It’s been a long time since I sat down to write something like this. I put a moratorium on it to check my rampaging ego, but I think this is worth bringing up in light of a few things I’ve seen of late.
Let me tell you a little story.
Sen no Rikyu
The Japanese tea ceremony is an important part of the country’s cultural heritage. Once ostentatious and grand, it was stripped down to a Zen-like simplicity by a man named Sen no Rikyu. Rikyu earlier in his life was a monk and embraced the traditional aesthetic of a deep love for nature. He believed that to achieve true grace and power, the best route was to emulate nature.
Nature created sublime beauty in the trees, blossoms, and lakes without ever revealing the eons of work behind any of it. The lightning bolt was awe inspiring and terrifying, but a mystery. The coming of the seasons was a cycle of incredible force and power, but no one then could understand how. The wonder of nature lay in the fact that it never revealed to us its secret workings. It simply was.
Rikyu was notorious for his passive criticisms of the tea ceremony in others. He visited the home of one such host and noted the garden gate looked too out of place. True, the gate was of exquisite craftsmanship and beauty, but it would have to have been imported at great expense from another region. Sure enough, the tea ceremony the host created was similarly pretentious. Rikyu quietly excused himself and left.
He repeated this action later when a different host contrived to prove his cleverness by going out into his garden to cut a fresh lemon to garnish a dish of Osaka rice cake. Rikyu knew however that no man of class and intelligence would think of serving something so expensive without a garnish already. It was too obvious and staged to create the sort of charm the host had intended.
To Rikyu, the height of beauty was the appearance of spontaneous grace. The Japanese love of nature came from a desire to emulate it by approximating its effortlessness. Humans create through contrivance, work, and intellect. But when we pull back the curtain and show all the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every little action, they begin to lose their appeal. The Zen of the tea ceremony is to achieve a moment of tranquility and peace without all the bells and whistles that usually accompany our daily lives.
Talleyrand
Talleyrand was one of France’s greatest politicians in the 19th century. He was a brilliant statesman who managed to pass unscathed through several regime changes and maintain his status as a respect man.
Talleyrand had a penchant for taciturnity, forcing people to speak more around him than they normally would in an effort to keep the conversation going. He had an elaborate network of spies loyal only to him. He was the very picture of composition, never losing his temper and remaining calm and collected in the worst of situations. People began to think he was clairvoyant, or at least possessed of some sort of sixth sense. Either way he seemed to know what no one else knew.
Naturally, his secrets behind the incredible foresight remained so until after his death. If he revealed to people all the hard work he put in behind the scenes, there would be no mystic allure to his insight and people would never trust him again. His efforts had to remain a mystery.
These tactics allowed him to keep his head after the French Revolution, conspire against and overthrow Napolean, and survive the attacks of his enemies throughout his long career. Part of it was his reputation for preternatural awareness of his surroundings and the events therein. People didn’t want to cross him because they had no idea if the conspiracy would go unnoticed or if it would come back to haunt them.
Harry Houdini
Finally, a name all of you recognize instead of obscure footnotes in the history of countries you may never have been to. Relax, I’m being facetious.
Houdini was very careful not to reveal his methods, but more importantly he never revealed the sheer amount of work that went into his act. Everything had drama, and every time he courted death. But by the end he made it all seem like a game. He toyed with his audience as if to say that he was only drawing out these experiences for his own entertainment.
Given any set of locks, Houdini could be out of them in a matter of seconds due to his hours of study in anatomy, the mechanics of locks, and drama. He spent hours ever day working out and stretching to keep in top physical condition. He needed to keep his mind and body at their absolute best in order to continue his act.
But Harry was also intent on creating not just fame, but a legend. To do that, he had to make himself out to be more than human, a superhero. He made sure to never let anyone see the amount of effort he put into his death-defying escapes. They would lose their appeal if people saw that Houdini was a normal human being who just worked really hard.
Several times Harry actually did find himself close to death, such as when he escaped from the belly of an embalmed “sea monster” in 1921. The ether used to preserve the carcass long enough for Houdini to pull off his stunt nearly destroyed his kidneys. But heaven forbid Harry let the press get wind of that in his lifetime. Sure it was exciting to think that he was coming close to death, but to actually see the damage would be like pulling back the curtain and showing how he accomplished his manacle escapes.
Conclusion
It’s tempting to want to let people get a glimpse into how hard we work. It could be from wanting recognition for all our work, or sympathy for the sleepless hours. It’s essentially ego validation.
But if you reveal all the effort you might as well reveal the method. You’ve reduced everything to a mundane level.
If you show everyone how hard you worked to reach your level of skill, all the mystery is gone. Just as a person’s explanations for how David Blaine achieves his effects are more fantastic and creative than the truth, so are their explanations for how talented and skilled you are if they know nothing of the work that went into it.
This lesson is not about why we shouldn’t reveal methods, as we’re all in agreement that such a thing is bad. Rather, it’s about why we must appear natural, fluid, and sublime like the forces of nature.
This creates the added effect of a more intense power just beyond the horizon. If you can do what you do without great strain or effort, imagine what could be accomplished if you were really trying. And perhaps you can even give them a taste of that such as metal bending, spontaneous combustion effects, or even stopping your pulse. These little hints of an even greater power behind your composed façade inspires a note of awe, and perhaps even fear in some people, and they keep coming back to you trying to get another glimpse at it.
All of this must be done with a mild sense of humor however. If you jealously guard the secrets of your strength, people will become suspicious of you. As in Dai Vernon’s cups and balls routine, sometimes a moment of strategically selected disclosure can actually be extremely beneficial.
