I was running around the Berkeley marina with a friend yesterday when he said off-hand that he wasn’t a very good musician. This friend is wildly talented and delightfully humble, so I suspect he was being modest—he builds guitars amongst many other talents. I replied that I didn’t think I was especially great at any one thing, but quickly followed up by stating that I wasn’t trying to be hard on myself. I don’t think I’m especially great at any one thing because I don’t especially aspire to be.
Today, I was thinking about the word amateur, and not in the way that many folks seem to use it these days. The word amateur simply means “to love”—as in: to do something for the love of it, first and foremost. I think of myself as an amateur, and I aspire to be an amateur at many things. To be an amateur doesn’t mean that you’re not skilled at something. You could be world-class, you’re just primarily doing it for the love of the thing, not fame or fortune. We should all be so lucky to love with abundance.
Being an amateur doesn’t mean you’re not great at the thing, but it’s still the reason that I identify as one and don’t consider myself to be especially great at anything. I simply love exploring as many things as I can, and there are only so many hours in the day. I love making things. I love writing and art and design and running and recording and ceramics and… lots of other things. I love all of them. I’m an amateur at all of them. I’m an expert at none of them—but if I was, I’d still be an amateur.