This is a story for those whose only similarity with Einstein is the mess on their desk.
The photo of the great physicist's desk was taken a few hours after his death, on April 28, 1955, in Princeton, New Jersey.
The Myth of the Master
All human culture is based on archetypes. Ancient Greek myths, great novels, 'Game of Thrones' â the same images, or using IT terminology, 'templates,' appear to us again and again. This idea has already become a commonplace: the existence of a single foundation for the roots of all stories in the world has been noted by both the author of 'The Hero with a Thousand Faces' and numerous postmodernists, who began weaving long-told tales like biblical plots and those same myths about Zeus, Heracles, and Perseus into new contexts.
One of these archetypes is the person who has mastered their craft to perfection. A virtuoso. A guru. Bulgakov, in his most famous novel, straightforwardly named such a hero the Master. The first example that comes to mind of such a virtuoso is the brilliant detective capable of investigating a case and finding the perpetrator based on a few seemingly unrelated, very indirect clues. This is such a cliché plot that one might wonder: how long can it still be interesting to read/watch on screen? But agree: such a story remains captivating. And that means that, for some reason, we are concerned with the image of a person who has achieved perfection in their craft.
In fact, this archetype is one of the most intriguing for us, even if we are not always ready to admit it. Just in the past few weeks, I have been part of conversations about mastery twice. In the first case, I watched a fairly typical but very engaging action movie about a brilliant detective, and I heard from one of the nearby seats: âI also want to understand my profession as well as he does.â. In the second case, a friend of mine started discussing the idea that you will always encounter someone on your path who understands your craft better than you do. These genuine reactions and conversations from real life show how strong our desire is to become the best in our field. But how to achieve that? And why? Letâs try to figure it out.
How a scrawny guy became the 'Wizard'
Returning to the question of detectives. I have already discussed this in another article of mine the issue of the role erudition plays in our lives. As an example, I cited the range of competencies of Sherlock Holmes, described in "A Study in Scarlet" â a detailed list (provided at the very beginning of that article) compiled by the well-known Dr. Watson, Holmes's companion. As we can see, Holmes's erudition was not broad â but his knowledge in areas related to his immediate profession was extremely deep. He was interested in anything that could potentially help him trace a lead. Everything else he left aside.
Why is this moment so important? Because it gives us the key to understanding the phenomenon of Sherlock. So why was he so successful in his profession? Was he born a genius? No, he simply became a virtuoso through continuous self-improvement.
I want to tell the story of an athlete who, being one of the most prolific Russian players in the National Hockey League (North America), was recognized as one of the one hundred greatest players in that league. The only hockey player in the world to have won the Olympics, the World Championship, the Stanley Cup, and the Gagarin Cup. These are dry, encyclopedic facts. But to understand the true greatness of this player, it's best to watch a few moments of his game. So, meet Pavel Datsyuk, who was nicknamed "The Magic Man" by his NHL colleagues, as well as "Houdini," named after one of the greatest magicians in history.
Have you seen how skillfully he maneuvers around three or four opponents? Or how he makes goalies nervous during a shootout? With what speed and agility he moves?
Datsyuk is fascinating not just because he plays brilliantly. His playing style is marked by two things. First, he plays smartly. He not only knows how to calculate the flow of the game, but he is also a good psychologist. Datsyuk can make an opponent fall without even touching him. Second, he is simply a virtuoso with his stick and skates. This allows him to score, for example, even from behind the goal line (from a negative angle). And as we can see from the following video, this is not just a natural gift â it is the result of targeted training.
Pavel is not a particularly large hockey player, unlike, say, Ovechkin or Malkin, who are more well-known. And he clearly did not possess innate talent: in his childhood, he was not considered a talented hockey player, and he was drafted into the NHL (the annual selection of young players into the League) at number 171 â that is, very far from being the best rookie of that year. Many initially , what he was actually doing on the ice! Until in his third playing year he tripled the number of goals scored in a season. All of this tells us that the "Wizard" has truly trained himself. I think that during his training, he simply set new goals for himself, constantly pushing himself towards continuous improvement. Otherwise, he wouldn't have mastered the puck so virtuously and moved so elegantly on the ice. He jokingly mentioned in one of his interviews with American journalists that in his youth in Russia, he only had money for one puck, so he had to learn to handle it for as long as possible.
