Three years ago, I wrote about art, noting that "The best art grabs us, makes us feel something different from what we felt moments before, settles into our brain and refuses to leave."

I might have added that art is subjective. A given piece appeals to some, but not all. In fact, if art is going to settle into one's brain and refuse to leave, it must be exceptional—something different, exciting and new.

Of course, the very things that make art exceptional for one person render it distasteful for another. Perhaps, then, art is like cilantro: adored by some, despised by others.

I don't like all art, all music, all poetry, all books, all movies, all paintings. But that's what makes the art I do love all the more rewarding, like finding the perfect thing at a rummage sale.

What impressed me most about [Cal] Ripken's narrative on Meditative Story was not what he achieved—though his longevity and many awards are impressive—but how he played the game. For Ripken, more important than showing up was playing hard and playing honorably. "Showing up is table stakes," he says. "It's not an end in itself. It's what I do in order to compete." Ripken tells a story about a game in which his Baltimore Orioles teammate pretended to throw the ball back to the pitcher but kept it so that he could tag the runner on second base when he took a lead. Ripken walked over to the runner and said, "Stay on the bag. The second baseman has the ball." Though his teammates were angry with him, Ripken did not back down. In his view, tricks were not part of the game. He explains in the podcast: "I've always had a principle, whether it's playing cards with Grandma or baseball in the big leagues, if things don't turn out well, there's a way to lose respectfully. And then you just come out and do better the next day. Day after day after day. Preserving my honour on the ball field is as much a part of being a competitor as winning is."

What has struck me most in publishing Jenesis is how much the world needs storytellers. A good friend shared this quote from environmentalist and professor David. W Orr: "The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds." Another friend shared Toby Mac's statement: "What you are walking through at this moment may just be the story that helps get someone else through." Stories heal not only the storyteller but the listener as well. We all need to tell more stories, whether they are whispered to our children as they fall asleep, shared with a few close friends, or published for all to see. Stories make a difference.

Years ago, a colleague told me about a couple of retired military officers with whom he had worked early in his career. My colleague said that he marveled at the calmness of these men, which was so different from his own frenetic nature. He asked them how they could be so calm. One of the retired officers explained: "Officers don't run—it makes the troops nervous."

The best art grabs us, makes us feel something different from what we felt moments before, settles into our brain and refuses to leave.

When we start something new in life, it's too easy to think that we should be good at it right from the beginning. My experiments with bread making are a case in point. But the lesson I was reminded of today is that practice—and lots of it—is the surest way to get better at something. And when we combine that practice with feedback from an audience, a director or a coach, we can improve all the more quickly. As for which of our outputs will be considered extraordinary, we never know, which is surely one of the exciting things about the creative process.

"Continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection."

— Mark Twain

Do not underestimate the gifts you bring to the world. You are kind, curious and caring. You make people smile and laugh. You make others feel special. You listen. Do not discount the difference you make in the lives of your loved ones. Your very existence brings them joy and comfort. Do not miss the meaning you can derive in the midst of this horrible situation and the growth it can engender in you and others. There is always something to be learned. There is always something to be taught.

Tomorrow, after the Committee of Sleep has done its deliberations, lift your head up and with new energy and resolve, summon the heretofore unheard voices to offer their counsel. Judge pronounces that Shame and Fear do not present the whole story. Perspective reminds you that you've faced challenges before and that you've overcome them. Self-Awareness suggests that you hurt because you care and because you want to be better. Teacher tells you that there is much you can learn from this situation. Optimism adds that you will be stronger for it, quoting Franklin Roosevelt, who said, "A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor." Serenity encourages you to think about what you can control. Love says that you are a perfectly imperfect human being who, despite this setback, has much to offer this world. Humanity points out that you are not alone. And Perseverance advises: "do not quit while you are yet undefeated": keep sailing—you will find your way.

[James] Clear also says: "If you can get 1% better each day for one year, you'll end up 37 times better by the time you're done." In other words, improvements can be tiny, almost inconsequential. But a small change can lead to greater efficiency and effectiveness, which increases the likelihood that we will achieve our goals and live the life we want to live.