Notes & Major Points

The War of Art: Break through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles Steven Pressfield

Introduction

Book 1: Resistance, Defining the Enemy

Book 2: Combating Resistance, Turning Pro

Book 3: Beyond Resistance, Higher Realm

ISBN: 9781936891023

CSULB Library Permalink: https://csu-lb.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01CALS_ULB/d7ul0l/alma991000544599702910

Pressfield, Steven. The War of Art: Break through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles. First Black Irish Entertainment paperback edition., Black Irish Entertainment, LLC, 2012.

THE UNLIVED l I f E

M ost of us have two lives. The life we live, and

the unlived life within us. Between the two

stands Resistance.

Have you ever brought home a treadmill and let it gather

dust in the attic? Ever quit a diet, a course of yoga, a medita­

tion practice? Have you ever bailed out on a call to embark

upon a spiritual practice, dedicate yourself to a humanitarian

calling, commit your life to the service of others? Have you

ever wanted to be a mother, a doctor, an advocate for the

weak and helpless; to run for office, crusade for the planet,

campaign for world peace, or to preserve the environment?

Late at night have you experienced a vision of the person you

might become, the work you could accomplish, the realized

being you were meant to be? Are you a writer who doesn't

write, a painter who doesn't paint, an entrepreneur who

never starts a venture? Then you know what Resistance is.

One night I was layin' down,

I heard Papa talkin' to Mama.

I heard Papa say, to let that boy boogie-woogie.

'Cause it's in him and it's got to come out.

-John Lee Hooker, "Boogie Chillen"

Resistance is the most toxic force on the planet. It is the

root of more unh~ppiness than poverty, disease, and erectile

dysfunction. To yield to Resistance deforms our spirit. It

stunts us and makes us less than we are and were born to be.

If you believe in God (and I do) you must declare Resistance

evil, for it prevents us from achieving the life God intended

when He endowed each of us with our own unique genius.

Genius is a Latin word; the Romans used it to denote an inner

spirit, holy and inviolable, which watches over us, guiding

us to our calling. A writer writes with his genius; an artist

paints with hers; everyone who creates operates from this

sacramental center. It is our soul's seat, the vessel that holds

our being-in-potential, our star's beacon and Polaris.

Every sun casts a shadow, and genius's shadow is

Resistance. As powerful as is our soul's call to realization, so

potent are the forces of Resistance arrayed against it.

Resistance is faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful

than a locomotive, harder to kick than crack cocaine.

We're not alone if we've been mowed down by Resistance;

millions of good men and women have bitten the dust before

us. And here's the biggest bitch: We don't even know what

hit us. I never did. From age twenty-four to thirty-two,

Resistance kicked my ass from East Coast to West and back

again thirteen times and I never even knew it existed. I

looked everywhere for the enemy and failed to see it

right in front of my face.

Have you heard this story: Woman learns she has cancer,

six months to live. Within days she quits her job, resumes

the dream of writing Tex-Mex songs she gave up to raise a

family (or starts studying classical Greek, or moves to the

inner city and devotes herself to tending babies with

AIDS). Woman's friends think she's crazy; she herself has

never been happier. There's a postscript. Woman's cancer

goes into remission.

Is that what it takes? Do we have to stare death in the face

to make us stand up and confront Resistance? Does

Resistance have to cripple and disfigure our lives before we

wake up to its existence? How many of us have become

drunks and drug addicts, developed tumors and neuroses,

succumbed to painkillers, gossip, and compulsive cell-phone

use, simply because we don't do that thing that our hearts,

our inner genius, is calling us to? Resistance defeats us. If

tomorrow morning by some stroke of magic every dazed

and benighted soul woke up with the power to take the first

step toward pursuing his or her dreams, every shrink in the

directory would be out of business. Prisons would stand

empty. The alcohol and tobacco industries would collapse,

along with the junk food, cosmetic surgery, and infotainment

businesses, not to mention pharmaceutical companies,

hospitals, and the medical profession from top to bottom.

Domestic abuse would become extinct, as would addiction,

obesity, migraine headaches, road rage, and dandruff.

