It's not just about filming, you go to awards and interviews too.

Christopher Parker once said with open-hearted honesty: “It’s not just about filming, you go to awards and interviews too. I enjoy all of it, even learning my lines!” At first, his words may sound light, even casual, but within them lies a truth that the ancients themselves would have honored: that in every craft, greatness is not found only in the pinnacle moment of performance, but in the whole journey, with all its tasks, rituals, and duties. To embrace the entirety of one’s path—both the glorious and the mundane—is to walk the way of harmony.

When Parker speaks of filming, he names the central act of his art, the place where story meets life, where the camera captures the illusion of reality. Yet he reminds us that the work does not end there. Beyond the lights of the set are the awards, where one’s efforts are recognized, and the interviews, where one must share one’s vision with the world. Many might groan at these side tasks, seeing them as distractions, but Parker proclaims joy even in them. His words are a testament to wholeness: that every part of the journey has meaning, that no step is wasted, that the artist is not only creator but ambassador, learner, and celebrant.

Even more profound is his delight in learning lines—the quiet, unseen work that prepares the actor for the stage and the screen. To love the preparation as much as the performance is a rare wisdom. For is it not the same in life? The farmer must love the sowing as much as the harvest, the warrior the training as much as the victory, the scholar the study as much as the triumph of discovery. True mastery lies not in loving only the heights but in cherishing the valleys, the long walks, the small steps that make the summit possible.

History offers us the example of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor-philosopher. He did not delight only in the glory of ruling but also in the daily discipline of writing his Meditations, simple notes to himself about humility, justice, and courage. In this we see the same spirit as Parker’s—an embrace not only of the crown but of the labor, the quiet practice behind the splendor. Greatness, whether of an emperor or an actor, is forged in the willingness to find joy in each part of the path.

The wisdom here is also a warning: those who love only the spotlight will grow weary, for the spotlight is rare. If joy is found only in triumph, then most of life will feel empty. But if one delights in the practice, the preparation, the interviews, the unseen hours, then every moment becomes sacred, every task an offering. Parker’s words remind us that the whole of the craft is worth loving, not only the glamorous fragments.

What lesson, then, must we carry forward? It is this: seek to embrace every part of your journey. Whatever your calling—be it art, business, teaching, or labor—do not despise the smaller tasks, the rehearsals, the meetings, the preparations. For these are the stones that pave the road to greatness. Love them, and you will find that your work becomes not a burden, but a joy.

So let this be your practice: find gratitude even in the simplest duties. Speak with love of your preparation, rejoice in the moments of sharing, honor the stages both great and small. If you do this, you will not only succeed—you will live with a spirit unbroken by the ups and downs of fortune. As Christopher Parker tells us, life’s path is not just about the central act of filming, but about every award, every interview, every humble act of learning lines. Cherish them all, and in doing so, you will discover that every part of your life can shine with meaning.