Life as a Visual Storyteller—Episode 26—26th July, 2015: Keeping Going When the Big Project Seems Pointless, or Worse: Awful

Following James Lawrence taught me a few things. Or rather, it reminded me of things I'd seen/heard/experienced/known before. He gave me a living example of how to deal with them.

James is not rich man. Nor am I. Yet, he somehow managed to pull together the funds to allow him to complete his astonishing achievement. Lack of money didn't hold him back from accomplishing his dream. (Listen to this conversation between Rich Roll and James to hear the story: The Iron Cowboy's Assault on Impossible).

James is a family man. So am I. He has five children. I have one, who makes me feel like I have five. He didn't abandon his family to undertake his massive triathlon journey. They came with him. They were part of the journey—involved in a meaningful way. I have something to learn there. I get drawn into my own world too much. In 2013 and 2014, I pretty much abandoned my wife and daughter in favour of work. I must guard against that happening again.

James went through dark times while completing his 50 consecutive daily triathlons. Those moments must have been the worst kind of psychological horrible. He pushed through. That's something we can all learn from as creatives, I think. Do you have a big project you're struggling with? I do. The Show & Tell video is overwhelming me, for instance. And I'm not even sure it will be any good when it's done. Novelists must have this concern all the time. Writing a book is a huge undertaking. At some point, all writers must wonder whether the book will be worthwhile when it's completed. Painters too. Filmmakers. Sculptors. All of us.

Those times when our end goal is faraway and our initial energy has dissipated—those are our dark hours. All that remains is the work. It's just us and it—unformed and unruly. And the road we have to carve out ahead of us is still long.

There is, of course, only one way to know whether the work is any good. Complete it.

But that's not enough. In the horrible claustrophobic moments of doubt and deflation, we somehow need to find the fortitude to still do our best work—or at least, the best we can under the circumstances. If we do that, we'll give ourselves the best chance of producing something good. It may even be magical.

Keep pushing on.