Only the Trying: Letting Go of Outcomes
Created at: October 13, 2025
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. — T. S. Eliot
Effort as Our Proper Domain
Eliot’s line distills a sober freedom: our responsibility lies in the work, not the result. By separating the will to act from the fate of outcomes, he invites us to inhabit the narrow but real territory of control. This stance resists both perfectionism and fatalism—urging steady effort while refusing the tyranny of guarantees. Thus, the quote does not excuse indifference; rather, it reframes diligence as fidelity to the task itself, where integrity is measured by sustained attention and honest labor.
Wartime Origins in Four Quartets
The sentence appears in East Coker, part of T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets (first published across 1936–1942; collected 1943). Written amid the Second World War, when Eliot served as a fire watcher in London, the lines carried a wartime austerity: civilians could sandbag, ration, and rebuild—but not command the sky. In that context, “only the trying” became moral ballast, a way to anchor daily action when outcomes—survival, victory, peace—were terrifyingly contingent. The poem thus turns stoic acceptance into public counsel.
Ancient Precedents: Gita and Stoicism
Eliot’s wisdom echoes older traditions. The Bhagavad Gita 2:47 counsels: you have a right to action, but not to its fruits—a formulation of disciplined agency without attachment. Likewise, Epictetus’ Enchiridion 1 distinguishes what is “up to us” (judgment, intention) from what is not (reputation, outcome). Drawing this boundary does not shrink ambition; instead, it concentrates effort where it can matter, transforming uncertainty from paralysis into permission to act.
Creativity and the Discipline of Practice
Artists long intuit this creed. Samuel Beckett’s Worstward Ho (1983) urges, “Try again. Fail again. Fail better,” a mantra that relocates progress from result to iteration. In the same spirit, Ira Glass’s advice to beginners (c. 2009) frames the early years as producing volumes of work to close the gap between taste and ability. Seen this way, Eliot’s “trying” is craft: deliberate practice, revision, and release—then the courage to begin again.
Psychological Grounding: Mindset and Control
Modern psychology supplies mechanisms behind the maxim. Carol Dweck’s Mindset (2006) shows that a growth mindset—valuing effort and strategies over innate talent—predicts persistence and learning. Similarly, Julian Rotter’s locus-of-control research (1966) links well-being to focusing on controllable factors. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (Hayes, Strosahl, and Wilson, 1999) adds that committed action aligned with values, while accepting uncertainty and discomfort, reduces avoidance and increases meaningful progress. Altogether, the science endorses Eliot’s practical stoicism.
Systems Over Goals in Modern Work
Translating the idea to contemporary work, systems trump fixation on singular goals. James Clear’s Atomic Habits (2018) and Scott Adams’ “systems” argument (2013) both suggest designing repeatable processes—inputs you can control—rather than obsessing over outcomes. In entrepreneurship, Eric Ries’ The Lean Startup (2011) makes the same move with “validated learning,” where small experiments replace grand bets. Across domains, shifting attention from results to routines preserves momentum and reduces the demoralization of delayed or uncertain payoffs.
Humility, Duty, and Hope
Finally, the ethic scales beyond the self. Pirkei Avot 2:16 teaches, “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it,” a communal analogue to Eliot’s line. In climate action, public health, or community care, outcomes unfold over decades and across many hands. Even so, steady contributions—showing up, organizing, tending—create the conditions for good to emerge. Thus the trying becomes a civic hope: humble, persistent, and truly ours.