This weekend, I was meant to be somewhere sunny, on a proper Easter holiday break. Instead, I found myself exactly where I needed to be - working quietly toward a new deadline, chipping away at the kind of progress no one else sees but you feel deep in your bones.
Being self-employed, especially on the creative path, means moving to a different rhythm. Sometimes it means taking a slow morning when the rest of the world is rushing. Other times, it means working through the holidays, no "out of office" set, tending to the work like a marathon runner tends to the miles — quietly, persistently, with no fanfare.
This weekend reminded me that the small, invisible wins, the ones no one applauds - are where real satisfaction and love for the craft live.
And it made me think about standards.
I'm reading Clear Thinking by Shane Parrish at the moment, and one idea struck me deeply:
"Champions don’t create standards of excellence. Standards of excellence create champions."
The reminder is simple:
Standards create habits.
Habits create routines.
Routines create outcomes.
Outcomes create champions.
Sometimes I want a home run on the first go. This week, I delivered a piece of work that needed more. The client’s feedback - though frustrating at first - sent me back to the drawing board without a clear solution. It was humbling.
But it forced a deeper truth: when you care about the integrity of your work, you don’t walk away at the first sign of difficulty.
You stay. You listen. You figure it out.
Another lesson from Clear Thinking that stayed with me:
"Results are a function of position. You don't need to be smarter than others to outperform them if you can out-position them."
The best-positioned individuals aren't the loudest or the busiest - they are the ones who create space between stimulus and response. They pause. They think clearly. They position themselves wisely.
In a world obsessed with intelligence and speed, the people who win are often the ones who create space — space between stimulus and response, space between discomfort and decision.
The ones who don’t have to react, but instead position themselves.
On Sunday, needing a new kind of space, I caught a train to the Tate and sat in front of a Rothko. No notebook. No camera. No plan. Just sitting there, breathing with the colour and the silence. Asking quietly: What would *Insert your fave Gremlin artist* do when they feel stuck? What would someone with clear thinking choose next?
The answer wasn't loud or dramatic. It was subtle: Return to the standard. Return to the practice. Return to clarity.
It’s in the quiet choices made in solitude, the standards upheld without applause, and the continuous pursuit of growth that the future is shaped. There’s a tender elegance in these moments — the ones no one notices, but which define everything.
These are the small, invisible things.
The ones that accumulate.
Until then, we work.
From The Factory >
This week in the studio.
Prompts >
JOURNAL:
Ask yourself: What would it look like if I responded to discomfort not with urgency, but with calm strategy? What safeguards or rituals can I build to protect that space?
LEARN:
Ask someone you respect: How do you create space for clear thinking when emotions run high?
ACTION
Choose one trigger you know you often face, and write a 3-step personal 'response plan’.
Musings >
"Between stimulus and response there is a space.
In that space is our power to choose our response.
In our response lies our growth and our freedom."
- Viktor E. Frankl"You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems."
- James Clear“A strong spirit transcends rules.”
- Prince
