Creative Process

Play vs. Work

“What work I have done I have done because it has been play. If it had been work I shouldn’t have done it. Who was it who said, “Blessed is the man who has found his work”? Whoever it was he had the right idea in his mind. Mark you, he says his work–not somebody else’s work. The work that is really a man’s own work is play and not work at all. Cursed is the man who has found some other man’s work and cannot lose it. When we talk about the great workers of the world we really mean the great players of the world. The fellows who groan and sweat under the weary load of toil that they bear never can hope to do anything great. How can they when their souls are in a ferment of revolt against the employment of their hands and brains? The product of slavery, intellectual or physical, can never be great.” Mark Twain

Why is it that we feel the need to draw arbitrary lines between “work” and “play?” So many people, in fact, dream of working themselves around the clock for several years in order to claim the prize of “early retirement.” It’s thought that if we can only get all of this “work” stuff out of the way, then we could really enjoy ourselves and do whatever we want - take up a hobby, write our novel, etc. We have so cast the dichotomy between work and play that we are incapable of seeing them as two sides of the same coin - an expression of our engaged curiosity.

In fact, we’ve so taken this to categorical extremism that it affects our mindset about what we’re up to in the world. I often hear, “I’d really like someday to be engaged in helping orphans” or “after this I’d love to spend time mentoring young designers” or other types of “wishful” thinking. But, for now at least, we’re a prisoner of this thing called “work” until the “great someday.” We divide ourselves into two modes and assign a purpose to each. One is for our “passions and interests” and one is for our “work.”

We have confused “occupation” with “vocation.”

We each (hopefully) have an occupation. It is the way we make money, pay the bills and contribute to the economy. It’s our job. It leverages our skills to generate value for the organization of which we’re a part. It is largely extrinsically motivated (pay, rewards, recognition, etc.)

Though we often don’t realize it, we each also have a vocation, which is the unique contribution that we have to offer the world. It’s the central thing that puts a “fire in our gut” when we encounter it or engage in it. It is intrinsically motivated. It’s the thing that fuels our passion, keeps us moving forward and in some cases even obsesses us.

Vocation is typically much more aligned with our “gifts” than with our “skills.” Skills can be developed, but gifts are unique ways of engaging the world that cannot necessarily be taught. They seem to be innate. (For example, many visual artists simply see the world differently than other people. Others can be taught to replicate a shape or a line on a page, but the truly gifted visual artist simply has a unique way of seeing perspective, shape, texture, light, etc. The same holds true with the gifted musician. Playing a piece by rote is different than experiencing the world as music.)

The tension that causes us to draw lines between work and play is the tension between our occupation’s responsibilities and our vocation’s pull. We know what fires us up, but our day-to-day tasks do not fuel that fire. We feel robbed. Though some people are able to bring the vocation/occupation dissonance into alignment, most of us will spend our day-to-day activity performing tasks and engaging in activity that leverages our skills rather than our gifts. But when we begin to understand our vocation, we can cast our day-to-day activity in light of what we value as opposed to what we feel obligated to do.

The beginning of relieving this tension and reclaiming “work as play” is to identify our vocation. What is it that fires us up? What do we obsess on when there is no extrinsic reward? It is important to be a specific as possible. For example, a few years ago I began this journey of excavation and realized that underneath much of my passion is a desire to see people freed up to be brilliant. I noticed a pattern in my life of being deeply moved by stories of underdogs, people who had accomplished things in spite of the critics, and people who had taken extreme (though calculated) risks to deny fear and embrace possibility. This “freedom fighter” ethic had always been present in me, but I’d not identified it so specifically. Now much of my day is seen through that lens. My occupation does not always line up with my vocation as “freedom fighter,” but because I’m aware of this vocation I’m able to bring “who I am” to “what I do.”

Though the process can take a long time, I’d encourage you to make an attempt identify your vocation. Here are a few questions to help you get started:

1. When are you most “moved” emotionally? Cite a few specific instances. Are there any connections between them? What are the commonalities? 2. How can you better bring your occupation in-line with your vocation? Are there ways in which you could leverage your gifts in your work as well as your skills?
3. Are there any ideas you’ve had that you’ve always wanted to execute, but have been putting off? Do they line-up with your vocation? What would be the next step to get started?

In the next part of our series “Battle Lines”, we’ll be tackling masks vs. identity.

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«Possibilities vs. PragmaticsProactive vs. Reactive»

Tags: Creative Process, Productivity


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