What a pottery class and a Flip camera taught me about mastery and why small, imperfect daily contact builds more momentum than any plan or perfection ever could.
The pottery class reminds me of the Harvard experiment with kindergartners and MBA students. The assignment was to make the largest tower out of masking tape, marshmallows, and spaghetti. The kindergartners won because they kept trying and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing until they succeeded. The MBA students spent all their time talking.
I do love your teaching through storytelling. Something I want to improve upon. I think that the storms we’ve traveled do need to be shared to help others. Perhaps avoid the storms or better weather them. Also, sharing the joys in life amplifies hope and gives the idea of possibility to others.
The kindergartner story is the perfect parallel: they weren’t trying to be brilliant, they were just willing to try again. That’s the whole game. Consistency belongs to all of us who keep touching the work, not the ones who spend all their time planning the masterpiece.
If the nudge to write is there, follow it. Even badly. Especially badly.
I voice texted my original comment. I noticed so many edits needing to be made when I came back to read your reply. Perfect example of imperfections. Whether translated due to the poor enunciation therefore poor transcription or whatever it is that caused all of the misspellings or improper form of the word chosen and typed with the voice to text.
Giving myself grace and appreciative of our connection.
My authentic self – sometimes loud, frequently impulsive, mostly not thinking of the impression I'll make – has been pretty much front-and-center for the past few months. And while I wouldn't call it imperfect, some in my past would have. So I'm pulling away from that and leaning into Debbi 2.0. Or maybe 5.0.
Action is calling me. Consistent nudges to write.
The pottery class reminds me of the Harvard experiment with kindergartners and MBA students. The assignment was to make the largest tower out of masking tape, marshmallows, and spaghetti. The kindergartners won because they kept trying and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing until they succeeded. The MBA students spent all their time talking.
I do love your teaching through storytelling. Something I want to improve upon. I think that the storms we’ve traveled do need to be shared to help others. Perhaps avoid the storms or better weather them. Also, sharing the joys in life amplifies hope and gives the idea of possibility to others.
The kindergartner story is the perfect parallel: they weren’t trying to be brilliant, they were just willing to try again. That’s the whole game. Consistency belongs to all of us who keep touching the work, not the ones who spend all their time planning the masterpiece.
If the nudge to write is there, follow it. Even badly. Especially badly.
I voice texted my original comment. I noticed so many edits needing to be made when I came back to read your reply. Perfect example of imperfections. Whether translated due to the poor enunciation therefore poor transcription or whatever it is that caused all of the misspellings or improper form of the word chosen and typed with the voice to text.
Giving myself grace and appreciative of our connection.
My authentic self – sometimes loud, frequently impulsive, mostly not thinking of the impression I'll make – has been pretty much front-and-center for the past few months. And while I wouldn't call it imperfect, some in my past would have. So I'm pulling away from that and leaning into Debbi 2.0. Or maybe 5.0.
Oh, I laughed out loud at 5.0
Yep.
That’s where I am here although I do sort of wish I could find an old FLIP cam and merge Carla 5.75 with the original.
https://tattootraveler.com/products/flip-ultrahd-video-camera-black-8-gb-2-hours-3rd-generation?currency=USD&variant_sku_code=21425387-0-0-0-0-0-0
Oh the memory of those days and times and as my eyeballs flicker briefly -ephemerally as they say :-)- in that rearview mirror I know I romanticize.