This business is ephemeral, and you have to maintain a healthy

Hear the voice of the performer and creator, Julian Barratt, who spoke with clarity about the fleeting nature of his craft: “This business is ephemeral, and you have to maintain a healthy cynicism about it. There's a 'flavour of the month' aspect to it, so you have to keep moving on and mutating.” These words, though born of the world of art and entertainment, carry wisdom that transcends the stage, for they speak of impermanence, of change, and of the necessity to endure through transformation.

The meaning is this: the world of work, fame, and recognition is ephemeral—short-lived, like smoke that rises and vanishes in the air. To cling to it as though it were eternal is folly. The applause of the crowd fades, the glory of one season gives way to the next, and the one who was once exalted may soon be forgotten. Barratt warns us that in such a world, one must cultivate cynicism, not of bitterness, but of awareness: to see clearly that success is fleeting, and thus, not to build one’s identity entirely upon it.

The ancients knew this truth well. Consider the story of Alexander the Great, who conquered the known world before the age of thirty. And yet, as he gazed upon his victories, he wept, for he knew there were no more worlds to conquer. His glory, though vast, was bound by time. Within a few short years, he was gone, and his empire crumbled. What had seemed eternal was in truth ephemeral, a “flavour of the month” on the grand scale of history. His tale is both triumph and warning: even the greatest must pass, and so must we all adapt or perish.

So too in the lives of artists and thinkers. The poet Lord Byron once captivated Europe, his verses sung by all. Yet within a generation, his fame dimmed, eclipsed by new voices, new passions. Only those who could transform, who could mutate their art with time, remained in memory. Here lies Barratt’s wisdom: survival in a world of change is not found in clinging to one form, but in evolving, shedding old skins, daring to create anew.

But this teaching is not only for artists; it is for every soul. Life itself is a stage where seasons change swiftly. The jobs we hold, the roles we play, the titles we claim—all are flavours of the month. To place our entire worth in them is to set our hearts upon shifting sand. Better is it to recognize impermanence and to root ourselves instead in character, in discipline, in adaptability. In this way, we remain unbroken even as the world around us changes.

The lesson is clear: honor success when it comes, but do not worship it. Celebrate recognition, but do not depend upon it. Instead, practice renewal. Keep learning, keep adapting, keep mutating into new forms. Just as the serpent sheds its skin to live on, so too must we shed the identities and achievements of yesterday to meet the challenges of tomorrow. This is not betrayal of the past, but loyalty to the future.

Practical action must follow. Cultivate the habit of reinvention. When one door closes, do not sit lamenting before it; turn to seek another. Learn new skills, embrace new experiences, keep your mind open to transformation. Maintain humility, knowing that today’s applause may fade tomorrow, but also courage, knowing that you can rise again in new form. Live not as one clinging to fading shadows, but as one who moves ever forward, carrying the fire of creativity and resilience.

For remember this: all things are ephemeral. The world will change, the stage will shift, the crowd will turn. But the soul that knows this truth, and who walks lightly, unafraid to adapt, will endure. Keep moving, keep mutating, and you will never be trapped by yesterday’s glory nor broken by tomorrow’s loss. This is the wisdom of Barratt, spoken not only to artists, but to all who would live wisely in the face of time.