The Path of the Disciple

There is an old Zen saying that goes something like this: "The reason there are so many disciples and so few masters is that most disciples can picture themselves as masters, and are content with that picture." In other words, the reason there are so many who dabble in or practice a discipline and so few who actually master that discipline is because the vast majority of those who dabble and practice can imagine what it would be like to master the discipline, but they aren't willing to put forth the effort required to do so. And this goes for any calling, vocation, career, avocation or hobby. Many people dabble at it, putter around the edge of it, even become fairly good at it, but only a handful ever actually master it because the rest aren't willing to put forth the effort required to do so. Many people play the piano, but there are only a handful of concert pianists. Many people cook professionally, but there are only a handful of master chefs. Many people paint pictures, but there are only a handful of van Goghs and Renoirs in the world. And why? Because only a handful of people are willing to throw everything they've got into something, to work at it constantly even in the face of overwhelming criticism, because they believe in what they are doing.

There's a great movie called Gattica, about a future world where most children are genetically selected to make them perfect. The few children who are not genetically engineered are looked down on as being inferior and are discriminated against. There are two brothers in the movie, one genetically engineered and the other conceived naturally. The two have a competition they do - they dive into the ocean and try to see which one can swim out the furthest from shore. The genetically engineered brother always loses this contest. Finally, after being bested by his "inferior" brother yet again, the genetically engineered brother asks his brother how it is that he always beats him. The "inferior" brother simply says, "I never saved anything for the return trip." This is how the disciple becomes the master. You never save anything for the return trip. Why? Because once you become a master, you won't be going back. And it's the same for writing as it for everything else. It's the same for me. Am I willing to do whatever it takes to become a master at writing? Am I willing to do the hard work, the really hard work, even in the face of overwhelming odds?

This man did. This man was one of the greatest writers of all time, even though he was haunted by inner demons the likes of which most of us could never begin to imagine. Still he wrote, even while those demons were tearing him asunder. Against seemingly insurmountable odds, he produced some of the greatest novels of our time: The Sun Also Rises, A Farewell to Arms, For Whom the Bell Tolls, To Have and Have Not, The Old Man and the Sea, A Movable Feast. And then there were the scads of short stories. And the non-fiction writing. I have his complete works - they fill twenty volumes! His personal life may have been a disaster, but when it comes to writing, this man was a master. Which is not to say your personal life has to be a disaster in order for you to become a master. Ray Bradbury has also produced some of the greatest literary works of our time - The Martian Chronicles, The Illustrated Man, Fahrenheit 451, Dandelion Wine, Something Wicked This Way Comes - as well as screenplays for several famous movies including Moby Dick, and his personal life was just fine. Happily married all of his life to the same woman. Can't do better than that. So here's the question: Which am I? Master or disciple? Well, which are you?