Look in your own heart. Unless I'm crazy, right now a

still small voice is piping up, telling you as it has ten thousand

times, the calling that is yours and yours alone. You know

it. No one has to tell you. And unless I'm crazy, you're no

closer to taking action on it than you were yesterday or will

be tomorrow. You think Resistance isn't real? Resistance

will bury you.

You know, Hitler wanted to be an artist. At eighteen he

took his inheritance, seven hundred kronen, and moved to

Vienna to live and study. He applied to the Academy of Fine

Arts and later to the School of Architecture. Ever see one of

his paintings? Neither have I. Resistance beat him. Call it

overstatement but I'll say it anyway: it was easier for Hitler

to start World War II than it was for him to face a blank

square of canvas.

BOOK ONE

RESISTANCE Defining the Enemy

RESISTANCE'S GREATEST HITS

T he following is a list, in no particular order, of those

activities that most commonly elicit Resistance:

1) The pursuit of any calling in writing, painting, music,

film, dance, or any creative art, however marginal or

unconventional.

2) The launching of any entrepreneurial venture or

enterprise, for profit or otherwise.

3) Any diet or health regimen.

4) Any program of spiritual advancement.

5) Any activity whose aim is tighter abdominals.

6) Any course or program designed to overcome an

unwholesome habit or addiction.

7) Education of every kind.

8) Any act of political, moral, or ethical courage, including

the decision to change for the better some unworthy

pattern of thought or conduct in ourselves.

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 05

9) The undertaking of any enterprise or endeavor whose

aim is to help others.

10) Any act that entails commitment of the heart. The

decision to get married, to have a child, to weather a

rocky patch in a relationship.

11) The taking of any principled stand in the face of adversity.

In other words, any act that rejects immediate gratification in

favor of long-term growth, health, or integrity. Or,

expressed another way, any act that derives from our higher

nature instead of our lower. Any of these wiH elicit

Resistance.

Now: what are the characteristics of Resistance?

06 I THE WAR DF _ ART

RESISTANCE IS INVISIBLE

Resistance cannot be seen, touched, heard, or smelled.

But it can be felt. We experience it as an energy field

radiating from a work-in-potential. It's a repelling force.

It's negative. Its aim is to shove us away, distract us, prevent

us from doing our work.

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 07

RESISTANCE AND PROCRASTINATION

Procrastination is the most common manifestation

of Resistance because it's the easiest to rationalize.

We don't tell ourselves, ''I'm never going to write my

symphony." Instead we say, "I am going to write my

symphony; I'm just going to start tomorrow."

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 21

RESISTANCE AND PROCRASTINATION,

PART TWO

T he most pernicious aspect of procrastination is that it

can become a habit. We don't just put off our lives

today; we put them off till our deathbed.

Never forget: This very moment, we can change our lives.

There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are

without the power to alter our destiny. This second, we can

turn the tables on Resistance.

This second, we can sit down and do our work.

22 I THE WAR OF ART

RESISTANCE AND SEX

S ometimes Resistance takes the form of sex, or an

obsessive preoccupation with sex. Why sex? Because

sex provides immediate and powerful gratification. When

someone sleeps with us, we feel validated and approved of,

even loved. Resistance gets a big kick out of that. It knows

it has distracted us with a cheap, easy fix and kept us from

doing our work.

Of course not all sex is a manifestation of Resistance. In

my experience, you can tell by the measure of hollowness

you feel afterward. The more empty you feel, the more

certain you can be that your true motivation was not

love or even lust but Resistance.

It goes without saying that this principle applies to

drugs, shopping, masturbation, TV, gossip, alcohol, and

the consumption of all products containing fat , sugar,

salt, or chocolate.

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 23

RESISTANCE AND SELF-MEDICATION

D o you regularly ingest any substance, controlled or

otherwise, whose aim is the alleviation of depression,

anxiety, etc.? I offer the following experience:

I once worked as a writer for a big New York ad agency.

Our boss used to tell us: Invent a disease. Come up with the

disease, he said, and we can sell the cure.

Attention Deficit Disorder, Seasonal Affect Disorder,

Social Anxiety Disorder. These aren't diseases, they're

marketing ploys. Doctors didn't discover them, copywriters

did. Marketing departments did. Drug companies did.

Depression and anxiety may be real. But they can also

be Resistance.

