The Best Skill I Ever Taught Myself
When I was young, I thought touch-typists were wizards. Touch-typing showed an unparalleled degree of intimacy between human and its creation.
In my early days and like any beginner, I was hunt+pecking. There was this silent but strong competition between my circle of friends on who could use a computer "better". Typing fast was a central part of it back then. Improvement back then meant that I could use increasingly more fingers. "I can use the right pinky to hit Enter — achievement unlocked! 🏅".
It was clear that hunt+peck was a mere interaction between an user and its machine. Two different entities came together and collaborated.
Touch-typing, on the other hand, removes a barrier, makes these entities one. From one-on-one it becomes two-against-the-world.
I absolutely needed to learn it.
So I taught myself. No manuals, no classes, no asking for instructions. I imagined keyboard wizards going at it and tried to imitate them. "Both hands on the keyboard, eyes straight on the screen, and type!" Mostly a jumbled mess would come out.
"What are these little nipples on the F and J keys? … Ohhhh… I see."
I still remember that internal monologue. That moment when I understood the concept behind touch-typing. I had found the instructions for this Lego set. Only time and practice kept me away from assembling it all.
During basketball practice, I used to dribble the ball with the tips of my fingers imagining which keys I would be touching. At school when writing notes, I would imagine those notes being written not by my pencil ✏️ but with the keyboard ⌨️. Those days had a zest of flow to them, whenever I would focus on it, my surrounds would completely disappear and there was only my fingers and keys dancing a symbiotic dance, bonding, creating new pathways.
Touch-typing is my by far most-used skill. Daily. From early morning to late night. On QWERTY, AZERTY, on-screen keyboards, ATM machines. Most days I take it for granted and forget that there was once a time when I hunt+pecked. So a toast for the young-Rico who had the discipline to learn it.
