Always Next Phase

If you follow “King’s Chronicles,” you know we like to deal with paradoxes. A paradox happens when something is true and its opposite is also true—things like “Knowledge is power,” but also “Ignorance is bliss.”

Here’s one I’m thinking about today.

Know when it’s time

Although I’ve made part or, at times, all of my living through writing since I was 14, I hit a period when it seemed the well had gone dry, and I couldn’t write anything of significance for a decade. As I tell through the experience of Dan Roberts in The Way of the Three-Year-Old Why, I thought I wasn’t writing because I was depressed, but it turned out I was depressed because I wasn’t writing. Still, there’s wisdom in recognizing when “that ship has sailed.” I had learned to think of writing that way, as if that part of my life had ended.

I remember the doctor telling my dad in his early 80s that he should no longer drive. He handed the keys to my mom and got in the passenger side, no argument. But my mom kept driving long after the doctor told her the same thing a few years later, coming close to multiple accidents that I witnessed. (Who knows how many I didn’t see?) It’s a minor miracle that she didn’t kill anyone. Dad was wise enough to know that everything ends, and when it’s time, it’s time.

We need the wisdom expressed by, “Know when to quit.” Annie Duke develops this idea in her straightforwardly titled book, Quit.

I got a little emotional Thursday afternoon. I met with what is almost certainly the last in-person class of a 40-year college teaching career. I hadn’t expected to feel that. As much as I have enjoyed teaching all these years, I have a clear sense that, for a lot of reasons, it’s time to stop. Still. I haven’t actually tracked it, but I can reasonably estimate that just at the college where I worked for 34 years, I have listened to over 40,000 speeches delivered by close to 8,000 students.

People ask me if I’m going to teach part-time, and at this point my head, heart, and gut tell me no. That part of my life is over (except for one class this summer). I’m turning to writing full time. That’s my next phase.

You never really know

But there’s also a paradoxical truth expressed by, “Never say never.”

When I first came to the college, I thought I would only be there for three years while I finished my doctoral degree. What changed? First, I discovered my profound love for teaching, especially teaching there. Stories I heard from colleagues at other institutions helped me realize my good fortune. Second, life circumstances intervened to prevent me from finishing my doctorate. I got halfway through my dissertation, but my daughter’s disabilities led me to a leave of absence, and then the university failed to honor their promise that I could pick right back up, changing the rules in “the middle of the game.” By that point, it didn’t matter—I no longer wanted to go anywhere else.

Writers often discuss “plotter” vs. “pantser.” Plotters plan out every bit of writing before they begin to write, so they have an outline of each chapter, know where to plant clues and foreshadowing, where plot twists will occur, and how the book will end. Pantsers (or, as I prefer, “discovery writers,” since in parts of the world “pants” means “underwear,” even though the term comes from “flying by the seat of your pants”) start with interesting characters in interesting situations and then follow them around to see what they do. Most of us blend these two in some fashion. Rarely does anyone fall purely on either of that spectrum.

Here’s something I’ve figured out, though: in writing, we may be plotters, but in life, we are all pantsers.

Pay attention, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such-and-such a town. We will stay there a year, buying and selling, and making a profit.” You don’t really know about tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for only a short while before it vanishes. (James 4:13-15, CEB)

One thing is certain: we have passed a mile marker. We’re on to the next phase, and while we have some idea where the road leads, the path can go in unexpected directions at any moment.

You too? We’ll keep each other company while we’re going. As one of my teachers used to say, “We make the path by walking.”

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Donn King is The Confidence Cultivator. He is the author of The Sparklight Chronicles series of business parables (DonnKing.com/Books) and a professor of communication studies (which means “a professor of standing up in front of people and saying stuff”). He’s also a pastor, a speaker, and a communication coach. Reach out to donn@donnking.com to see how he could help you increase your impact, gain influence, and build your career.

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