The most important thing is to think clearly, and to adopt whatever practices and disciplines (or, occasionally, lapses in discipline) serve that end.
This statement, which is true, is true only because of the limitations in our notions of importance.
Part of the reason that I've been such an enthusiastic advocate of Girard's theories is that I can see virtually everyone around me living mimetically, because that was how they learned to live.
This way of thinking would have served me well (and did) as a professional maker of theatre, but the means of making theatre in my country have become industrialized, which is the opposite of organic. Organic is from organ, work, a form, like our internal organs, which also exists as a function, and gains its identity from that. The opposite, industry, if you could imagine the pieces of your body for a moment as industries, would be the forms of the organs working in order to serve the others, but without thinking of themselves as part of that larger thing. Each function of the body would think itself very useful, and sometimes essential, for the body, but it wouldn't think if itself as part of that thing that its function served, any more than a worker in a fast-food restaurant would think himself part of the community of people sitting around him and eating. In the second case, the form is from a purposiveness conceived ex ante, not function.
So when an art form becomes industrialized, the roles are preserved, but as jobs. And often those jobs are given according to corporate favor, or to those who more closely correspond to the secondary purposes of the industry. Rather than theatremaking, which would happen even absent any scheme for compensation. (Cf. Demothsenes: "I paid for the staging, while you merely danced in the chorus) rising up into a scheme for sustaining it, the form is created ex nihilio, purposively, by giving a fixed number of people jobs, along with some vague idea of what it was that legitimate theatre should do.
I well remember talking with a NY producer with who employed me for several years as a website editor, and the contempt he appeared to show when I said I would rather play the smallest role on a stage than produce the biggest show on Broadway.
The urge to make all things new runs deep among those of us driven to the hinterlands of things. The useful part of that is the increased incentive to look closely, and try with all the force of your being, to understand what's going on, and how it all hangs together.