“Everything Depends Upon Execution
Having just a vision is no solution.”
I’ve been thinking about this quote lately.
It’s easy to have a vision.
We all have ideas about the life we want to live. The places we want to see. The things we want to create. The person we want to become.
Vision is exciting because it allows us to imagine possibilities without having to deal with the difficult part.
Execution.
The moment an idea leaves our imagination and enters the real world, everything changes. Suddenly there are obstacles. There are mistakes. There are unexpected costs, delays, disappointments, and moments when you wonder whether the original idea was even worth pursuing.
I’ve experienced this firsthand.
When I first imagined creating a Fringe show, the vision seemed simple enough. I had a story I wanted to tell. I had an idea for how bubbles could become part of that story. I could see the stage in my mind.
But imagining the show wasn’t the same as creating it. The real work was everything that came afterward.
Writing.
Rewriting.
Rehearsing.
Learning lines.
Figuring out the technical details.
Marketing.
Making mistakes.
Standing in front of an audience and discovering that something that worked perfectly in rehearsal suddenly didn’t work on stage.
The vision got me started.
Execution got me to the curtain.
And that distinction applies to so much more than theatre.
We can dream about becoming healthier without changing our habits.
We can dream about travelling without booking the ticket.
We can dream about writing a book without writing the first page.
We can dream about repairing a relationship without having the difficult conversation.
We can dream about changing our lives while continuing to live exactly the same way.
A vision gives us direction. Execution gives the vision a chance to become real. But execution doesn’t mean everything has to be perfect.
That’s another lesson I’ve learned.
My Fringe show wasn’t perfect. No live performance ever is. There were moments that didn’t go the way I imagined. But standing on that stage was infinitely more valuable than having the perfect show living inside my head.
A flawed reality is still a reality. A perfect idea that never leaves your imagination remains only an idea.
Maybe that’s why I’ve become less interested in asking, “What’s your vision?”
And more interested in asking:
“What are you going to do about it?”
Because the distance between where we are and where we want to be is rarely crossed in one giant leap.
It’s crossed through small actions.
One decision.
One phone call.
One page.
One rehearsal.
One uncomfortable conversation.
One step.
Then another.
Vision matters. It gives us something to move toward. But eventually, we have to stop imagining the destination and start walking. Because everything depends upon execution.
And sometimes the first step doesn’t need to be brilliant.
It just needs to happen.