The ship carrying a cargo that will never reach any port

Tom Cruise delvers an amazing monologue at the end of his nineties legal drama, The Firm.

While consulting with his mobster clients, he reassures them of the confidentiality of their affairs with his firm. Dripping wet with sweat and blood, with nothing but a tattered briefcase in his hand, here’s what he tells them:

Whatever I know, wherever I go, I am bound by the attorney client privilege. I’m exactly like a ship, carrying a cargo that will never reach any port. And as long as I’m alive, that ship will always be at sea.

This is a persuasive visual for an attorney to use with their clients, but it’s also a beautiful way to think about life itself.

Just imagine for a moment.

What if we accepted that our ship will always be at sea?
What if we forgave life for never allowing our cargo to reach any port?
What if we embraced the fact the ride does not require a destination or an explanation, only occupants?

It may sound nihilistically dark and existentially exhausting, but there’s a freedom within this vision that we can learn to love.

Personally, this sense of detachment has revolutionized my relationship with my own art making. Surrendering to the fact that almost nobody wants to read my books, that makes me more relaxed while writing them. Accepting the fact that almost nobody is waiting around to consume my latest and greatest creation, that makes the experience of creating it more joyful. Embracing the fact that most people are simply too busy and too overloaded with noise to even notice my latest endeavor, that makes me more confident in taking risks along the way.

What a marvelous gift. Being unburdened by the need or even the want to earn people’s attention for almost anything, every creative person should be so lucky.

And this isn’t just me being cynical or hard on myself. I’ve been making art professionally for the past twenty years. Trust me, telling yourself the story that your ship carrying the cargo will never reach any port, is an absolute game changer.

As my mentor once said, when you expect nothing, anything feels like everything.

Compare that mindset to the way my brain used to work, which was

Holy shit, this could be the one email that is changes everything for me. Better obsessively check my inbox every three minutes for the next six hours.

That’s the attitude that gave me an ulcer.

I’m not writing to be read, I’m writing to be a writer.

Are you a journey person or a destination person?