There's a lot of great movies that have won the Academy Award

Hear, O seekers of glory and truth, the words of Clint Eastwood, who declared: “There’s a lot of great movies that have won the Academy Award, and a lot of great movies that haven’t. You just do the best you can.” These words, though spoken by a man who has known both triumph and disappointment, shine with the wisdom of ages. They remind us that true worth is not measured by trophies or applause, but by the labor of the heart, by the striving of the soul, and by the integrity of one’s craft.

The meaning is thus: awards are fleeting, bestowed by committees, judged by shifting fashions, and shaped by human opinion. Though they may honor excellence, they do not define it. Many films, like many deeds, rise to greatness without ever being crowned. And many crowned works, though honored in their time, fade into obscurity. Eastwood’s wisdom is that the artist must not bind his spirit to such recognition. Instead, he must fix his eyes upon the higher prize: to do the best you can, to remain faithful to the work, regardless of who praises it.

The ancients, too, taught this lesson. Consider the story of Aeschylus, the father of Greek tragedy. Though some of his plays won the laurel crowns of Athens, he cared little for the judgment of festivals. In his epitaph, he asked not to be remembered for his poetry, but for his valor at Marathon, where he fought for Greece. Thus he showed that the worth of a man lies not in the fleeting crowns of competition, but in the substance of his deeds. Eastwood speaks in the same spirit: the Academy Award may honor, but it does not define.

History bears further witness in the tale of Vincent van Gogh, who sold but a single painting in his lifetime. He won no awards, no public acclaim, and died in obscurity. Yet his works today are revered as masterpieces, their value beyond measure. Had Van Gogh sought only the recognition of his age, he would have despaired utterly. Yet by pouring himself fully into the canvas, by doing "the best he could," he left behind a legacy greater than any prize. Eastwood’s words carry this same truth: greatness lies not in applause, but in persistence.

This teaching cuts deeper still. For when we tie our self-worth to honors, we enslave ourselves to the judgment of others. But when we dedicate ourselves to excellence for its own sake, we become free. Eastwood reminds us that the path of the artist—and indeed, the path of every human being—is not to win every crown, but to walk with integrity, to labor with diligence, and to find joy in the work itself. Recognition may come or not, but the soul’s peace comes only from knowing you gave your fullest effort.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not measure your worth by awards, but by effort. Strive for mastery in your craft, in your work, in your daily living. Do not neglect excellence, but do not despair if others fail to see it. For history itself shows that true greatness often blooms unseen, waiting for the ages to reveal it. Let your aim not be the applause of the moment, but the satisfaction of knowing that you gave your best.

What, then, should you do? When you work, pour yourself fully into the task, as if no one will ever applaud, and as if all the reward lies in the doing. When you achieve, accept honors humbly, knowing they do not tell the full measure of your worth. When you fail, accept that too with strength, remembering that even failure can be noble if you gave your best. In this way, you will not be bound by praise or crushed by neglect, but anchored always in the dignity of your own effort.

Thus let Clint Eastwood’s words echo across the ages: “You just do the best you can.” For in them lies the eternal wisdom of artists and warriors alike: to fight not for crowns, but for honor; to labor not for applause, but for truth. And if you live by this creed, your work will stand, whether crowned in its time or cherished only in ages to come, as a testament to the strength of a soul that gave all.