I once studied with a Tibetan Lama who would often say “effort is the exit” as part of his teachings. He liked that phrase and recited it regularly. It’s simple and to the point. In fact, it has the quality of effortlessness built into it; a few simple words say a lot.

But what exactly did he mean? Have you ever tried really hard to do something? Of course you have. We all have.

In fact as children we were told by teachers and parents “you have to put some effort in.” “You’re just not trying hard enough.” We believed them. After all they were grownups, what did we know? And we felt a little shamed for being lazy. We were kids and we just wanted to play. We internalized that story about it being important to put in the effort. It was a cultural belief of the modern world. Effort good. Laziness bad.

We have all believed in some way that when something hasn’t worked out that we just didn’t put in the time or the energy, aka the effort required. That job, that relationship, that business we wanted to start.

But think of what happens when you are asked to do something and told it’s really important, like draw a completely straight line, or don’t spill a drop of that water when you pour. Or maybe we’re trying to make a good impression on someone we admire and we end up saying something stupid. Often when we try really hard we actually make a mistake doing something we’d ace if we just did it. That invitation to effort somehow makes us seize up. I remember as a child being a messy left handed printer. When I tried harder my printing didn’t get any better, it just got stiffer and more stilted.

And that’s what the Rinpoche was trying to share with us. He was inviting us to drop into a state of presence where we just “do things”. A place in time and space where we don’t exert the effort muscle. We don’t worry about the future and how things will turn out and what that will say about us or what might happen as a result. We don’t think about all the times in the past where things haven’t worked out. We don’t cycle through hapless thoughts of failure in an habitual loop. “I always screw up. I’m not good at this. I never get this right. Or we might even focus on the present in an unhelpful way “I’m so nervous. I feel my heart pounding. I wish I didn’t have to do this.” This is the way the mind sets the stage for effort. Effort: that state of trying so hard we screw up or at least are assured we don’t do our best work.

When I think about my artwork and effort a couple of things come to mind. About a month ago I worked for several hours on a smallish painting. At first I was just painting and then without much thought I entered into a struggle with the painting. I was on the loosing end of the struggle as I usually am in these situations. And as often happens I finally just gave up. I could feel this mentally and physically as a sense of giving up. Ten minutes and I’m going off to make dinner. And miraculously in that last 10 minutes of just messing around with the leftover paint without much thought to what I was doing a painting emerged that to my surprise worked and I loved. That is one way to exit effort and we always learn something in this process but it’s not that much fun. It’s what I call the exit of last resort. 🙂

But there is another way.

And that’s the way when we set an intention not to enter into effort. When we prepare ourselves and the ground to just play, to just be with the process whatever it is we’re doing. To simply follow the thread. It’s fun and rewarding and surprising. To forget about results. Painting # 2 emerged in this way.This effortless state has been described as a “flow state”. We enter into it through just being with the materials or through a little sitting meditation, or some EFT or with our favourite music, however we find it easiest to enter the flow state. Sometimes we emerge with work we love but it’s not about that. It’s about the process. It’s about being with what is and learning to trust ourselves to the next step. To trust ourselves into the unknown.

Have you ever watched someone bake a cake or scones or something where they know the recipe so well, they don’t have to think about it. They don’t have a recipe. They just take a teacupful of flour a pinch of salt, a bit of this and that, all the while chatting with you. They wash the dishes and presto something perfectly delicious emerges from the oven and they didn’t break a sweat. That’s effortlessness.

Or the gymnast or skater who perfectly performs complicated moves from muscle memory because they’ve done it so many times. That’s what effortless looks like.

Effortlessness is a recipe for a life we love, a recipe for magic. But it seems a way of being almost lost to 21st century humans. It is a hallmark of wisdom that will carry us seamlessly into a future that is worth living.