You don't need the whole picture to begin

On willpower, surrender, and letting go of the outcome

I recently listened to someone whose beliefs and way of thinking I recognize deeply, as he described how he became a writer. As a young man, he simply started practicing with words every day, long before he had anything to say. He wrote without a subject, just to be writing. He built small but very concrete habits into his daily life to help him progress. Today his books have found their readers, and around them a whole movement has grown, and you can feel that it is right, that it was meant to be.

What struck me most is that he didn't know exactly what he was manifesting. By manifesting I mean bringing something into being by consistently directing your intention and energy toward it. He simply directed his willpower in one direction, consistently, without holding on to the envisioned end result. He naturally applied the golden combination of dynamic willpower and surrender at the same time: giving everything to the direction, while letting go of what it would or should turn into. Possibly without even being consciously aware of that specific mechanism.

It made me think of my own situation, and I believe there’s a valuable lesson in it for many of us. For about ten years, I have been developing work that comes naturally to me: writings, exercises and ideas in pursuit of understanding the authentic, happy, and meaningful life. Some of it has found its way to stages, trainings and mentoring. But 90% of it still lives in Google Drive, notebooks, the Post-its on my cabinet and a mind that keeps throwing new explorations at me.

For a long time I thought this was about finishing what I start, but listening to this writer, I realized something deeper. Before I allow myself to share anything I work on, I want to see the whole picture: the frame it belongs in, what comes after it, where it all leads eventually. Even though that contradicts my own knowledge and beliefs. Perspective is my strongest character strength (VIA Character Strengths). Seeing and exploring how everything connects is what I’ve always naturally done. But a strength that is overused becomes a limitation. I only allow myself to move when I get the whole right. But with this level of curiosity, you never get the whole right upfront, because it has no end.

Your version may look different, like waiting until you are an expert before you speak, or until you meet every requirement before you apply for a job. The mechanism is the same. No one becomes an expert in silence, and most people grow into a role after they start it. What you know doesn’t need to be perfect. It only needs to be enough for the next step, or to move someone one step further.

The best description of what this looks like for me came from a “compliment” that stuck with me, probably because it came from a poet. Years back, when I was feeling a bit down, I set myself the task of drafting a list of life’s beauty, as comprehensive and as short as possible. It became a seven-point list. In one of the very few conversations we’ve had, I shared it with him. He told me: you have a kaleidoscopic mind. That is exactly what it looks like in my head: everything connects and interacts, everything sparks everything else to move. I say “compliment,” because if he meant I sounded slightly insane, that would also make sense.

But a mind like that never runs out of whole to see, and that is exactly what keeps the work on my desk. In a way, that is fine. The work initially only exists because of my personal exploration to begin with, and it has given me a much better understanding of life's bigger questions and helped me build a more meaningful, authentic and happy life. But it also may very well do the same for others, and helping others get there is what I see as my life’s purpose.
The writer from my intro had no frame and no follow-up. He had direction and a daily act. The frame only became visible afterward. This felt so clear and effective and probably a much stronger framework for manifestation, as leaving things unfinished and letting your attention be pulled in many directions surely is not it.

Everything I think, write and teach about comes down to defaults. By defaults I mean the choices we make without choosing: the parts we inherited or slid into, and keep following because we never questioned them. Default is what fills the space when no decision has been made. My work is about replacing default with intention.

Needing to see the whole picture before beginning is one of those defaults, this time disguised as carefulness. You can sell waiting until everything is complete as being responsible, but it is not the path that gets you anywhere. It is trying to control a narrative you are not in charge of. You can only take charge in pursuit of where it leads. The overview comes afterward.

The ancient Chinese philosopher Zhuangzi tells of Butcher Ding, who carved with such skill that his knife never touched bone. After nineteen years of use, it was still as sharp as the day he got it, because it never had to force its way through anything. He explains that when he first began, all he could see was the whole ox: one solid mass, with no way in. After three years, he no longer saw the whole ox. He saw the joints and the spaces between them, where one part meets the next. He stopped relying on his eyes and on what he thought he knew, and let his knife follow the openings that were already there. He reached that level of skill not by understanding everything first, but by learning to stop dividing the world into fixed categories, and to sense how it actually moves. And whenever he came to a difficult spot, he did not rush. He slowed down, looked closely, and moved with care.

This does not mean letting go of rigor. But completeness before beginning is wanting to determine the outcome, when surrender asks us to let go of the outcome and hold on to the direction. By surrender I don’t mean giving up, but accepting that how things turn out was never ours to decide, as we can’t fight what already is. That acceptance is essential to joyful living, as well as to manifestation. And holding on to the direction is often easier than we think, because most of us already know what it is. What we lack is not the full picture, but the trust to move without it.

The same mechanism works at every scale. Over a lifetime, it means following what feels right without knowing where it leads, and trusting that the line woll show itself in hindight. In a single day, it ca be as small as starting a piece of writing before you know how it ends, and letting the first words show you what you actually want to say. In both cases, you hold on to the direction and let of of knowing in advance what it should become, or what you should become.

You do not need to see the whole picture to begin. The whole reveals itself once you stop holding back and dedicate yourself to what is at hand.

If you’re reading this, I succeeded at least somewhat at letting go of the whole and proceeding with the direction, while I’m probably still feeling the pressure of also letting you know all the other teachings, backgrounds and follow-ups that come into play here. Wishing I could draw you a map of “how to hack a meaningful life” all at once.