind enough to share, please use the hashtag #braveblogging to help participants and readers connect with each other.
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