w: ajleon

Good Enough

A few months ago I found myself standing at a bar in Azusa waiting for my morning double espresso at what has become one of my favorite coffee shops in the entire world.

I stood there patiently, leaning on the counter, admiring the finger paint on the back of the black bar stools and the canvas of local art hanging on the wall as wafts of a sweet and familiar caffeinated fragrance filled the room. 5 minutes passed. 8 minutes. 10 minutes. After about a 14 minute preamble of listening to the cacophony of beans grinding and the espresso machine whistling, I decide to peak around the counter to see what in the name of Zeus was taking so damn long. I mean, there is not a single soul in this entire shop besides Melissa and I.

There huddled next to the glossy machine was a young barista. She just finished a pour and is looking so intently into the ceramic cup. As if it is trying to tell her something. As if the world depends on it. She turns. Shows it to the head barista, who quickly surveys it and signals for her to dump it. This almost choreographed routine happens again and again. And I just watch the craftsmanship in amazement.

7 minutes later, I get my espresso.

It was worth it.

____

Good Enough is never the right decision.

Ever.

Produce your best work every single time. Or produce nothing. Anything in the middle is a waste of your time and our attention.

The cold pressed truth that you and I both know is that no one gives a shit about B+ work.

And more importantly, it is below you.

If you’ve been given the opportunity to live in a time and in a place where survival is not your biggest obstacle. Where you can create. Where you can imagine things and actually make them. Then it seems like a squandered opportunity to do anything other than your absolute finest.

So when you finally do hit the publish button or walk the latte over to the table or send the script off to your editor or submit the collateral for the new campaign or stand up to deliver the presentation at the next meeting just make sure that every last ounce of your sweat and DNA is in it. Stay up all night. Work until it’s pixel perfect. Do it like the world depends on it.

We will cherish it.

We will tell the world about it.

And, most importantly, we will expect more of it.

 

From Stratford upon Avon

Your Fellow Misfit

AJ

434 words

1.13.14

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