The question was innocent enough: “What kind of writing do you like to do?” It started a whole cascade of thought that wasn’t just me-focused. I wanted to offer these thoughts to you because it could lead to some serious impact on your life.
First, a context.
I’ve made part or, at times, all my living writing for over 50 years. I started in the newspaper business at 14 years old. I noticed early that two kinds of people worked as reporters.
1. Those who loved stringing words together to make meaning. For them, researching, interviewing, digging out facts were simply the means to the end of supporting writing.
2. Those who loved to dig out info, especially from corrupt officials and such who tried to hide it. The discovery drove them. For them, writing was simply a necessary part of the job that gave them the excuse to dig.
I’m the first kind. I realize the wisdom of the advice to “pick a niche,” but I just love writing. I have written hundreds of newspaper and magazine articles (though never hitting the “big markets”), blog posts, three specialized books, speeches, press releases, advertising copy, sermons, etc.
As readers of this newsletter know, I am about to publish the first book in a “business fable” series and have started on the second book. Business fables combine elements of fiction and nonfiction, so this is arguably my first foray into fiction, which I’ve always aspired to, though my nonfiction has always incorporated storytelling.
Shameless plug
If you don’t already know about the current book: The Way of the Three-year-old Why is a business fable in the tradition of The Go-Giver, Said the Lady with the Blue Hair, Go for No, The Energy Bus, etc. Dan Roberts has been striving for years to create a prosperous speaking business, hampered by his daughter’s disability. A mysterious mentor shows up as a coffee barista, and somebody keeps leaving him guidance notes. Those notes show an uncomfortable level of knowledge about him, all focused on finding his “why” the way a three-year-old does.
Everybody in business knows about Simon Sinek’s concept of finding your why before getting tied up in your what and how. A lot of folks know the Five Whys technique of going beyond the first answer. But that can still leave you with surface-level answers. Dan learns five guidelines for asking “why” the way a three-year-old does. When you keep digging like a three-year-old, you are likely to find the actual answer—and it’s not “because I said so” or “go ask your mother!”
What it means for you
That’s it for context. Here’s where it matters to you. I’m not suggesting that everyone reading this should write (although chances are that several of you aspire to that). However, I can bet that everyone reading this has something that gives you a reason for living: your ikigai. You ignore it at your peril. Yours may also involve writing. It may involve solving plumbing problems. Maybe when you get an automobile purring like a satisfied car, your heart also purrs. You may not even think of it as creative, but it is.
That is what makes us human.
Last night I watched a documentary about a new species of human relatives called Homo naledi. Only discovered in 2013 (and, admittedly, scientists disagree whether they truly belong to the Homo genus), the astounding thing appears to be that they buried their dead in ritual fashion 100,000 years prior to the earliest evidence of Homo sapiens (us) doing so.
That’s not the point here, though. Burying their dead in ritual fashion isn’t what makes us human. We are the only surviving species of the homo genus, and the scientists in the documentary answered the frequent question about what differentiates homo from other primates and species.
Members of the genus, said one scientist, looked at something like a rock and saw within it a stone axe.
He didn’t claim we were the only species who uses tools. Chimpanzees, for instance, use stones like hammers to open nuts and fruit. However, they don’t use hammer stones to knock edges off other rocks to create sharp edges. They lack the next level of creativity.
Folks, you are made to be creative. You are made to create, for goodness’ sake. To create what, I couldn’t tell you. I can guarantee that you need to create something that satisfies you, whether it satisfies anyone else.
I’ve said here before that for nearly a decade I hardly wrote anything. I thought I couldn’t write because I was depressed. Since starting to write something every day (this post forms part of today’s output), I have realized I had it backwards. It wasn’t that I couldn’t write because I was depressed. I was depressed because I wasn’t writing.
This isn’t professional therapeutic advice, by the way. Depression is serious, and you should consult a professional if you experience it. All kinds of causes can lead to depression. I just think this particular cause can easily go undetected in our go-go, money-oriented, efficiency-enhancing culture. I’m not claiming it works for everyone.
But.
I had been seeing a good counselor for a couple of years. Something in one of our conversations got me back to the keyboard. It felt like the sun coming out after days of cloudiness. After a couple of months, the counselor agreed I didn’t need her anymore. (Note: I will not hesitate to go back if I need it. This isn’t about heroics.)
It worked for me, and it might work for you. You may find it challenging to figure out your particular means of creativity, or you may already know it as clearly as you know your breathing. Don’t treat it as a luxury. Honor it, respect it, and it will sustain you.
Way of the Three-Year-Old Why will help you find or remember your ikigai. It’s just about ready for publication. Keep up with it, including getting in on the launch at a special price, by going here. Click now!
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