The war of art

Is that what it takes? Do we have to stare death in the face
to make us stand up and confront Resistance? Does
Resistance have to cripple and disfigure our lives before we
wake up to its existence? How many of us have become
drunks and drug addicts, developed tumors and neuroses,
succumbed to painkillers, gossip, and compulsive cell-phone
use, simply because we don't do that thing that our hearts,
our inner genius, is calling us to? Resistance defeats us. If
tomorrow morning by some stroke of magic every dazed
and benighted soul woke up with the power to take the first
step toward pursuing his or her dreams, every shrink in the
directory would be out of business. Prisons would stand
empty. The alcohol and tobacco industries would collapse,
along with the junk food, cosmetic surgery, and infotainment
businesses, not to mention pharmaceutical companies,
hospitals, and the medical profession from top to bottom.

When a writer begins to overcome her Resistance—in
other words, when she actually starts to write—she may find
that those close to her begin acting strange. They may
become moody or sullen, they may get sick; they may
accuse the awakening writer of "changing," of "not being
the person she was." The closer these people are to the
awakening writer, the more bizarrely they will act and the
more emotion they will put behind their actions.
They are trying to sabotage her.
The reason is that they are struggling, consciously or
unconsciously, against their own Resistance. The awakening
writer's success becomes a reproach to them. If she can beat
these demons, why can't they?
Often couples or close friends, even entire families,
will enter into tacit compacts whereby each individual
pledges (unconsciously) to remain mired in the same
slough in which she and all her cronies have become
so comfortable. The highest treason a crab can commit
is to make a leap for the rim of the bucket.

The awakening artist must be ruthless, not only with
herself but with others. Once you make your break, you
can't turn around for your buddy who catches his trouser leg
on the barbed wire. The best thing you can do for that friend
(and he'd tell you this himself, if he really is your friend) is
to get over the wall and keep motating.
The best and only thing that one artist can do for another
is to serve as an example and an inspiration.

As artists and professionals it is our obligation to
enact our own internal revolution, a private insurrection
inside our own skulls. In this uprising we free ourselves
from the tyranny of consumer culture. We overthrow the
programming of advertising, movies, video games,
magazines, TV, and MTV by which we have been hypnotized
from the cradle. We unplug ourselves from the grid
by recognizing that we will never cure our restlessness
by contributing our disposable income to the bottom
line of Bullshit, Inc., but only by doing our work.

These are not easy questions. Who am I? Why am I here?
They're not easy because the human being isn't wired to
function as an individual. We're wired tribally, to act as part
of a group. Our psyches are programmed by millions of
years of hunter-gatherer evolution. We know what the clan
is; we know how to fit into the band and the tribe. What
we don't know is how to be alone. We don't know how
to be free individuals.

The artist is the advanced model. His culture possesses affluence, stability, enough
excess of resource to permit the luxury of self-examination.
The artist is grounded in freedom. He is not afraid of it. He
is lucky. He was born in the right place. He has a core of selfconfidence,
of hope for the future. He believes in progress
and evolution. His faith is that humankind is advancing,
however haltingly and imperfectly, toward a better world.

It may be that the human race is not ready for freedom.
The air of liberty may be too rarefied for us to breathe.
Certainly I wouldn't be writing this book, on this subject, if
living with freedom were easy. The paradox seems to be, as
Socrates demonstrated long ago, that the truly free individual
is free only to the extent of his own self-mastery. While those
who will not govern themselves are condemned to find
masters to govern over them.

Individuals who are realized in their own lives almost
never criticize others. If they speak at all, it is to offer
encouragement. Watch yourself. Of all the manifestations
of Resistance, most only harm ourselves. Criticism and
cruelty harm others as well.

Grandiose fantasies are a symptom of Resistance.
They're the sign of an amateur. The professional has
learned that success, like happiness, comes as a by-product
of work. The professional concentrates on the work and
allows rewards to come or not come, whatever they like.

Any support we get from persons of flesh and blood
is like Monopoly money; it's not legal tender in that
sphere where we have to do our work. In fact, the more
energy we spend stoking up on support from colleagues
and loved ones, the weaker we become and the less
capable of handling our business.

Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on
the part of the actor. It's a gift to the world and every being
in it. Don't cheat us of your contribution. Give us what
you've got.