When we drug ourselves to blot out our soul's call, we

are being good Americans and exemplary consumers. We're

doing exactly what TV commercials and pop materialist

culture have been brainwashing us to do from birth. Instead

of applying self-knowledge, self-discipline, delayed gratifi­

cation, and hard work, we simply consume a product.

Many pedestrians have been maimed or killed at the

intersection of Resistance and Commerce.

26 I THE WAR OF ART

RESISTANCE AND VICTIMHOOD

D oct~rs est~mate that seventy to eighty percent of their

business 1s non-health-related. People aren't sick,

they're self-dramatizing. Sometimes the hardest part of a

medical job is keeping a straight face. As Jerry Seinfeld

observed of his twenty years of dating: "That's a lot of

acting fascinated."

The acquisition of a condition lends significance to one's

existence. An illness, a cross to bear ... Some people go from

condition to condition; they cure one, and another pops up to

take its place. The condition becomes a work of art in itself '

a shadow version of the real creative act the victim is

avoiding by expending so much care cultivating his condition.

A victim act is a form of passive aggression. It seeks to

achieve gratification not by honest work or a contribution

made out of one's experience or insight or love, but by the

manipulation of others through silent (and not-so-silent)

threat. The victim compels others to come to his rescue or to

behave as he wishes by holding them hostage to the prospect

of his own further illness/ meltdown/ mental dissolution or '

simply by threatening to make their lives so miserable that

they do what he wants.

STEVEN PRESSFIELO I 27

RESISTANCE AND FEAR

Are you paralyzed with fear? That's a good sign.

Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells

us what we have to do.

Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we

are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that

we have to do it.

Resistance is experienced as fear; the degree of fear

equates to the strength of Resistance. Therefore the more

fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we

can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the

growth of our soul. That's why we feel so much Resistance.

If it meant nothing to us, there'd be no Resistance.

Have you ever watched Inside the Actors Studio?

The host, James Lipton, invariably asks his guests, "What

factors make you decide to take a particular role?" The

actor always answers: "Because I'm afraid of it."

The professional tackles the project that will make him

stretch. He takes on the assignment that will bear him into

uncharted waters, compel him to explore unconscious parts

of himself.

40 I THE w AR OF ART

Is he scared? Hell, yes. He's petrified.

(Conversely, the professional turns down roles that he's

done before. He's not afraid of them anymore. Why waste

his time?)

So if you're paralyzed with fear, it's a good sign. It shows

you what you have to do.

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 41

BOOK TWO

COMBATING

RESISTANCE Turning Pro

A PROFESSIONAL

S omeone once asked Somerset Maugham if he wrote on a

schedule or only when struck by inspiration. "I write

only when inspiration strikes," he replied. "Fortunately it

strikes every morning at nine o'clock sharp."

That's a pro.

In terms of Resistance, Maugham was saying, "I despise

Resistance; I will not let it faze me; I will sit down and

do my work."

Maugham reckoned another, deeper truth: that by

performing the mundane physical act of sitting down and

starting to work, he set in motion a mysterious but infallible

sequence of events that would produce inspiration, as surely

as if the goddess had synchronized her watch with his.

He knew if he built it, she would come.

64 I THE w AR OF ART

WHAT A WRITER'S DAY FEELS LIKE

I wake up with a gnawing sensation of dissatisfaction.

Already I feel fear. Already the loved ones around me are

starting to fade. I interact. I'm present. But I'm not.

I'm not thinking about the work. I've already consigned

that to the Muse. What I am aware of is Resistance. I feel it

in my guts. I afford it the utmost respect, because I know it

can defeat me on any given day as easily as the need for a

drink can overcome an alcoholic.

I go through the chores, the correspondence, the

obligations of daily life. Again I'm there but not really.

The clock is running in my head; I know I can indulge

in daily crap for a little while, but I must cut it off

when the bell rings.

I'm keenly aware of the Principle of Priority, which states

(a) you must know the difference between what is urgent and

what is important, and (b) you must do what's important first.

What's important is the work. That's the game I have to

suit up for. That's the field on which I have to leave

everything I've got.

