"We were talking the other day and it was noted that it always seems like you know exactly where you're going by the way you walk." I was told the other day that I walk in a very particular manner, and the irony of appearing to know exactly where I'm going as a result is not lost on me. I walk with purpose though, to be sure. And today is all about that.
Since the corner of life and the productive world I have come to find myself in happens to be an area where finding the most diplomatic way to convince others of your value is of top priority, I have reflected long and hard on the place of my creative output in the grand scheme of things and whether it is in vain or to some means. The conclusions I come to bounce around primarily between the idea that although I enjoy my writing and my visual creativity, it amounts to very little and that energy and time would be better off spent learning code or doing something else, and that to some end, it has become clear that little by little, month by month, post, image, video by piece of content produced, my writing (in particular) and my other projects are the things I enjoy most doing and that following in the pursuit of that ideal can take me in directions that may bear other fruit. In other words, I have no certainty of where I'm walking, but by continuing to just do so and do so with purpose, I look like I have all the certainty in the world.
Yes, but what's the point? Let's not pat ourselves on the back or navel-gaze too much.
The idea is simple: it is easy to over-acknowledge the real-world value of the things you do or the skills you have and to put yourself, unwittingly, in that dreaded category of "special snowflakes" or "lazy millenials", the concept of which I spend so much energy expressing myself against. In other words, it is easy to think too highly of yourself and expect greater returns on your efforts than are warranted. That does not have to mean not to do anything, however, and having a certain aptitude for something can be recognized with humility and the knowledge that you can always do better, regardless of what you've already accomplished. In my case, this applies to any number of things, be them my studies, my language learning, my writing, or my photos, all of which I receive comments about, to all of which I deflect by insisting that none of it is nearly so worthy of flattery. I have never been one to take a compliment well anyway, but part of that is because I'm always conscious of the role of you can do better in motivating myself to do anything.
Instead, I try to focus on the technical side of things, talking about what I enjoy and what I'm relatively good at, and work on strengthening things that are weaker. When I have the opportunity to talk to people with more relative success than I do on similar endeavors, I try to have constructive conversations about what they're doing and how they go about it instead of just complimenting them, and when others come to me in a similar manner, I try to do the same. My Portuguese might be legitimately good, but I could be better with idiomatic expressions and prepositions. My photos might have nice color and/or composition, but perhaps I could work on focus and scaling. And so on. Amid the energy you put into something you enjoy, recognition is natural and does come eventually, in my case trickling in slowly but surely from my photos and my writing. It's all in the name of recognizing the merit of the praise of others while humbly suggesting that you could always be a better version of yourself. Any good project should always seem to some extent incomplete by its creator, especially in creative mediums, with some detail or other that could be improved or expanded upon. Mine is no different, and perhaps you, while reading this, feel similarly.
Since the corner of life and the productive world I have come to find myself in happens to be an area where finding the most diplomatic way to convince others of your value is of top priority, I have reflected long and hard on the place of my creative output in the grand scheme of things and whether it is in vain or to some means. The conclusions I come to bounce around primarily between the idea that although I enjoy my writing and my visual creativity, it amounts to very little and that energy and time would be better off spent learning code or doing something else, and that to some end, it has become clear that little by little, month by month, post, image, video by piece of content produced, my writing (in particular) and my other projects are the things I enjoy most doing and that following in the pursuit of that ideal can take me in directions that may bear other fruit. In other words, I have no certainty of where I'm walking, but by continuing to just do so and do so with purpose, I look like I have all the certainty in the world.
Yes, but what's the point? Let's not pat ourselves on the back or navel-gaze too much.
The idea is simple: it is easy to over-acknowledge the real-world value of the things you do or the skills you have and to put yourself, unwittingly, in that dreaded category of "special snowflakes" or "lazy millenials", the concept of which I spend so much energy expressing myself against. In other words, it is easy to think too highly of yourself and expect greater returns on your efforts than are warranted. That does not have to mean not to do anything, however, and having a certain aptitude for something can be recognized with humility and the knowledge that you can always do better, regardless of what you've already accomplished. In my case, this applies to any number of things, be them my studies, my language learning, my writing, or my photos, all of which I receive comments about, to all of which I deflect by insisting that none of it is nearly so worthy of flattery. I have never been one to take a compliment well anyway, but part of that is because I'm always conscious of the role of you can do better in motivating myself to do anything.
Instead, I try to focus on the technical side of things, talking about what I enjoy and what I'm relatively good at, and work on strengthening things that are weaker. When I have the opportunity to talk to people with more relative success than I do on similar endeavors, I try to have constructive conversations about what they're doing and how they go about it instead of just complimenting them, and when others come to me in a similar manner, I try to do the same. My Portuguese might be legitimately good, but I could be better with idiomatic expressions and prepositions. My photos might have nice color and/or composition, but perhaps I could work on focus and scaling. And so on. Amid the energy you put into something you enjoy, recognition is natural and does come eventually, in my case trickling in slowly but surely from my photos and my writing. It's all in the name of recognizing the merit of the praise of others while humbly suggesting that you could always be a better version of yourself. Any good project should always seem to some extent incomplete by its creator, especially in creative mediums, with some detail or other that could be improved or expanded upon. Mine is no different, and perhaps you, while reading this, feel similarly.
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