“Our arts, our occupations, our marriages, our religion, we have not chosen, but society has chosen for us. We are parlour soldiers. We shun the rugged battle of fate, where strength is born.” – Emerson

Most every successful professional photographer I know is a part-timer.

… and if they aren’t, I say they might want to rethink their strategy.

Let me go one step further:
I don’t think the “part-timer” category is a meaningful distinction anymore. It feels more like the residue from a bygone era meant to cajole people into responsibilities they no longer need to keep.

We need a new way to understand the people (part-time or not) who are flourishing so more can find their way.

Mapping a path to success by logging more time doing the same old thing, however, is no longer helpful. To create something new requires at least as much attention as emulating what everyone else is doing. We need to either dump the pejorative label or embrace those who are doing it well.

Of course, the part-timer can come in many forms. Some of you have day jobs in other industries and care so much about your craft of choice that you wake up early and stay up late doing it. Others are committed to the industry but do multiple tasks within it. Regardless, very few are doing nothing but shooting.

It’s time we call part-timing what it is. Anything otherwise is out-of-line with our times and the nature of what we do as creative professionals. How often we click one particular tool (our camera) is no longer sufficient to define one’s commitment.

I wonder if a better category for pro’s would be to note who are creatively committed and who are not.

One thing we can all agree on, even if you disagree with my claim, is that committing to do “it” more creatively is required of all of us (regardless of what “it” is). If more of us did, I’m confident we’d get a more satisfying result relative to our efforts.

Let me explain…

The new-school creatives who do photography part-time aren’t lazy. Far from it! They also don’t get to give up their commitment to the craft of photography. If you want to join them, you will have a LOT of work to do. But, taking pictures turns out to take a relatively small percentage of their time.

Case in point: I did a little informal survey of some of the most successful studios in the US and discovered that the principal photographer was only behind the lens between 10-12 hours per week. The resourceful question then has to be what are these success stories doing with the rest of their week?

Consider the heroes in the field we admire: We know who they are because of their body of work, right? But that’s not all they do. So, what else are they up to? With rare exception, most diversify their offerings.

Witness the sea of successful photographers creating overtly outside their photo genre (commercial shooters doing fine art), creating with tools unrelated to the camera (i.e., writing, illustration, inventions, start-ups), not to mention those expanding into the educational field.

On close inspection, these contributions are just the beginning of how these stand outs spend their time.

Because the act of creating doesn’t scale, entrepreneurial creatives find ways to embed their creativity in products that scale on their behalf. It’s why biz partners like our labs (manufacturing facilities really) are so important to us. It’s also why writers, musicians and film makers leverage Amazon and iTunes and Netflix.

Photographers aren’t alone.

Notice any actors planning weddings? Any athletes you know become coaches? How about musicians selling Harajuku perfume or making surf movies?

Even if you don’t like their hybrid-creations, you at least have to acknowledge that what they’re coming up with helps each to stand out from their usual crowd.

When people feel threatened by the idea that the part-timer now rules the world, I interpret that they’ve unfortunately bought into the belief that their identity is been placed in the wrong spot. Identity was never meant to be centered what we do: no one gets to “be” a professional photographer. Those who claim it exclusively are selling themselves short.

We aren’t what we do.

A functional view of identity breaks down pretty quick. What we do is meant to be an expression of who we are, not the source of who we are. Identity is bigger than that.

That said, I do understand why the suggestion that we take part-time photography seriously will seem offensive to some. How can someone be a pro and only do it part-time? Plus, if I’m spending 60 hours a week on my photo business right now, how is that not a full-time gig?

What I’m noticing is too many in our industry are adopting full time responsibilities that are decided for them… in what Emerson would call their parlour. The rugged battle – where your true and unique strength can be discovered – needs some time to be developed too.

Wouldn’t it be more resourceful then to reallocate our investment of time to include creating outside of the norm? I dare you to give it at least a part-time effort.

“Life wastes itself while we are preparing to live.” – Emerson

I’m an idea guy.

I have a lot of them. And they all feel like big deals. From better ways to do my work, to people I should call, to personal projects I should take on, to clients I need to follow up with, to new companies I want to launch…

But deciding which should get my attention and which should be put aside is a serious dilemma.

It’s what Malcolm Gladwell calls his “weight problem”. Despite having a slight physique, the Outliers author says he struggles with prioritizing the critical things over the mundane… sometimes he acts as though meeting a New Yorker deadline should carry the same weight as taking out the trash… everything feels equi-urgent. The thing is, they aren’t.

So, if all priorities are not created equal, how does one decide what should go next?

You put ‘em in a furnace.

Stand above what you’re actually prioritizing in your life and ask yourself some temperature raising questions. Not, 69 degrees to 71 degrees questions… go with molten lava questions instead. As in going from out here in the comfortable to in there where only the purest of gold remains.

An experiment in perspective: Let’s say you have a complaint that you don’t have enough clients and you just can’t figure out what to do to get more? Let’s also pretend that I have $5 million dollars in a suitcase and am committed to giving that cash away to the first photographer who sends me valid proof that they’ve booked 30 new clients in 5 days or less?

If that were true, do you think you’d find a way – as in right now – to do what’s required to put yourself in a new position? What would you do? Perhaps even more interesting, what would you stop doing to make space for this new effort?

