Nobody’s a Pro

I’ve often observed seasoned professionals doing their job and thought, Wow, they are really good at what they do…they must not even have to think about it. All the challenges they face on a daily basis must be ‘old hat.’

I don’t know that I believe that anymore.

Rather, the following observations might be more accurate:

  • No one has ever lived today before. Right, no surprise there.
  • Everyone at some point of every day has reason to stop and say, this is new. I’m not prepared for this (though some of us roll with the punches a bit better than others).
  • No one has enough experience to say unequivocally that today will be just like any other day, that all the issues it brings with it are predictable and mundane, and I will go to bed tonight not having experienced anything different from yesterday or any day previous.

The future is locked tight, and we are banned from even a peek in the window. While we can plan and predict some things, the fact remains that every (sane) human on the planet wakes up every day and must admit this: many things could happen today for which I am not prepared, and over which I have no control.

I find solace in this fact. It means, to me, that we are fundamentally equal. That I don’t have to be intimidated by the experience of others much further down the road than I; we are all limited in scope and control, and that by necessity we depend on God (whether we believe Him or not) to direct our path.

“A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his path.” (Prov. 16:9)

And now a sidenote:
is it this realization that propels so many wanna-be writers to delve into the worlds of make-believe when writing a novel? I recently discovered that a large number (majority, in this particular poll) are writing fantasy, science-fiction, and paranormal stuff. What sells nowadays, evidently, is the novel that allows the reader to be superhuman, or something other, with an ability to control more than in reality…or at least to escape today’s reality.

I suppose that is the point in fictional writing: you are reading it to escape from the decidedly non-fictional life you lead.

Moral of these ramblings: it’s okay to feel inadequate, as long as I keep moving forward.

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