Step by Step

 The French moralist and essayist, Joseph Joubert, once wrote, "Completion is made up of little things." Interestingly, the German translation of the word "completion" is "die Vollendung", which may be translated as either "completion"or "perfection". Which to me are quite different things... it is possible to complete something by doing many "little things" but perfection is rarely attainable.

It is a well-known maxim that any journey starts with a single step. Which is often the most difficult one to make. Think about driving a car: it takes more engine power to move the car from stationary to moving, than it does to move it from slower to quicker. And, once we have taken that vital first step, subsequent steps somehow seem easier.

It can be both exciting and daunting to begin a new project. On the one hand, we are excited about the new idea that has seized our imagination and are full of enthusiasm to get on with it. On the other, if we make the mistake of looking up from what we are doing at that moment and see how very far we still have to go, we may become discouraged and wonder whether we will ever get there.

So perhaps it is best to concentrate only on the next step, whatever the next step might be - to walk an extra 500 steps today, or write a scene of the novel, or find some readings or prayers for a service (to use some common "next steps" from my own life). 

And yet, once we reach the last part of a project, we can be infused by an impatience to complete it. Which may mean that the last few "things" are scamped, rushed, not done with as much care as the rest. Which I believe is a mistake. It can be difficult to bring the same amount of concentration and dedication to each step as we did to the previous one (or hundred, or thousand) but if we are to attain a good completion, it is worth it.

And, if we are lucky, the prospect of a solid finish line may restore some lost enthusiasm. I can remember running the London Marathon in 2004. My running partner and I were struggling from miles 17 to 23, and wondered whether we would ever get there. But once we got near the end, I can remember how excited I felt and found the energy from somewhere for a final burst of speed to take me over the finish line.

Truly, any completion is built on many little things. Our job is to do each little thing as well as we can, so that when we reach the completion point, we can rest, knowing that we have given it our best.

One Step at a Time

Like many of us, I can become disheartened by the sheer volume of what I need / would like / feel I ought to do. So this week's quotation, by Saadi, gave me fresh heart. It reads, "It is not an art to conquer the world; if you can, conquer a heart."

It reminded me of another quotation, by (I think) the American Unitarian Universalist minister, Forrest Church, "Do what you can, where you are, with what you have."

In other words, we don't need to "conquer the world" right off the bat. Changes are made by individual people, doing what they can from where they are, day by day, using the skills that they have, and being open to change and growth.

I would guess that all of us can make a list of "things that are wrong with the world". They might include poverty, war, homelessness, exploitation of the planet, violence... the list is endless, and depressing. And overwhelming. What can we, individual little people, do about it all?

The answer, I believe, is in Saadi's quote, "if you can, conquer a heart." Use the mind, heart and abilities we have been given, to change *one* person's mind, to pick up *one* piece of litter, to choose to buy *one* eco-friendly bottle of washing liquid, to sign *one* petition, to attend *one* protest. Then, to further the washing metaphor, "rinse and repeat".

image by Bill Stilwell (Flickr)

This approach also applies to tasks which feel "too big". When faced with a serious and complicated task, it is human nature to procrastinate, to do that which is easiest, and to ignore that which is difficult and overwhelming.

I know this from my own experience. Each time I add a new piece of software to my PC, which I know will *ultimately* make my life easier, it is such a massive temptation to carry on using the same old, less-efficient software I know so well. Because the struggle to learn how to use a new piece of software efficiently daunts me.

This has happened this week. I've downloaded a free trial edition of Scrivener, the writing software, and spent last night going through the tutorial. I can see that once I've got to grips with it, it's going to make my novel so much more fun to write. BUT there are so many features with which I am unfamiliar, I am finding the prospect incredibly daunting. So... I'm going to take my own advice, order a copy of Scrivener for Dummies and give it a proper go. I am sure that once I've taken that first step, and actually engaged with the software, it will become easier and easier.

But the first step is the most difficult. Conquering one heart is the most difficult. The greatest amount of energy is used when we start moving. From still to first step takes more energy (certainly more emotional and spiritual energy) than the following steps. A sort of virtuous feedback loop is set up, and as we form a new habit, it becomes easier to maintain it.

And remember...

image: Flickr

Running out of mojo

This week's quotation is by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: "Aller Anfang ist leicht, und die letzten Stufen werden am schwersten und seltesten erstiegen."

Which being translated, means, "The beginning is easy and the final stages are the most difficult and rarest to climb (reach)."

Jury's out on this one, for me. Yes, I agree that we often start new projects with great enthusiasm, and then, once we get down into the nitty gritty and hard grind, our enthusiasm can peter out and we have to call on all our reserves to finish the job properly. It takes great determination and dedication to do this, as I have blogged before here.

BUT, sometimes beginning something is the hardest step - not easy at all. Especially if we believe that the task ahead of us is going to be difficult, or complicated. It is only too easy to put off beginning, to do other things to distract ourselves from what we ought to be getting on with.

I'm usually quite good at getting things done, but creative writing is the one exception to this rule. Faced with a blank page, is is only too tempting to fool around on Facebook, or on Wikipedia, or make another coffee, go for a walk, even do some housework!... almost anything except get some words down onto that terrifying blankness.

And then, if we do manage to make a start on the task, it is easy (but fatal) to listen to the voices of self-doubt in our heads. "This is no good." "You can't do this." "X is so much better / cleverer / more artistic than I am - what's the point of even trying?"

We have to get over this self-doubt by telling ourselves: "I'm doing this. It may not be the best [whatever] in the world, but it's my task, and I'm going to finish it, because it has to be done."

Where do you fall? Do you find beginnings easy and completions hard, like Goethe? Or are beginnings the hardest thing of all?