Do I really believe that my work is crucial to the planet's

survival? Of course not. But it's as important to me as

STEVEN PRESSFIELD 65

catching that mouse is to the hawk circling outside my

window. He's hungry. He needs a kill. So do I.

I'm done with my chores now. It's time. I say my prayer

and head out on the hunt.

The sun isn't up yet; it's cold; the fields are sopping.

Brambles scratch my ankles, branches snap back in my face.

The hill is a sonofabitch but what can you do? Set one foot in

front of another and keep climbing.

An hour passes. I'm warmer now, the pace has got my

blood going. The years have taught me one skill: how to be

miserable. I know how to shut up and keep humping. This is

a great asset because it's human, the proper role for a mortal.

It does not offend the gods, but elicits their intercession.

My bitching self is receding now. The instincts are taking

over. Another hour passes. I turn the corner of a thicket and

there he is: the nice fat hare I knew would show up if I

just kept plugging.

Home from the hill, I thank the immortals and off er up

their portion of the kill. They brought it to me; they deserve

their share. I am grateful.

I joke with my kids beside the fire. They're happy; the old

man has brought home the bacon. The old lady's happy;

she's cooking it up. I'm happy; I've earned my keep on the

planet, at least for this day.

Resistance is not a factor now. I don't think of the hunt

and I don't think of the office. The tension drains from my

66 I THE WAR OF ART

neck and back. What I feel and say and do this night will not

be coming from any disowned or unresolved part of me·,

any part corrupted by Resistance.

I go to sleep content, but my final thought is of

Resistance. I will wake up with it tomorrow. Already I

am steeling myself.

s T E V E N p R E s SF I EL O I 67

HOW TO BE MISERABLE

I n my younger ~ays dodging the d~aft, I somehow wo~nd

up in the Manne Corps. There s a myth that Manne

training turns baby-faced recruits into bloodthirsty killers.

Trust me, the Marine Corps is not that efficient. What it does

teach, however, is a lot more useful.

The Marine Corps teaches you how to be miserable.

This is invaluable for an artist.

Marines love to be miserable. Marines derive a perverse

satisfaction in having colder chow, crappier equipment, and

higher casualty rates than any outfit of dogfaces, swab

jockeys, or flyboys, all of whom they despise. Why? Because

these candy-asses don't know how to be miserable.

The artist committing himself to his calling has vol­

unteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be

dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection,

self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation.

The artist must be like that Marine. He has to know how to

be miserable. He has to love being miserable. He has to take

pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or

jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.

68 I THE w AR OF ART

WE'RE ALL PROS ALREADY

All of us are pros in one area: our jobs.

We get a paycheck. We work for money. We are profes- '

sionals.

Now: Are there principles we can take from what we're

already successfully doing in our workaday life and apply to

our artistic aspirations? What exactly are the qualities that

define us as professionals?

1) We show up eyery day. We might do it only because we

have to, to keep from getting fired. But we do it. We show

up every day.

2) We show up no matter what. In sickness and in health,

come hell or high water, we stagger in to the factory. We

might do it only so as not to let down our co-workers, or

for other, less noble reasons. But we do it. We show up

no matter what.

3) We stay on the job all day. Our minds may wander, but

our bodies remain at the wheel. We pick up the phone

when it rings, we assist the customer when he seeks our

help. We don't go home till the whistle blows.

s TE v E" PR Es s FI EL o I 69

4) We are committed over the long haul. Next year we may

go to another job, another company, another country.

But we'll still be working. Until we hit the lottery, we are

part of the labor force.

5) The stakes for us are high and real. This is about

survival, feeding our families, educating our children.

It's about eating.

6) We accept remuneration for our labor. We 're not here

for fun. We work for money.

7) We do not overidentify with our jobs. We may take

pride in our work, we may stay late and come in on

weekends, but we recognize that we are not our job

descriptions. The amateur, on the other hand, overi­

dentifies with his avocation, his artistic aspiration.

He defines himself by it. He is a musician, a painter,

a playwright. Resistance loves this. Resistance

knows that the amateur composer will never write

his symphony because he is overly invested in its

success and overterrified of its failure. The amateur

takes it so seriously it paralyzes him.

8) We master the technique of our jobs.

9) We have a sense of humor about our jobs.

