The Notre Dame Cathedral
Making it Last
I often feel small when I look up at them. That’s easy to understand when standing before such towering, colossal structures.
Medieval cathedrals, after all, weren’t built overnight. In fact, they usually took at least half a century to complete.
In many cases, construction spanned several centuries—far beyond a single lifetime and often carried across multiple generations, each one continuing the work of the last.
It’s astonishing to think about the time, effort, and commitment needed to bring these landmarks to life. Especially when you consider that people back then didn’t have access to the modern equipment we now take for granted.
No cranes. No powered tools. Nearly everything was done by hand.
Builders worked when the weather allowed, layer by layer, pushing forward to earn enough before winter came. So perhaps cathedrals represent much more than just religious or architectural purpose.
The act of building them offered entire communities a lifelong career and livelihood. It’s hard to imagine how much thought, dedication, and physical risk went into creating something designed to last forever.
Maybe that’s easy to forget when strolling through a modern-day historic town square. Maybe it’s hard to grasp the significance of places that have evolved so dramatically over the centuries.
But during the Middle Ages, these places were alive with activity. Markets bustled with merchants and craftspeople. Guilds of masons, weavers, dyers, armorers, painters, bakers, leatherworkers, cobblers, and others ran their trades.
These were centers of creation, where masters and apprentices pursued ownership over their work. Skills weren’t just creative outlets—they were essential for survival.
And it’s remarkable how much of what was made then still lives on today.
Through music, architecture, literature, and beyond, we can see the level of mastery these individuals achieved—after years of honing their craft and committing to what they loved.
The One Activity
Some people know right away what brings them to life. Others, not so much. Phrases like follow your passion or find your calling can sound meaningless to those still searching.
But I believe discovering it doesn’t have to be as hard or overwhelming as it seems. Of course, trying different skills is part of the journey before finding the right one.
Sometimes, it happens while doing something so ordinary that we don’t expect it to hold any meaning. But somehow, we know—we feel it—as soon as it lights us up from the inside.
That sudden surge of aliveness tells us we’ve found it. No one else can define it for us. That one seemingly simple activity stirs something deep and creative within us.
Once we choose to pursue mastery in it, the journey begins. Practice and discipline become essential across each stage of growth.
From close observation of our craft to developing new skills and experimenting with ideas, we slowly create more chances to improve. It takes time—and exposure to many styles, examples, and approaches.
Having a mentor is incredibly helpful. Learning directly from someone experienced allows us to understand the deeper challenges and subtleties of the field.
Which is why patience is key to becoming skilled. Thankfully, the right attitude—paired with dedication—will keep us moving forward. In Mastery, Robert Greene writes:
“Masters manage to blend the two—discipline and a childlike spirit—together into what we shall call the dimensional mind. Such a mind is not constricted by limited experience or habits. It can branch out in all directions and make deep contact with reality. It can explore more dimensions of the world. It is active, transforming everything it digests into something new and original, creating instead of consuming.”
Keeping it Alive
Naturally, the road to mastery comes with challenges. One of the biggest is complacency.
We notice it in moments of laziness or boredom. We feel it when we settle for less than we’re capable of.
Even when we try to ignore it, guilt lingers. Because a part of us always knows if we’re holding back.
We know when we give up early. It drains our motivation and shakes our commitment to our deepest goals.
That’s why it’s crucial to treat our passion like a priority. Keeping it alive means respecting it as a vital source of energy, confidence, and direction.
But distractions are everywhere. Each day presents countless decisions, making it harder to focus on improving our craft.
It takes effort to say no to habits that pull us away from what matters. But it’s necessary to stay aligned with our goals.
Doing so strengthens our creativity and deepens our expertise.
This is just the beginning of mastery—committing to systems, tasks, and priorities that unlock our highest potential. In Essentialism, Greg McKeown writes:
“We have good reasons to fear saying no. We worry we’ll miss out on a great opportunity. We’re scared of rocking the boat, stirring things up, burning bridges. We can’t bear the thought of disappointing someone we respect and like. None of this makes us a bad person. It’s a natural part of being human. Yet as hard as it can be to say no to someone, failing to do so can cause us to miss out on something far more important.”
Passion Meets Purpose
As we pursue mastery, we begin to feel the joy of doing our best. Creating from the heart brings both deep fulfillment and meaningful connection.
When we use our true voice in our work, we feel rewarded—regardless of where we are in our journey. It’s not about the end result. It’s about honoring the process.
Every effort we make gives our life meaning right now—not someday, but in this very moment. And as we continue shaping our vision, the most powerful thing we can do is align our passion with a purpose that serves others.
This turns a personal pursuit into something much greater: a mission. We can develop our skills with the intention to give back—to create something that makes a difference.
Few things feel more rewarding than that. Because in service, we find a way to contribute to something bigger than ourselves.
In Man and Superman, George Bernard Shaw once wrote:
“This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one. Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.”
New Heights
For a long time, I saw mastery as something tied to superiority—an image of dominance, ego, and high social standing. I pictured the genius racing to the top of the class or the loud athlete bragging about a win. These were the impressions I picked up growing up.
In my mind, mastery was connected to arrogance and self-importance. I didn’t yet understand how much more it could be.
Over time, that view shifted. I came to see mastery not as a symbol of status, but as a meaningful chapter in one’s life—a deep commitment to purpose. It’s less about triumph and more about contribution: using the one thing that brings you joy to offer something valuable to the world.
Of course, fear still shows up along the way. Fear of judgment, failure, or criticism. But perhaps that fear is simply part of the journey.
The reassuring thing is, we’re never alone in it. No matter the time, field, or craft, others have faced similar doubts and difficulties.
Others, too, have endured their own challenges—like a mason balancing atop a cathedral wall. And just like them, we can’t afford to let fear stop us.
Our courage must be louder. Perhaps, if it comes down to anything, it comes down to this—that our pursuit of mastery means mastery of fear itself.
So that while we may never get rid of it completely, it can take us to new heights when we choose to conquer it; when we choose to remain strong as we go higher and beyond, daring ourselves to see what was in us all along.
