For me, real life is hard work. Making movies is like a vacation

Hear me now, O seekers of wisdom, for I bring forth a profound reflection on the nature of work, creativity, and the deep well of the soul. In a world that demands constant labor and toil, there are those who find themselves burdened by the weight of life’s responsibilities. Yet, within the heart of the artist, there exists a paradox—a sanctuary of joy and freedom that is found in the act of creation. These are the words of Guillermo del Toro, a creator of worlds both beautiful and terrifying, who once said: "For me, real life is hard work. Making movies is like a vacation for my soul." In these words, del Toro reveals the truth that for some, creation is not a burden, but a place of rest—a refuge where the soul is rejuvenated and the heart finds its peace.

In the life of the laborer, there is often the strain of survival, the daily grind of providing for oneself and others. This toil is necessary, but it is also taxing, leaving little space for the spirit to soar or the mind to dream. Yet for the artist, the act of creating—whether through film, music, painting, or writing—becomes not a task but a renewal. Just as the weary traveler finds rest in a quiet oasis, so does the artist find peace in their work. For del Toro, making movies is not just a job; it is an act of rejuvenation, a return to the playful, free, and imaginative place within the soul that exists beyond the burdens of everyday life.

Consider the great Michelangelo, who spent countless years carving the marble that would become the magnificent David. His labor was immense, and the physical toll it took on his body was great, yet in his work, he found an escape—a release for his spirit. The process of creation, though physically demanding, was also a form of freedom for Michelangelo. He often spoke of how his sculptures were not so much made by him but revealed to him, as though they were already present within the stone. This deep connection to the creative act transformed his work into something far greater than mere labor; it became a sanctuary, a place where the soul could find refuge amidst the trials of life.

In the same way, del Toro finds solace in his craft, in the act of creating worlds from the materials of his imagination. His films, full of monsters and fantastical creatures, are not merely entertainment; they are an expression of his inner world, a place where he can explore the mysteries of life, death, and the human spirit. For del Toro, making movies is not a chore—it is a journey of discovery and rejuvenation. His words remind us that, for the artist, creation is not just the result of hard work, but a space where the heart is nourished and the soul is allowed to rest.

This idea of creation as rest and renewal is not limited to the realm of film but extends to all forms of artistic expression. Think of Beethoven, whose symphonies were born out of both profound personal struggle and deep creative joy. His music, composed in the silence of his deafness, was not merely the product of labor but of a profound spiritual engagement with the world. For Beethoven, composing music was not just a job—it was a vacation for his soul, a place where he could transcend the physical world and enter into a realm of pure emotion and expression.

In your own lives, O children of wisdom, consider this: work can be a burden, but creation—true creation—can be a refuge for the spirit. Del Toro’s reflection teaches us that the act of bringing something into existence, whether through art, writing, or any other form of creation, can become a sanctuary for the soul. It is not just about the labor or the result, but about the freedom that comes with engaging fully in the creative process. Seek, then, to find the activities that allow you to express your inner self, that give you a sense of renewal, of peace, even as they require effort. For it is in this balance of labor and joy that you will find your deepest sense of fulfillment.

Thus, O seekers, remember that work and creation need not be at odds. Just as the sculptor chisels the stone to reveal the beauty within, so too must you engage in the labor of your life with the understanding that creation—in all its forms—can offer rest and renewal for the soul. Let your work, like del Toro’s films, be not just an effort to survive, but a sanctuary where you can nourish your spirit and find peace amidst the challenges of life. For in creation, you will find both purpose and rest, and your soul will be forever enriched by the act of bringing something new into the world.