10) We receive praise or blame in the real world.

70 I T H E w A R OF A R T

A PROFESSIONAL DEMYSTIFIES

A pro views her work as craft, not art. Not because she

believes art is devoid of a mystical dimension. On the

contrary. She understands that all creative endeavor is holy,

but she doesn't dwell on it. She knows if she thinks

about that too much, it will paralyze her. So she concen­

trates on technique. The professional masters how, and

leaves what and why to the gods. Like Somerset

Maugham she doesn't wait for inspiration , she acts in

the anticipation of its apparition. The professional is

acutely aware of the intangibles that go into inspiration.

Out of respect for them, she lets them work. She grants

them their sphere while she concentrates on hers.

The sign of the amateur is overglorification of and

preoccupation with the mystery.

The professional shuts up. She doesn't talk about it.

She does her work.

78 I T" E w AR OF ART

A PROFESSIONAL ACTS IN THE

FACE OF FEAR

T he amateur believes he must first overcome his fear;

then he can do his work. The professional knows that

fear can never be overcome. He knows there is no such thing

as a fearless warrior or a dread-free artist.

What Henry Fonda does, after puking into the toilet in his

dressing room, is to clean up and march out onstage. He's

still terrified but he forces himself forward in spite of

his terror. He knows that once he gets out into the

action, his fear will recede and he '11 be okay.

s TE V E N p R E s s F I El O I 79

BOOK THREE

BEYOND

RESISTANCE Higher Realm

THE MAGIC OF MAKING A START

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation)there is

one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills

countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one

definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would not

otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events

issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all

manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and

material assistance which no man would have dreamed

would come his way. I have learned a deep respect for

one of Goethe's couplets: "Whatever you can do, or

dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, magic,

and power in it. Begin it now."

-W. H. Murray,

The Scottish Himalayan Expedition

[22 I THE WAR OF ART

Did you ever see Wings of Desire, Wim Wenders's film

about angels among us? ( City of Angels with Meg Ryan and

Nicolas Cage was the American version.) I believe it. I

believe there are angels. They're here, but we can't see them.

Angels work for God. It's their job to help us. Wake us up.

Bump us along.

Angels are agents of evolution. The Kabbalah describes

angels as bundles of light, meaning intelligence, conscious­

ness. Kabbalists believe that above every blade of grass is an

angel crying "Grow! Grow!" I'll go further. I believe that

above the entire human race is one super-angel, crying

"Evolve! Evolve!"

Angels are like muses. They know stuff we don't. They

want to help us. They're on the other side of a pane of glass,

shouting to get our attention. But we can't hear them. We're

too distracted by our own nonsense.

Ah, but when we begin.

When we make a start.

When we conceive an enterprise and commit to it in the

face of our fears, something wonderful happens. A crack

appears in the membrane. Like the first craze when a chick

pecks at the inside of its shell. Angel midwives congregate

around us; they assist as we give birth to ourselves, to that

person we were born to be, to the one whose destiny was

encoded in our soul, our daimon, our genius.

When we make a beginning, we get out of our own way

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 123

and allow the angels to come in and do their job. They can

speak to us now and it makes them happy. It makes God

happy. Eternity, as Blake might have told us, has opened a

portal into time.

And we're it.

~4 I THE WAR OF ART

THE MAGIC OF KEEPING GOING

W hen I finish a day's work, I head up into the hills for

a hike. I take a pocket tape recorder because I know

that as my surface mind empties with the walk, another part

of me will chime in and start talking.

The word "leer" on page 342 ... it should be "ogle."

You repeated yourself in Chapter 21. The last sentence is

just like that one in the middle of Chapter 7.

That's the kind of stuff that comes. It comes to all of us,

every day, every minute. These paragraphs I'm writing now

were dictated to me yesterday; they replace a prior, weaker

opening to this chapter. I'm unspooling the new improved

version now, right off the recorder.

This process of self-revision and self-correction is so

common we don't even notice. But it's a miracle. And its

implications are staggering.

Who's doing this revising anyway? What force is yanking

at our sleeves?

