Fruitful fracture
Cutting is often constructive. (Image by Davie Bicker)
Sometimes I get lost in the middle of writing.
It’s a bit like getting distracted in the middle of a conversation… “What was I saying?”
Unlike a conversation, the words are written down. But the thread is lost. Where was this going?
When I get lost this way, it is often because the thing I thought I was writing has become something else.
At first, this seems frustrating and messy. However, it’s often a gift. Once I recognize that the piece has deviated from its original intention, I now have two pieces to write instead of just one. At that point, I can either I make a note of the original idea and continue fleshing out the new one instead, or I can excise the new idea from the original piece, copy it to its own document, and continue writing the first one.
Sometimes, on days when I’m struggling to focus, I might generate several pieces this way. Am I struggling to focus because I’m having so many ideas, or is it because the original concept was so complex that I had to sort out all of these related ideas in order to get to the heart of it?
I don’t know. But recognizing the fractal nature of ideas helps me a lot. I can see each of these breaking points as a fruitful fracture: generative rather than destructive. They are not invasive weeds but runners sent out from plants I cultivated. If necessary, they can be moved elsewhere, but they are welcome guests in the garden regardless.
The same thing, I’m sorry to say, happens in my lesson planning. And in the structure of my business. And in my plans for my life. There are forking paths aplenty, and naturally I must recognize the impossibility of following them all.
And yet, so often, there comes a moment when I have to realize that the path I thought I was on has shifted. Which way do I go: the way that matches where I thought I was going, or the way that matches where I seem to be headed now?
Career-wise, this has happened a few times. Instead of hammering away fruitlessly at trying to become a full-time singer-songwriter, I opted to grow as a music educator. Instead of burning myself out teaching music lessons and being an administrator, I moved on to become an administrator. Then I added a second school. Then an online school. But then I pivoted from the online school to coaching, because that took off so much faster.
I have always had question marks about coaching, though. It never seemed like a real business, so I’ve spent most of the past three years trying to build something else. But the coaching path is the one that keeps getting reinforced. It may be the branch of the tree that remains while others get pruned away.
And then: What kind of coaching? As one of the Bobs asked in the movie Office Space, “What would ya say ya do here?” Seems like it should be such an easy question to answer. But just like the messy blog post that prompts me to ask, “What is the point I’m trying to make?,” I feel like I get further away from clarity the more I try to pin it down.
Regarding my work, I have a few ideas. The path has split again, and again. And sometimes, I have a moment of recognition, like, “Oh! There it is!” Kind of like the moment in a love story when the hitherto oblivious main characters look at each other and go, “It was you the whole time!” Duh. But I’m still not committed, so I’m not at the happily ever after yet.
There’s no hurry, though. The time I spend in the garden of ideas, propagating the cuttings, is a pleasure. I am learning from it. At some point, the choice will be easy and obvious. Until then, I’ll enjoy the opportunity to explore the choices, expand on the possibilities, and see what grows.
