The Mirror Up to Nature

Weekly wisdom to level up your creative life in 3 minutes, for free.

A SHORT STORY

This summer, Patrick and I are spending our Sundays leading students step by step through Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.

Each time I encounter Shakespeare, I’m humbled all over again by his curiosity. What John Keats called his “negative capability”—the ability to embrace uncertainty, mystery, and doubt without rushing toward resolution or demanding answers.

Shakespeare had that rare capacity to create richly nuanced characters and situations without imposing an idea or judgement on the character. He let contradiction breathe. He allowed the audience in.

By placing the mirror up to nature and allowing life to be complex, we can then see ourselves more clearly.

It reminds me that art, at its best, doesn't solve complexity. It holds it.

And that feels like a trait we need now more than ever.

I recently came upon a story about the author G.K. Chesterton that sums it up beautifully.

When The Times asked a group of thinkers to respond to the question, “What’s wrong with the world?” G.K. Chesterton simply wrote:

That’s the heart of it.

And so we gather, not to fix the world, but to face it—together, with curiosity.

Where are you being invited to hold complexity rather than resolve it?

A POEM

“The Paradox” by Sarah Kay

When I am inside writing,
all I can think about is how I should be outside living.

When I am outside living,
all I can do is notice all there is to write about.

When I read about love, I think I should be out loving.
When I love, I think I need to read more.

I am stumbling in pursuit of grace,
I hunt patience with a vengeance.

On the mornings when my brother’s tired muscles
held to the pillow, my father used to tell him,

For every moment you aren’t playing basketball,
someone else is on the court practicing.

I spend most of my time wondering
if I should be somewhere else.

So I have learned to shape the words thank you
with my first breath each morning, my last breath every night.

When the last breath comes, at least I will know I was thankful
for all the places I was so sure I was not supposed to be.

All those places I made it to,
all the loves I held, all the words I wrote.
And even if it is just for one moment,
I will be exactly where I am supposed to be.

Grateful,

Michael