Tonight I am remembering the oft-cited G.K. Chesterton quotation, “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.”
It is seems to me that some of the things I find particularly worth doing and so that remain worth doing, even badly, are: studying new languages, attempting new skills, and learning more about cultural and religious traditions.
In the clip above, I was on a coffee plantation tour in Mexico when I stopped to attempt to make tortillas.
As you can see, it went rather badly.
As you can also see, I was smiling quite a lot and found it worth doing.
What is it about certain things that make them worthwhile even if we are not excellent at them?
In one of his letters, the poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:
But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in Poe’s stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode.
I very much like the translation of Luke 17:33 which says: “Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.”
In juxtaposition, it becomes clear to us: we are made for “that dangerous insecurity [that] is so much more human.”
The “certain security” of only doing those things that we can do well is tantamount to a loss of life.