Learning to Fly
Sometimes you just have to jump off the cliff.
The other day I read Devon Monk’s Letter to her younger self.
It was a line at the bottom that stuck out to me.
-stop worrying so much about other writers’ advice and paths to publication.
It sort of struck me. I’m a knowledge junkie. I have to know everything about something. I don’t like doing things that I don’t know how to do. When I do something, I tend to go all the way. (Or go a really short way and realize that there’s a long way to go, but let’s not talk about that.)
As a result, I can really relate to Devon’s statement. And not just writer’s advice, but all things about writing.
The other day my mentors posted their workshops for next year to their private list. I sat there and stared. I know there’s so much I don’t know. I just don’t know what I need to know right now. I want to learn something, but I don’t know that my brain can take anymore in.
Sure you always should be learning. And I’m also a rather difficult student, because I tend to take the lesson apart for the lesson behind the lesson. Yes. Teachers hated me. I know I would learn something, whether it was intended or not is a different question. But…
I guess I just need to fly as well as I can. Maybe after a few flights, it will be time to learn again.
Oh, and if I wrote a letter to my younger self, it would probably say -
Don’t believe Mark about the pink elephant. It ruins everything.
What would your letter to younger you say? Not sure? What would your letter to younger ME say?
