Writing to learn
I have had an unshakeable feeling that I’m missing an opportunity.
This is an incredible time in my professional and personal life. It’s a period of radical growth, discomfort, emotion, and (I hope) accomplishment.
11 months ago I left a fulltime job. At the urging of mentors, family, and my freelance clients, I took the proverbial leap. Kinda like this guy.
The celestial bodies aligned. Moonlighting became daylighting.
Now, through 11 incredible months of learning and growth, I feel more than a little regret that I haven’t formally captured that journey.
- “What was I thinking when _____?”
- “How did I learn ____ ?”
- “Who has influenced me when I was learning _____ ?”
- “Where did I first hear about ____ ?”
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, this is the origin story of something. Succeed or fail, I would like to know how I got there.
So, why not start now?
I’m going to start sharing a few lessons every week with you, the internet. A public ledger of my mistakes, epiphanies and wide-eyed moments.
But why share it? Couldn’t a simple journal do the trick?
Welp. I propose that sharing my experiences with the web / community / anyone raises the stakes. Sharing with an audience — real, or imagined — introduces a layer of accountability. Similar to how publishing your todo list helps you get more done.
I have reservations. A lot of them. Most notably, a fear that I am contributing the noise of the web; I’m embarrassed of my writing.
But, that’s fine. Swallow your pride, Phil. It is very likely not going to be great at first, so don’t demand perfection.
This series doesn’t really need to be read. It needs to be written.
The commitment is 6 months, 2 stories per week, for 26 weeks. That’s 52 stories by July 1.
If, after 52 posts, the cost is too much, or the benefits of this habit are not realized, then I will reassess.
Story #1. The end.
