Magic often happens in the middle

It's good to be there for it

Longtime Vanderhacks readers know that I am a big fan of year-long projects. This particular year, I’m listening to all the works of Beethoven. Last year I listened to all the works of Bach. Since the beginning of 2023, I’ve been writing a sonnet every week at the rate of two lines per day, with the goal of producing 52 each year.

As one might imagine, year-long projects tend to begin with a burst of energy in January. Now we are in March, when any new year energy is long swept into the past, and the December finish line is no where in sight. With any long-term project, it can be hard to persist.

But it might help to remind yourself of this: Any project has a mushy middle. You can expect it — and also know that magic sometimes happens in the mushy middle. You have to be there to experience it, so it’s worth persisting just to be present for that magic.

A thrilling musical moment

For instance, in 2024, I was listening to one of Bach’s church cantatas every day for the first several months of the year. That is a lot of cantatas! But then one day in summer I was listening to BWV 181 and there was just this thrilling, aggressive violin line thrown in there on a tenor aria, and then a glorious brass fanfare just a few moments later. I sat up in my seat listening.

I love Bach, but I can tell you — there is no way I would have listened to BWV 181 if I wasn’t going through the entire BWV catalog. It’s not a particularly famous cantata. Unlike, say, the Christmas Oratorio, people aren’t performing it regularly. But because I was listening to all 200-plus cantatas, I listened to that cantata. And I heard those wonderful strings and trumpets.

I’ve tried to keep that in mind with my sonnets too. Because I keep writing two lines a day, I keep completing a sonnet each week. Some are not particularly inspired, and so it’s tempting in the middle of a week when I’ve done something ridiculous like rhyming “try” and “sky” to abandon the project. But then sometimes I come up with an image, or an interesting rhyme, or just an interesting line. I might be able to use that elsewhere. Or I revise the sonnet with the new image in mind and it’s much better. Or the next one feels easier. That wouldn’t have happened if I stopped.

You never know

You never entirely know when the good stuff is going to happen. So you just have to keep at it. Sure, magic might be possible at the beginning or the end of anything. But it can happen in the mushy middle too. You write a draft of an article that’s not particularly insightful, but one line in the middle sparks a new way of thinking that you then pursue in your next work. You go to worship services most weeks, and many aren’t that memorable but then one week something just opens up new ways of understanding.

I’m not saying stick with something forever. Many things do run their course. But if something is mostly a positive force in your life, and it’s never too onerous, it might be worth persisting even if things are a bit ho-hum. You never know when magic will happen, but it’s good to be there for it when it does.