Still stuck? Turn the heat up even higher. Raise your own stakes. Go through the mental exercise of asking what truly would matter most to you if the conditions of your life were radically altered.

What if you discovered you had 7 days left to live? Would that change anything for you? What would you start doing? What would just not matter anymore? If what you’re currently busy doing doesn’t seem as compelling in light of a life and death scenario (whether it’s your life or your business), are you sure what you’re busy doing is really worth your time?

What’s amazing is you & I have the option to live like this, without getting a call from the Oncologist.

But… maybe this all feels way too quick for you. Maybe I’m naive. Maybe I don’t get how complex your life is. Perhaps this kind of consideration just isn’t reasonable given how busy you feel…

If that’s what you’re saying to yourself, I suggest it might be time to find a way to interrupt “busy”.

When Emerson dared people to get a life, he meant one full of active intention, not endless empty tasks.

A mentor once told me that busy-ness is little more than well-camouflaged laziness. Authentic leaders aren’t busy he said. They trade busy in for clarity… for focus… for commitment. They are careful with what promises they make so they have the best chance of keeping them.

And when they mess things up and get in over their heads or realize they’re out of alignment with what matters most, they have the courage to interrupt their lives and get after it again.

“If we live truly, we shall see truly.” – Emerson

A few weeks ago I was in a conversation with Harry West from Business Innovation Factory. Even if you don’t know Harry, I have a hunch you know one of his creations: The Swiffer. Before the product was introduced in 1999, the mop and broom business accounted for about $300 million. A dozen years later, the Swiffer business is worth $1 billion (by itself).

How did Harry and company come up with this brilliant breakthrough product?

They slowed down & paid attention.

Before landing on the Swiffer invention, Harry and his team videotaped housewives cleaning their kitchen floors. After months of collecting footage they began to notice a few pain points:

(a) It was a hassle… Before cleaning the ladies would change into grubby clothes.
(b) There were redundancies… They would sweep first and mop second.
(c) It was inefficient… It took more time to clean the mop afterward then it did to clean the actual floor.

The real clincher though came when they noticed something deeper…

That’s when Harry smelled the opportunity.

After staring at the behavior for half a year, he wondered what values these floor cleaning customers were actually after, whether they knew it consciously or not.

He began to look at the pain points relative to the customer’s deeply felt desires: turns out they weren’t interested in cleaning floors… they just wanted their floor cleaned swiftly (think wiping your kitchen counter down before friends comes over for dinner) but there was no solution that could do that… yet.

Enter the Swiffer.

In one fell swoop, the Swiffer connected the dots: You could clean in a tuxedo if you wanted; it is a single task (not two); and when you’re done you throw out the dusters (before going out and buying more). The “Razor and Blades” business model also meant repeat buyers while solving their felt needs.

Now, I don’t think Emerson cared much about cleaning products when he wrote what he did 200 years ago. I do think he cared about the individuals like Harry who were brazen enough to step forward and make thoughtful invention a way of life. Imagine what the implications for this habit might be for entrepreneurs like us if we had this same designers discipline.

So, practically, when you think of your business – not to mention your life – what are you leaving on your proverbial table? What if there were resources right in front of you, if only you were to slow down and pay attention like Harry? Would you take the time to develop eyes that can actually see the “new”? Are you curious enough to notice your customer’s pain points and connect those to their real values?

How committed are you (and I) to bringing THOSE products & services to market – the ones that eradicate that pain and meet those desires – before your competitors do?

Opportunity is knocking.

“That which each can do best, none but his Maker can teach him. Where is the master who could have taught Shakespeare? Where is the master who could have instructed Franklin, or Washington, or Bacon, or Newton? . . . Shakespeare will never be made by the study of Shakespeare. Do that which is assigned you, and you cannot hope too much or dare too much.” – Emerson

Who do you listen to?

I was in a conversation with Tim Sanders recently who was warning me (and those listening in) to be very thoughtful about the socialstream I choose.

Like kids in the junior high school yard, I’m tempted to think I’m un-effected by those I let in my consciousness. But those voices – good and bad – do effect me & I’d be wise to be intentional with who I grant access.

That said, when it comes to creativity, there’s a deeper voice I can neglect even more that has even greater ramifications. It’s my genie.

That voice in my soul that I need a lot of quiet to hear from. The greeks actually called her genius. We all have one. Very few of us, however, are brave enough to do what’s required to woo her out into the light.

I get it. It’s scary.

One thing I’m clear on though is those who do dare, accomplish the remarkable.

Emerson was right, Shakespeare will never be made by the study of Shakespeare. Same thing with Jeremy & Altf & Parker & Marcus. These crazy people are listening to something internal even while they’re inspired by a world external. I’m tempted to call them geniuses. But they’re not. They’re just regular joes courageous enough to listen their genie inside and do something about it.

I caught a lot of flack for putting the phrase “Fast Track” in the titles of my last two books mainly because critics were concerned that I was suggesting I had some short cut solution to becoming a competent professional creative. There isn’t and I wasn’t.

If you want results – to hear from your genie – you need to work harder at listening than you knew was possible. It’s a daily engagement… a habit, a discipline. The fruit of which can take you on a crazy road & make you feel crazy. But if you really want to find the fastest track to your authentic creative self, I’m convinced that making some dates with your genie is where it begins.

PS… For more insight on nurturing your genius, check out Elizabeth Gilbert’s legendary TED Talk.