Borrowing from the Masters:

Action Not Inspiration Builds Mastery.

Above my desk, pinned to the wall where I can't avoid it, there's a scrap of paper with a quote from Paulo Coelho:

"One day you will wake up and there won't be any more time to do the things you've always wanted. Do it now."

It's the first thing I see when I sit down, whether the day feels promising or impossibly dull. And if I'm honest, I need the reminder as much as anyone.

We like to think that the greats, those master builders, architects, artists, the ones who leave something behind, are guided by inspiration. That they're different from us because the muse visits them at sunrise, while we're still fumbling for coffee. But that's not how real work gets made.

They say, Frank Lloyd Wright sketched Falling water in a frenzy because the client was on their way, not because he felt especially moved.

Isamu Noguchi carved stone every day, even when nothing "flowed.

" Old-timers on the job would shrug and say, "Put your boots on. The rest will follow.”

The myth is that action comes from inspiration. The truth is, inspiration is drawn out by action. The masters don't wait to feel ready.

They pick up their tools, brush, pencil, hammer, broom, out of habit, not hope.

Every day, they make a small offering to the craft:

Sweep the floor. Sharpen the pencils. Lay out the plans. Hammer a nail, even when the body aches and the spirit drags. In these repetitive motions, the work begins to stir. The magic, if it comes, comes only to those already in motion.

Borrow from the masters.

Show up. Move your hands. Start the work.

Whatever muse you're waiting for, she only finds you after you start.

Field Note:

"The masters did not wait for permission or the perfect mood. They picked up their tools and got to work. The muse visits those who are already moving."