There's a trend going around online of people sharing photos of themselves back in 2016. Don't ask me why. Social media is beyond my purview.
Out of curiosity, I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through my own photos from ten years ago. That was the final year I worked a traditional 9-to-5, big-boy job. I spent most of that year preparing for my exit.
I had plans.
I had ambition.
I had no idea what I was doing.
And yet, I acted anyway.
Maybe it was youthful naïveté. Maybe it was something deeper. I don't know. That part doesn't matter much anymore.
What matters is now.
Ten years later, I find myself in a strangely similar position. My youngest starts preschool in August, which means that for the first time in nearly a decade, I won't be juggling stay-at-home parenting alongside everything else I'm trying to build. I'll have full workdays again. Long stretches of uninterrupted time.
Time, in theory, to do anything I want.
The difference is this: I don't have grand ambitions anymore.
Hindsight has made me cautious. Responsibility has added weight. Anxiety has learned to sound a lot like "being realistic."
And yet, I'm still choosing to act.
Which brings me to the point of this newsletter. It's okay to move forward without clarity. Without confidence. Without conviction. We're allowed to figure things out as we go.
This month's Pitcher & Pebbles is dedicated to small, brave things. Ideas, stories, and resources that remind us progress doesn't require certainty, only the willingness to take the next step.
(And if you need a refresher on P&P, read up on this edition.)
1. Read: Ride With Ian
For the better part of a year now, I've been following Ian Andersen on social media as he attempts to ride his bike from Portugal to Japan. He's now a mere two or three weeks away from accomplishing this quest.
What makes Ian compelling isn't the scale of his goal, but how little certainty plays a part in each step. Visas, borders, flat tires, weather, fatigue. Progress happens anyway. Or as Ian puts it:
"I still hate waking up and getting on the bike. That never really goes away. A thousand miles in, you don't suddenly start to love it. But it does give you enough evidence to stop negotiating with yourself. Enough days where quitting made sense and you did not. Enough discomfort to realize it will not kill you. A thousand miles is not a special number. But it's enough to make you slightly more trustworthy to yourself. And that helps beyond the bike."
What Ian says about biking feels incredibly applicable to writing.
2. Read: How to Keep Writing When You're Stuck
This Writer's Digest listicle has a few pertinant ideas on how to get unstuck. When your usual process stops working, the answer isn't to wait for inspiration, but to adjust the bar and keep showing up anyway. (I especially resonate with #4 on the list.)
3. Watch: Octavia E. Butler's 2AM Writing Routine
I love watching other writers attempt other writers' writing routines. In this video, author Christy Anne Jones tries adopting Octavia E. Butler's famously early-morning writing routine, not as a productivity hack, but as a way of understanding how real work actually gets done. Butler didn't wait for the right mood or ideal conditions; she made deliberate, sometimes uncomfortable choices to protect time for her writing.
4. Books
I was trying to think of one book to feature in this newsletter that ties into the overall theme, but there are just too many! Here are only a few that come to mind:
- Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
- The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
- The Dip by Seth Godin
- Show Your Work! by Austin Kleon
- The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg
5. Quote:
"Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way."
— E. L. Doctorow
Hope you enjoyed this handful of pebbles.
Talk soon,
Declan Wilson
WriterGadgets.com