What does it tell us about the architecture of our psyches

STEVEN PRESSFIELD I 125

that, without our exerting effort or even thinking about it,

some voice in our head pipes up to counsel us ( and counsel

us wisely) on how to do our work and live our lives? Whose

voice is it? What software is grinding away, scanning

gigabytes, while we, our mainstream selves, are otherwise

occupied?

Are these angels?

Are they muses?

Is this the Unconscious?

The Self?

Whatever it is, it's smarter than we are. A lot smarter. It

doesn't need us to tell it what to do. It goes to work all by

itself. It seems to want to work. It seems to enjoy it.

What exactly is it doing?

It's organizing.

The principle of organization is built into nature. Chaos

itself is self-organizing. Out of primordial disorder, stars find

their orbits; rivers make their way to the sea.

When we, like God, set out to create a universe-a book, an

opera, a new business venture-the same principle kicks in.

Our screenplay resolves itself into a three-act structure;

our symphony takes shape into movements; our plumbing­

supply venture discovers its optimum chain of command.

How do we experience this? By having ideas. Insights pop

into our heads while we 're shaving or taking a shower or

even, amazingly, while we're actually working. The elves

126 I THE WAR OF ART

behind this are smart. If we forget something, they remind

us. If we veer off-course, they trim the tabs and steer us back.

What can we conclude from this?

Clearly some intelligence is at work, independent of our

conscious mind and yet in alliance with it, processing our

material for us and alongside us.

This is why artists are modest. They know they're not

doing the work; they're just taking dictation. It's also why

"noncreative people" hate "creative people." Because they're

jealous. They sense that artists and writers are tapped into

some grid of energy and inspiration that they themselves

cannot connect with.

Of course, this is nonsense. We 're all creative. We all have

the same psyche. The same everyday miracles are happening

in all our heads day by day, minute by minute.

STEVEN PRESSFIELO I 127

FEAR

R esistance feeds on fear. We experience Resistance as

fear. But fear of what?

Fear of the consequences of following our heart. Fear of

bankruptcy, fear of poverty, fear of insolvency. Fear of

groveling when we try to make it on our own, and of

groveling when we give up and come crawling back to where

we started. Fear of being selfish, of being rotten wives or

disloyal husbands; fear of failing to support our families,

of sacrificing their dreams for ours. Fear of betraying our

race, our 'hood, our homies. Fear of failure. Fear of being

ridiculous. Fear of throwing away the education, the train­

ing, the preparation that those we love have sacrificed so

much for, that we ourselves have worked our butts off for.

Fear of launching into the void, of hurtling too far out there;

fear of passing some point of no return, beyond which we

cannot recant, cannot reverse, cannot rescind, but must live

with this cocked-up choice for the rest of our lives. Fear of

madness. Fear of insanity. Fear of death.

These are serious fears. But they're not the real fear. Not

the Master Fear, the Mother of all Fears that's so close to us

that even when we verbalize it we don't believe it.

142 I THE WAR OF ART

Fear That We Will Succeed.

That we can access the powers we secretly know

we possess.

That we can become the person we sense in our hearts we

truly are.

This is the most terrifying prospect a human being can

face, because it ejects him at one go (he imagines) from all the

tribal inclusions his psyche is wired for and has been for fifty

million years.

We fear discovering that we are more than we think we

are. More than our parents/ children/ teachers think we are.

We fear that we actually possess the talent that our still, small

voice tells us. That we actually have the guts, the persever­

ance, the capacity. We fear that we truly can steer our ship,

plant our flag, reach our Promised Land. We fear this

because, if it's true, then we become estranged from all we

know. We pass through a membrane. We become monsters

and monstrous.

We know that if we embrace our ideals, we must prove

worthy of them. And that scares the hell out of us. What will

become of us? We will lose our friends and family, who will

no longer recognize us. We will wind up alone, in the cold

void of starry space, with nothing and no one to hold on to.

Of course this is exactly what happens. But here's the

trick. We wind up in space, but not alone. Instead we are

tapped into an unquenchable, undepletable, inexhaustible

STEVEN PRESSFIELO I 143

source of wisdom, consciousness, companionship. Yeah, we

lose friends. But we find friends too, in places we never

thought to look. And they're better friends, truer friends.

And we 're better and truer to them.

Do you believe me?

r44 J THE WAR OF ART