I was cleaning dishes the other day when I flipped a bowl over in the sink. I saw a signature at the bottom that I hadn’t noticed in a long time.
EAC, a friend, gifted us two hand-made bowls when she used to live close by. She was active in pottery workshops and had a collection of cups and bowls in a display case at her house. I can’t recall the occasion of her gift—it might have been a birthday or a parting gift before she and her husband moved to another state.
We have used these bowls almost daily for the last six years (primarily for yogurt and fruit). EAC herself has likely forgotten about these bowls by now, but her effort a few years ago continues to benefit us today.
This observation reminds me of a podcast I listened to a few months ago. Author Austin Kleon described books as ”stored energy.” Here’s how he explained it: An author expends effort and stores her energy as text. The energy remains dormant until a reader comes along. If a reader chooses to engage and his energy matches the author’s, then unlocking occurs—and a connection is formed. The creator’s work changes the reader asynchronously.
If you have read a beautiful passage that moved you, you’ve experienced that magic.
On the contrary, if the energy between the author and the recipient doesn’t match, there is no change—the reader moves on and thinks the writing is uninteresting.
The same principle applies to other works of art—movies, paintings, or performances of any kind. Kleon’s theory explains why a particular piece of work appeals to some but not others: everyone’s energy is unique. Everyone likes something, but nothing appeals to everyone.
I’d argue that this “stored energy” concept applies beyond creative work. What we say alone could have a lasting impact. If a friend tells me I’m ugly and dumb, I will likely remember that for a long time, even if I don’t hold grudges. Conversely, if a person asks a thoughtful question at the right time, her act of kindness will stay with me.
Energy circulates through our words and actions. We can choose the type of energy we bring to the world, but we don’t get to decide what it does or how far it goes. The energy may do nothing, ruin someone’s day, or make someone feel loved and important in the years to come—and we may never find out.
You have the right to work, but for the work’s sake only. You have no right to the fruits of work.—Bhagavad Gita