You have to give the passion that’s necessary, you know? Like I said, I don’t do it for the money, the money’s gonna come. I do it because of the love that I have for it. You know what I’m saying?
– Dr. Dre
“Straight Outta Compton” is a great movie.
I’m not just saying that because I like hip-hop music (I do), or because it was entertaining and well-written (it was). What I enjoyed the most was how much they focused on the art of rap music.
Every scene in the first half of the movie builds up reverence for the craft. From Ice Cube rapping in underground clubs, to Dr. Dre using old school vinyls as inspiration for his beats, the viewer can’t help but appreciate the skill and passion that drove these young rap icons. When we finally get to see NWA perform for the first time, we’re left to appreciate the beautiful nuances of passionately delivered lyrics, expertly timed to carefully composed beats. The concert scenes are pure gold, and I’m glad the director chose not to skimp on recreating those lively performances.
As I watched the fictional Ice Cube tear it up on screen, I couldn’t help but admire how passionate these individuals were for the art of rap. It made me wonder whether there was any one thing I was as passionate about as they were for creating music, and I was having a tough time coming up with an answer.
Sure, I’m passionate about a lot of things, but they’re not really tangible crafts. A craft is something you devote yourself to single-mindedly, day in and day out, until you reach expert status. The things I enjoy doing aren’t necessarily activities I can lose myself in for hours at a time, and learn to perfect over the course of many years. Well, perhaps they are, but I haven’t devoted my life and career to revolve around just one of those activities to this point in my life. I’ll touch on this a bit later, but most of my peers can probably relate.
So with that said, as someone with many skills, interests, and passions, what am I really expert in?
Writing is probably the closest activity I can think of that puts me in the same zip code as a true “craftsman.” Yet it’s just one of many activities I devote myself to on a weekly basis, which is a far cry from the daily deliberate practice needed to become world class in a specific craft.
When I think about this lack of tangible craftsmanship in my life, it’s the same uneasiness I’ve felt in the past whenever I was frustrated at work. It’s a general sense of anxiety that stems from a desire to perform well, yet not being able to pour myself into any specific activity (or even set of activities). I’ve found ways to perform well and add value in these situations, but the work often lacked fulfillment, despite my best efforts to dig deep and embrace the process.
I’m sure many of my knowledge-worker colleagues have experienced something similar. The roles and responsibilities for those in product management, marketing, business development, and sales (just to name a few) are constantly changing, forcing the skills of these workers to reflect their unpredictable world. Resilience and adaptability are the key traits required for those with intangible and ever-changing job descriptions, not predictable depth and expertise in any one specific function.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just a reality that faces the modern workforce. We’re bred to be generalists because it’s what is being rewarded in the marketplace.
But is it making our work heartless in the process?
If the supply of capable workers is adequately fulfilling demand, why are so many of us overstressed and unhappy? Could a lack of craft have something to do with it?
I propose it does. If you think about what’s required to become world class at anything, you’ll realize it takes a boatload of practice and dedication. Most people assume this is hard, torturous work, but I don’t think that’s the case. My hypothesis is that people who put in the time required to become great at their craft love what they do. It’s this love for their artistry that drives them and provides them with purpose. This ultimately leads to fulfillment in one form or another, whether their abilities are recognized by anyone else or not.
In our ambitious, self-help driven world, it’s easy to become enamored by the promise of the next shiny new skill. We want to believe that learning how to do 58 different things will help us advance in our careers and lead to a more fulfilling life.
But what if the opposite were true? What if focusing on just one thing with all our might held the key to purpose and fulfillment?
If that were the case, what craft would you choose to dedicate your life to?
I wish I knew the answer for myself. Maybe I was meant to be a rapper after all…