True achievers love what they do. This does not mean that they like everything they do or that you similarly need to love what you do to become an achiever. One characteristic shared by many real top performers is that they often love what they do and derive enjoyment from fulfilling their task. However, often they feel a sense of obligation, a sense of duty, and an awareness of the call of duty.
Conducting an orchestra may at first sight seem to be the kind of profession that anyone exercising it must surely love, a profession predestined to be a source of enjoyment. Let us take a closer look at this assumption and find out whether loving your profession and deriving enjoyment from it are essential for excellent performance and also how we may be able to influence both.
Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990) had no easy introduction to music. His father, the wealthy businessman Samuel Bernstein, fought very hard to bring his son’s artistic career to a halt, for his dearest wish was to see his eldest son relinquish the path of a starving artist and finally look to his father’s lucrative cosmetics business to make a living. But the boy persisted, and, after studying at the Curtis Institute of Music, in 1943 Leonard Bernstein was given his big break when the new director of the New York Philharmonic, Artur Rodzinski, appointed him as assistant conductor.
Leonard Bernstein’s big breakthrough came on November 14 that same year, when he had to step in as a last-minute replacement for the star conductor Bruno Walter, who had been taken ill. The performance was a sensational success, and the review of the concert, which was broadcast live over the radio throughout the United States was printed on the front page of the New York Times. Bernstein’s meteoric rise as a conductor had begun. After his son’s success, Samuel Bernstein apologetically explained his previous opposition by saying, “After all, you don’t expect your child to be a Moses, a Maimonides, a Leonard Bernstein.”1
Bernstein became world-famous as a conductor and composer and made a substantial contribution to bolstering America’s musical self-confidence. In 1958 he became the first American-born-and-trained musician to lead the New York Philharmonic. His crowd-pleasing style of conducting went down very well with concert-goers from all social strata, and he successfully challenged the traditional clear distinction between serious music and music for entertainment. His musical West Side Story, first performed in New York in 1957, is still a solid favorite, being regularly staged around the world. Bernstein also made a major contribution to Gustav Mahler’s global renaissance, as well as gaining extensive plaudits as a music educator by commentating music programs on television and publishing popular books about music that reached a broad readership.
We can safely assume that Leonard Bernstein loved his work and derived enjoyment from it. For as he once said, “There is no aspect of music that doesn’t totally fascinate me or capture my interest one hundred percent, whether performing, talking about, or writing music.”2 In spite of the enthusiasm underlying that statement, we should not forget that Leonard Bernstein’s view of his own work is rather one-sided.
Let us now take a look at what all this means with respect to your professional activities as a manager.
It is a conspicuous fact that people who achieve something extraordinary often derive enjoyment from their work. However, this is by no means always the case, and it is not a prerequisite for achieving greatness. Every professional activity entails numerous routine tasks. Nobody can honestly say that he or she always enjoys fulfilling these tasks—and Leonard Bernstein was no exception. Think of his endless rehearsals, running through the same passage time and time again, the many nights he spent in hotels, and the endless travel. Even concerts themselves can lose their appeal, because anyone who has already performed the same symphony a hundred times would have to be quite an extraordinary person to regard yet another one as a pure pleasure, even if—as with Bernstein’s three symphonies, Jeremiah, The Age of Anxiety, and Kaddish—the compositions in question were his own.
Assume, then, that a proven top performance is more an indication of true professionalism than a reflection of pure enjoyment. When you hear Simon Rattle conducting the Berlin Philharmonic, you can expect a top performance—regardless of whether Rattle himself derived particular enjoyment from the concert given that evening. That is something you will not even notice, because this ability to constantly produce top performances is the mark of a true professional and definitely merits admiration.
You should also bear in mind that some tasks, taken as a whole, are inherently anything but enjoyable, examples being work that is monotonous, hard, boring, or physically exacting. Nonetheless, this kind of work still gets done, sometimes necessitating almost superhuman performances. Deriving enjoyment from your work—should you be fortunate enough to do so—is a wonderful thing, but be warned: any belief in an entitlement to such enjoyment from your professional life will almost invariably be misplaced. Nonetheless, you can learn to derive enjoyment from the results of your work—which is a different thing altogether. Results are always a ready source of enjoyment, or at least satisfaction, even if the work associated with achieving them generates no positive feelings.
Most managers busy themselves with their input, that is, what they themselves do and their own efforts, rather than focusing on results and their personal contribution to a broader objective. You can make deriving enjoyment from your profession more likely by asking yourself this question: “How can I contribute toward making this organization successful?” Assume responsibility. Remember, there is a big difference between feeling that you are breaking stones and feeling that you are shaping stones to build a cathedral. So focus on the bigger picture. Doing so is not just a key to success, but a great potential source of enjoyment.
How you go about your work can also be a source of enjoyment. If you set challenges for yourself and place high demands on yourself, you will find the quality of your activities enhanced. All good musicians know that playing monotonous scales can be almost indescribably fulfilling, provided that they concentrate intently on performing them perfectly. In fact, the enjoyment derived from doing so goes beyond the actual outcome (the degree of virtuosity attained). The task itself becomes more interesting by focusing so intently on it and placing higher demands on its execution.
In principle this point is covered in the previous paragraph, especially with respect to deriving pleasure from results. It is also akin to the perceived importance of serving a cause noted by Viktor Frankl. All the same, it is worthwhile once again acknowledging the fulfillment of a duty as a source of strength and meaning, even though the notion that doing one’s duty is a positive thing seems less widespread now than it once was. Doing one’s duty is not merely useful to the individual, it is also absolutely vital if organizations and societies are to function properly. Especially in connection with the arduous toil referred to above, which can prove extremely exacting, individuals can always earn respect and take pride in doing their duty and thus derive enjoyment, or at least satisfaction, from their work in spite of the heavy physical toll it takes on them.
If, after reading all this, you conclude that your profession is a source of enjoyment or that you even love what you do, you should feel highly privileged, one of the fortunate few. Of course, love of your job or the ability to derive enjoyment from exercising your profession can never actually guarantee top performance or turn you into a great achiever, but one thing is certain. These elusive, yet powerful sentiments can give any career a definite lift, and—as with Bernstein—unquestionably serve to inspire others.
In which of the four domains covered above—deriving enjoyment from results, concentrating on your own contribution, placing high demands on yourself, or finding satisfaction and pride in doing your duty—can you take steps to eke more enjoyment out of your profession?
How will you make a concerted effort over the next six months to try to derive greater enjoyment from exercising your profession?