October 11, 2021
When your worst gets better
Time is our friend and partner.
It’s the most valuable commodity we don’t own, and it has faith in us even when we don’t.
Lincoln once said, or at least, the film version of him once said, time is the great thickener of things.
In my experience, the thing that time thickens the most is the faith we have in ourselves. Because time gives us something that nobody can take away from us. Evidence. Undeniable proof that we can do this, and win. We’ve done it before, and we will do it again.
It’s empowering as hell. Once we’ve accumulated a certain amount of evidence to make a case for our own talents and skills, we learn to trust our capacity to do things.
One of my favorite comedians talked about the creative thickening process in a magazine interview. He explained:
The first thing that happens is that your best gets better, but what really matters is when your worst gets better. You can’t always be crackling with energy. Sometimes you go up there, and the thing didn’t happen, but you’ve got to put together a fucking amazing show anyway, so your worst show has to be above everybody’s best. That’s what you really want. Your worst, that comes with time, that comes with experience.
Have you reached a point where even your bad days still get the job done?
That’s the mark of a true professional. You’re not in the mood, you don’t want to show up, most of the world won’t care or even notice your work, and sitting down to do it is the last thing you want to do in the moment.
But you deliver anyway. And while it’s not perfect, it’s good enough. It’s better than the person who didn’t show up.
Startups often use the term minimum viable product in regards to this issue, which means enough features to satisfy early customers and provide feedback for future development. It’s the smallest possible slice of benefit you can deliver to the smallest group of users.
Artists could say the same for our work, although a more fitting term might be minimum viable value. It’s when our worst gets better. When we’re patient enough to stay in the game long enough to aggregate enough experience to obviate failure.
Wow, that’s your advice? Just stick around and wait until you get better?
Absolutely. It’s simplistic and time intensive, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. What’s more, it makes a strong argument for getting older.
In a world where everyone is desperately scrambling to drink from the fountain of youth through age defying anti wrinkle cream, now you have another reason to look forward to getting older.
That thickening mountain of evidence of your worthiness.
Which, of course, was there all along, you just needed a few years to develop the vision to see it.
How will time thicken the faith you have in yourself?