Astonish Yourself: Paint With Patience and Persistence
Let patience be your brush and persistence your color; create a life that astonishes you. — Rainer Maria Rilke
Rilke’s Painterly Imperative
Rilke frames life as a studio where time and tenacity become creative tools. By calling patience a brush and persistence a color, he reimagines success as the quiet accumulation of strokes rather than a single grand gesture. This ethic echoes his counsel in Letters to a Young Poet (1903–08), where he urges “living the questions” until answers ripen. Thus, astonishment is not an accident; it is the natural sheen that appears when steady practice meets sustained devotion.
Patience: The Art of the Long Stroke
Patience governs tempo—the willingness to slow down, to prepare the surface, and to honor negative space. Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling (1508–1512) shows how duration yields depth; each panel converses with the next because time allowed vision to mature. Likewise, in calligraphy or gardening, restraint makes room for coherence. When we accept the pace of honest work, we stop forcing brilliance and start letting it accrue.
Persistence: Color Laid in Many Layers
If patience controls the stroke, persistence saturates the palette. Angela Duckworth’s Grit (2016) argues that sustained effort over years predicts achievement more reliably than talent alone. Consider Vincent van Gogh, who produced over 800 oil paintings and hundreds of drawings in a single decade; his vibrancy arises from repeated attempts, revisions, and series. With each pass, color deepens, and what once seemed tentative becomes unmistakably alive.
Astonishment Without Spectacle
Rilke’s astonishment is less about fireworks than about wonder reawakened by faithful attention. Abraham Joshua Heschel’s idea of “radical amazement” (Man Is Not Alone, 1951) suggests that awe blooms when we notice the ordinary with uncommon care. In parallel, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow (1990) shows that when challenge meets skill, absorption follows; the result feels surprising not because it is loud, but because it is fully alive to the moment.
Building Systems That Keep You Painting
To translate ideals into practice, design for repetition. Peter Gollwitzer’s research on implementation intentions (1999) shows that simple if–then plans—“If it’s 7 a.m., then I draft for 25 minutes”—dramatically raise follow-through. Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit (2012) calls these keystone habits: small routines that cascade into bigger change. Reduce friction, batch distractions, and schedule recovery, so the brush returns to the canvas almost automatically.
Embracing Imperfection as Luminous Texture
A life that astonishes rarely looks pristine; it looks worked. The Japanese art of kintsugi (15th century) repairs broken pottery with lacquer and gold, making cracks the new pattern rather than flaws to hide. Likewise, drafts, detours, and relaunches can become highlight lines when we learn from them. By treating setbacks as material, not verdicts, persistence keeps adding layers until the surface gleams with meaning.