People want stardom or fame or whatever - instant gratification

In this age of dazzling lights and fleeting fame, the words of Joshua Sasse echo like the voice of an elder reminding the young of forgotten virtues. He warns against the hunger for instant gratification, the impatient thirst for stardom and fame, which blinds one to the sacred journey of learning one’s craft. To master an art, to become truly equipped for one’s calling, is not a path of speed but of depth. The ancients knew this truth well — that the roots must go deep before the branches can reach the heavens. Yet today, many seek the fruit before the seed has even broken soil.

When Sasse speaks of learning one’s craft, he reminds us that greatness is not a crown bestowed, but a weight carried. The artist of old would spend decades refining their hands and mind before daring to call themselves masters. The sculptor Michelangelo, for instance, studied anatomy, architecture, and perspective for years before he ever touched the marble that would become David. He did not seek applause — he sought understanding. And through that understanding, the divine found expression in stone. Had he sought fame first, his hands would have been too shallow to carve eternity.

The disease of the modern spirit is haste. We rush to show the world our brilliance before we have kindled it into a true flame. But the ancients taught that patience is the womb of power. The warrior trained for years before stepping onto the battlefield. The philosopher questioned the self for decades before daring to teach others. The musician bled upon their strings before earning the right to be heard. Only through discipline does the heart of one’s craft awaken. Instant gratification gives the illusion of victory, but leaves the soul hollow.

Consider the story of Vincent van Gogh. He lived in obscurity, unknown and uncelebrated, yet he painted with relentless devotion. His art was not born from applause, but from inner mastery. He did not seek stardom; he sought truth through color and form. Though the world ignored him in life, his craft was pure — and it outlived him. His fame came after death, proving that the glory of art belongs not to the impatient, but to the faithful.

To be fully equipped for your art or your job, as Sasse says, means more than technical skill. It means to know your tools, your limits, your soul. It means to forge the self in the fires of repetition and failure until excellence becomes your nature. The ancient blacksmith did not rush his iron; he struck it again and again, shaping both the metal and his own spirit. Such is the way of all true creation — to work, to endure, to become.

And so, let this be the teaching: Do not chase the flickering torch of fame, for it burns out quickly and leaves you in darkness. Instead, build a fire within — one that no storm can extinguish. Seek mastery before recognition, substance before style, devotion before desire. The applause of the world is fleeting, but the pride of true craftsmanship is eternal. It whispers across time, in every work well made, in every soul that honors its gift through labor.

Therefore, young seeker of greatness, heed this counsel: Slow down. Learn deeply. Work faithfully. Measure your worth not by how many eyes see you, but by how much truth lives in your work. For the day will come when the world looks back — and it will not remember the ones who rose quickly, but the ones who stood firmly, rooted in craft, unshaken by time.