…do as much as you can to deserve praise, and yet avoid as much as possible the hearing of it. - John Witherspoon
I used to think of contentment as something that holds us back, like a parachute on the back of an airplane. Now, I tend to view it more as something that streamlines that airplane. Pride and fear are the real parachutes. Contentment, the peaceful resignation to Providence of all we can’t control, cuts off those parachutes and frees us to become everything we were created to be as we pursue our purpose.
The American Founding Father John Witherspoon has helped me to understand this dynamic. Witherspoon asserted that the man who truly believes his Creator has endowed him with a purpose "does not seek the bubble reputation in the deadly breach, but he complains of no difficulty, and refuses no service." He finds that doing his duty is its own priceless reward and he shuns both hubris and timidity, being content with the approbation of his own conscience.
To that end, Witherspoon counseled that one should prepare himself for both applause and slander "but seek for neither." He should learn to "reverence the judgment of mankind without idolizing it." Put another way, one "should be tender and even jealous of his character, and yet not greedy of praise."
One practice that has helped me to cultivate that fusion of duty and contentment is to ask myself, "Is what I'm working on right now worth doing even if no one ever knows or cares about it?" It was being able to answer "yes" that helped me to finish my forthcoming book with no prospect of ever finding a publisher and push forward through the evolution of these projects without knowing if they would ever amount to anything.
A racehorse is still a racehorse even if no one sees him run. To run regardless of whether or not there is an audience, and to find pleasure in doing so, is contentment.