Just remember that to achieve the sublime you must emulate it.
Let me tell you a little story.
Sen no Rikyu
The Japanese tea ceremony is an important part of the country’s cultural heritage. Once ostentatious and grand, it was stripped down to a Zen-like simplicity by a man named Sen no Rikyu. Rikyu earlier in his life was a monk and embraced the traditional aesthetic of a deep love for nature. He believed that to achieve true grace and power, the best route was to emulate nature.
Nature created sublime beauty in the trees, blossoms, and lakes without ever revealing the eons of work behind any of it. The lightning bolt was awe inspiring and terrifying, but a mystery. The coming of the seasons was a cycle of incredible force and power, but no one then could understand how. The wonder of nature lay in the fact that it never revealed to us its secret workings. It simply was.
Rikyu was notorious for his passive criticisms of the tea ceremony in others. He visited the home of one such host and noted the garden gate looked too out of place. True, the gate was of exquisite craftsmanship and beauty, but it would have to have been imported at great expense from another region. Sure enough, the tea ceremony the host created was similarly pretentious. Rikyu quietly excused himself and left.
He repeated this action later when a different host contrived to prove his cleverness by going out into his garden to cut a fresh lemon to garnish a dish of Osaka rice cake. Rikyu knew however that no man of class and intelligence would think of serving something so expensive without a garnish already. It was too obvious and staged to create the sort of charm the host had intended.
To Rikyu, the height of beauty was the appearance of spontaneous grace. The Japanese love of nature came from a desire to emulate it by approximating its effortlessness. Humans create through contrivance, work, and intellect. But when we pull back the curtain and show all the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every little action, they begin to lose their appeal. The Zen of the tea ceremony is to achieve a moment of tranquility and peace without all the bells and whistles that usually accompany our daily lives.
Talleyrand
Talleyrand was one of France’s greatest politicians in the 19th century. He was a brilliant statesman who managed to pass unscathed through several regime changes and maintain his status as a respect man.
Talleyrand had a penchant for taciturnity, forcing people to speak more around him than they normally would in an effort to keep the conversation going. He had an elaborate network of spies loyal only to him. He was the very picture of composition, never losing his temper and remaining calm and collected in the worst of situations. People began to think he was clairvoyant, or at least possessed of some sort of sixth sense. Either way he seemed to know what no one else knew.
Naturally, his secrets behind the incredible foresight remained so until after his death. If he revealed to people all the hard work he put in behind the scenes, there would be no mystic allure to his insight and people would never trust him again. His efforts had to remain a mystery.
These tactics allowed him to keep his head after the French Revolution, conspire against and overthrow Napolean, and survive the attacks of his enemies throughout his long career. Part of it was his reputation for preternatural awareness of his surroundings and the events therein. People didn’t want to cross him because they had no idea if the conspiracy would go unnoticed or if it would come back to haunt them.
Harry Houdini
Finally, a name all of you recognize instead of obscure footnotes in the history of countries you may never have been to. Relax, I’m being facetious.
Houdini was very careful not to reveal his methods, but more importantly he never revealed the sheer amount of work that went into his act. Everything had drama, and every time he courted death. But by the end he made it all seem like a game. He toyed with his audience as if to say that he was only drawing out these experiences for his own entertainment.
Given any set of locks, Houdini could be out of them in a matter of seconds due to his hours of study in anatomy, the mechanics of locks, and drama. He spent hours ever day working out and stretching to keep in top physical condition. He needed to keep his mind and body at their absolute best in order to continue his act.
But Harry was also intent on creating not just fame, but a legend. To do that, he had to make himself out to be more than human, a superhero. He made sure to never let anyone see the amount of effort he put into his death-defying escapes. They would lose their appeal if people saw that Houdini was a normal human being who just worked really hard.
Several times Harry actually did find himself close to death, such as when he escaped from the belly of an embalmed “sea monster” in 1921. The ether used to preserve the carcass long enough for Houdini to pull off his stunt nearly destroyed his kidneys. But heaven forbid Harry let the press get wind of that in his lifetime. Sure it was exciting to think that he was coming close to death, but to actually see the damage would be like pulling back the curtain and showing how he accomplished his manacle escapes.
Conclusion
It’s tempting to want to let people get a glimpse into how hard we work. It could be from wanting recognition for all our work, or sympathy for the sleepless hours. It’s essentially ego validation.
But if you reveal all the effort you might as well reveal the method. You’ve reduced everything to a mundane level.
If you show everyone how hard you worked to reach your level of skill, all the mystery is gone. Just as a person’s explanations for how David Blaine achieves his effects are more fantastic and creative than the truth, so are their explanations for how talented and skilled you are if they know nothing of the work that went into it.
This lesson is not about why we shouldn’t reveal methods, as we’re all in agreement that such a thing is bad. Rather, it’s about why we must appear natural, fluid, and sublime like the forces of nature.
This creates the added effect of a more intense power just beyond the horizon. If you can do what you do without great strain or effort, imagine what could be accomplished if you were really trying. And perhaps you can even give them a taste of that such as metal bending, spontaneous combustion effects, or even stopping your pulse. These little hints of an even greater power behind your composed façade inspires a note of awe, and perhaps even fear in some people, and they keep coming back to you trying to get another glimpse at it.
All of this must be done with a mild sense of humor however. If you jealously guard the secrets of your strength, people will become suspicious of you. As in Dai Vernon’s cups and balls routine, sometimes a moment of strategically selected disclosure can actually be extremely beneficial.
Just remember that to achieve the sublime you must emulate it.
