School For Life

I often talk to my clients and students about the experience of going to school as a child. It can be a tricky time for many of us since school asks children to focus on things they might never choose to focus on unless an adult told them too. This was certainly true for me. The list of things I wanted to do included playing football and Whiffle ball, watching comedy, telling stories, and listening to music. It did not include long division, science, diagramming sentences, or book reports. I learned, however, that school went better if I dropped any resistance I had for long division and book reports and let myself do them as well as I could. I got better grades, which sort of pleased me, and also made my life less of a fight. I surrendered, you might say, and I was better for it.

The tricky part of school is it can leave one believing that most of adulthood will be comprised of things you have to do that you don’t want to do. Adulthood, after all, is what school is theoretically preparing us all for. Life isn’t all recess, boys and girls, so get back to your desks. This is a joyless recipe for failure disguised as practical wisdom. I’m never better than when I’m doing what I want to do, and this is true for every one of us, young and old. 

However, as someone who’s been doing mostly what he wants to do for a long time, I must now admit those years in school served me in ways I could not understand at that time. As anyone who’s ever written or even tried to write a book knows, there will come a time when, no matter how much you love that story, you will sit down and feel like you’re just doing homework. You’ve lost track of your passion for the project, it seems hard and fruitless, but here you are, having to write it because you don’t want to be a quitter.

All that actually stands between the artist and their inherent desire to write that story is resistance. Resistance to finding the way forward, to waiting for the next idea, to believing in its value without external validation, to trusting in one’s own curiosity. Just as when I was in school sitting in front of a sheet of math problems, I must now surrender to the work. The difference is that on the other side of this surrender is my story, is my curiosity, my excitement. It’s always there waiting for me to give up the fight.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Everyone Has What It Takes: A Writer’s Guide to the End of Self-Doubt
You can find William at: williamkenower.com