Why strive to be the best?
Datsyuk is just one example of how a person can achieve extraordinary results in their favorite field through self-improvement. At the beginning of the article, we talked a lot about literature â let's remember the writer Nabokov, who wrote his most famous work, "Lolita," originally in English and then translated it into Russian. Can you imagine someone whose native language is Russian learning French so well that they can think in it, and English to the extent that they write novels? I have been living abroad for 8 years, and life still regularly throws me into the fire of shame over my vocabulary. But language is not my profession. Unlike Nabokov.
Success in a profession is actually more important than we think. And it is measured not just in money. I would even say that money can throw off the compass of professional goals, which may be directed towards a different north. I donât want to be unsubstantiated, but I can't currently cite research showing that employee motivation is determined not only by monetary incentives (if you wish, you can dig through the archives of publications like "Harvard Business Review"). To gain satisfaction from work, we need something more. And that other north could be the desire to be the best in our field. Considering that we spend a significant portion of our lives (excluding sleep) at work, it would be nice to feel satisfied in our workplace and in our profession overall.
People throughout their existence have been trying to find happiness. Even the Ukrainian philosopher Skovoroda understood back in the 18th century that happiness in life comes from happiness at work (and he certainly wasnât the first to realize this): "To be happy means to know oneself and one's nature, to take on one's share, and to do one's own work.It's important not to perceive this call as a universal truth or a magnificent formula for solving all problems. However, I believe that if we aim for continuous professional self-improvement, it is indeed possible that we can become a little happier. By setting high standards for ourselves and conquering them time and again, we may derive more joy from our work. Perhaps this will also bring us serenity (since we will have a dear haven in our hearts), self-confidence, and even a sense of gratitude. In the book "A Samurai Without a Sword," there is a story about a Japanese samurai who eventually became the ruler of the country, but started out by simply bringing his lord his slippersâand he tried to perform this duty better than anyone else, no matter how funny that sounds to us.
I don't casually use the word "craft." Work is rarely spectacular. Mostly, it is a challenging and quite dull routine.
The path to becoming the best is not an easy one. The human brain to follow the path of least resistance. It likes to receive immediate rewards. Therefore, on the way to conquering heights, one must strain all their will. However, itâs possible to get into the habit of doing whatever you do wellâafter all, the brain tends to adapt.
They say humanity is currently experiencing an "era of narcissists." The desire to become the best in one's profession often gives off an unmistakable sense of vanity and self-love. Well, so be it! Letâs admit it to ourselves: feeling superior is nice. As long as it is justified and doesnât undermine your footing. And without a doubt, sooner or later, someone will emerge who is still better than you. This will only mean that itâs too early to stop.
I donât know how to find my "own" craft. , that "the desire to understand what I wantâthis is a trap"; that "sitting down, thinking, figuring it out and understanding what you actually want is almost impossible". Others , itâs quite simple to ask the right questions, like: if you had only a year to live, how would you spend it? If you had enough money to live comfortably, what career would you choose? I donât know who is right, and I truly donât know how people find their lifeâs work. But I've seen people whose eyes light up from the very act of working. And Iâve witnessed hockey players from a currently struggling team, barely crawling across the ice with indifferent faces, hopelessly losing to a weak opponent. 'Donât they want to play better?' I wondered at that moment.
This is not just a story about work. It's really about life. Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic movement, declared: 'Faster, Higher, Stronger.' It doesnât matter what youâre doingâprogramming, scoring goals, writing texts, or simply preparing dinner for your loved oneâstrive to do it as best as you can. Itâs not about actually becoming the best. Itâs about not standing still, not getting stuck in the mud, and enjoying your work. Itâs not about becoming; itâs about striving. And even if youâre not a genius, and your only resemblance to Einstein is the mess on your desk, remember there was a guy who started 171st and ended up first.
Source: habr.com
