There seems to be a frantic energy abroad at the moment. From persistent, record hurricanes pummelling Florida to watching an iconic political party upcycle the remains of a failed administration for approval by a body of people who selected those who brought about their downfall, to all manner of businesses moving fast and breaking things in the hope of winning an investor lottery. There doesn’t seem to be much leadership or reflective thinking going on. If ever we doubted that we were in a period of transition, I don’t think we can doubt it now.
Artisans are different. Why is that? Looking for the right questions is something of an anthropological task; identifying what it is about artisans that separates them from those around them.
They often do similar jobs for similar people, yet they react differently when the pressure is on. It is not always easy - artisans seem to hold themselves accountable to a different conception of work and find it difficult to accept the “move fast and break things” approach - together with its associated culture of testing “minimum viable product” on clients and using them as guinea pigs.
In my last post, I touched on the artisanal ability to observe - to stand back and notice what others, busy pursuing a particular definition of performance, do not and incorporate it into their work. Other qualities with similar “outlier” qualities include care, systemic rather than linear thinking, a sense of “practice”, and a healthy attitude to the generative nature of risk. I’ll return to all of these in future posts, but for today, I want to consider one in particular - the artisanal relationship with capacity.
I wrote a few posts on the same topic last year, including this one, and a little over a year later, it has attracted my attention again, because the organisational response to the frantic energy I mentioned in the header seems to override logic, and any sense of leadership in those we expect to provide guidance and inspiration.
The association was made in a discussion about “frantic energy” with Steve Done when the 70% rule of Qi Gong, an aspect of Chinese Martial Arts, found its way into the conversation. The 70% Rule is a fundamental concept in qigong and tai chi practice. While the exact origin of this principle is not certain, it appears to be a well-established guideline in traditional Chinese martial arts and health practices. The rule states that practitioners should study and practice at 70% of their maximum capacity at any given time, whether measured physically, mentally, or energetically. This approach is in contrast to Western exercise philosophies that often encourage pushing to one's limits, and encourages the frantic energy we were discussing.
A little digging suggests Practicing at 70% capacity offers several benefits:
Injury Prevention: By not overstraining, practitioners reduce the risk of injury, especially during recovery from existing injuries or operations
Gradual and Full Recovery: The 70 percent rule allows recovery to happen gradually and fully, preventing partial healing that could lead to future problems
Improved Learning: Working at a comfortable maximum helps practitioners absorb what they learn more easily
Relaxed Power: Instead of straining to build muscular strength, the 70% rule promotes a feeling of relaxed power by allowing energy to flow freely through loosened muscles
Sustainable Practice: This approach enables practitioners to maintain their practice over long periods without burnout or exhaustion.
When I write it down, it seems so blindingly obvious.
The question it asks regards how artisans find the time and space to evoke their talent and exercise their power when we live in business cultures of frantic urgency,
Not at work, clearly.
We now have enough experience here at New Artisans and Outside the Walls to know how effective regular quiet time can be in connecting to the “thread” we follow.
So we want to do more of that, make it more accessible, and share practice.
We will be gathering on Zoom, on Wednesday 16th October, at 5pm UK time with “The Thread” as our theme.
The Way it is. William Stafford. There's a thread you follow. It goes among things that change. But it doesn't change. People wonder about what you are pursuing. You have to explain about the thread. But it is hard for others to see. While you hold it you can't get lost. Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old. Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding. You don't ever let go of the thread.