Why You Need To Do Bucket Work

A hunter goes alone into the forest, looking for the monster threatening the castle. Along with him he takes his trusty dog.
They pass by a large pond. A muscled, hairy arm bursts out of the water, grabs the dog and drags it under the surface.
The hunter doesn’t freak out. He just raises an eyebrow and says, “This must be the place”.
He goes back to the castle and returns with many men, all equipped with buckets. They begin bucketing the water out of the pond.
At long last, they find what grabbed the dog: a monster at the bottom of the pond, covered in hair from head to foot. They secure him in chains and bring him back to the castle so he can threaten them no more.
(Paraphrased from Iron John, by Robert Bly)
We have all faced both internal monsters and bucket work in our lives at one point or another. It’s inevitable.
Each of the characters represents an element inside of us: the hairy monster ruining our lives; the intrepid hunter searching for a way to make things better; the patient men-at-arms willing to do the long, slow, essential work.
Anyone who’s done such work knows its demands. A single bucket isn’t hard to lift. Ten aren’t bad either. You’re still energetic and hopeful.
But when you get to a hundred, or a thousand, they start to weigh on you; not so much on your shoulders, but on your morale. The challenge in this work is maintaining your spirit.
Over and over again, you need to feed your spirit the vision of improved life. This is your aim, the world of better that lives just over the horizon. You don’t know it’s there, the way you know a fact. But you have a hunch.
That hunch might be strong enough to grow into hope. And in time the hope may evolve into faith. You believe your work will take you to a better place, a better self, a better life. And it will.
Run the race with patience. Strive for consistency as much as you can. If you stumble and stress-eat an entire box of Haagen Daaz ice cream bars on your diet, it’s OK. All is not lost. After you trash the empty ice cream box, return to your discipline with your next steps. Your great power is that you try again.
After a mistake, self-shame won’t nurture you.
Bucket work is long and dreary at times, lonely and seemingly endless. But you are striving to realize the better you — the one who lives in the world of tomorrow — in your world today.
It’s not easy. Valuable things never are. But it’s so worth it.






