The Beginnings of Random Development

Pretty random and occasional, by design

Whether you subscribe to Theodore Roosevelt’s call to action, “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are,” or you are a fan of Wayne Gretzky’s “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take,” we’ll probably agree that thinking, reflecting, imagining, learning, contemplating, even intending and planning only take us so far. Only by stepping into action can we bring something new and of value into existence — or not, as the case has been with my liking for writing yet not, actually, writing.

I do not think of writing or not writing as being good or bad, I just think the impact we make is going to be different, and we have a choice, so if we care about the impact, that should help us decide whether to write or not. (Or do anything else in life. Or not.)

Toying with writing since my teens, I even mused about journalism as a career. Drawn to capturing lives, experiences and wonderings in stories, I daydreamed of someone far away, who doesn’t know me at all, reading what I write, drawing from it an idea, inspiration, or élan for some world-changing action. Spurts of writing — memories, reflections, the occasional blog blurb, discussions in professional forums, program reviews, proposals, the odd poem — would bring a sense of contribution and fulfillment. What these writing episodes had in common were: a limited scope, a brief life span, and a sudden end. When time or money for a project ran out, or research conclusions got told, being done brought an unwelcome feeling of a void. Even the thrill of completing my dissertation was quickly replaced by a sense of ‘now what’?

It occurs to me that I rarely picked up writing ‘for pleasure’, just because I felt like it, with the prospect of it becoming a longer-term, continuous pursuit — of clarity, greater insight, a sense of purpose. Why so? Well, it may have been a combination of other demands (or me prioritizing those demands over such a ’non-essential’ pursuit as writing ’just because’) and my persistent wondering whether someone out there would actually be interested in reading what I might write — with a combination of perfectionism, procrastination and laziness being contributing factors, for sure. I am also a very slow writer, just as I am a slow reader. A word or thought or a meaning grab my attention and hold on to it as I explore it, examine it, wonder about it.

At one point, a friend suggested not worrying about the possible, prospective, imaginary reader, and instead writing for myself. Sort of as an avenue for sorting through my thoughts, a space for reflecting, a way to carve out a bit of ‘me’ time. Or, to remind myself of the experiences and encounters I care about (as otherwise they likely wouldn’t be on my mind as much). The idea is not to keep my writing from possible readers, just to not get too preoccupied (worried, really) with whether, or how, my writing may resonate with any particular person, so as to satisfy their need or interest — of which I know truly nothing. I do find comfort in viewing myself as a writer-reader, sitting down to write as a way of organizing my thoughts in ways that thinking while walking doesn’t. (And thinking in bed is a futile effort, as I tend to be sound asleep a second after I lie down — just as I doze off immediately after I settle in my seat on a plane, or occasionally in a concert hall, for that matter.)

Illustrative photo by Michal Fedeles

So what is prompting me to try sharing my thoughts here and now? A combination (or perhaps a ‘collision’) of three things: (1) The sense that a new year invites new intentions and new beginnings — so why not try and see what developing a somewhat regular practice of writing might be like? (2) My wife Kathy’s (who is passionate about writing, and engaged in several writing pursuits simultaneously) suggestion to join a ‘Writers’ Hour’ community — where people from all around sit down to do some writing at the same time every day, connected online for support and accountability. (3) And finally, a nudge from an unexpected source — a little light reading I picked up at a local bookshop to indulge in over the holidays. Yes, I was intrigued by its title: An Abundance of Katherines, by John Green. The main character Colin’s lifelong reflecting on ‘mattering’ and on the worthwhileness of sharing personal stories with others culminates in his insight that, “Even if it’s a dumb story, telling it changes other people just the slightest little bit, just as living the story changes me. An infinitesimal change. And that infinitesimal change ripples outward—ever smaller but everlasting. I will get forgotten, but the stories will last. And so we all matter—maybe less than a lot, but always more than none.”

So the writing begins. It may show up here, or elsewhere (such as in Relocurious, where Kathy and I explore people’s inner experiences of moving), or just in my notes for now. If and when you come across some of it, and it speaks to you in some useful way, and something new becomes possible in your world or mine, that would be quite alright. I am not promising profound, life changing insights, a particular focus, or even a regular sequence of posts. The thoughts may actually feel pretty random at times — which, to me, is a liberating thought: What I write on any day is simply the thing I write, that’s all. This is unlikely to take the form of daily news, or a weekly newsletter, or a monthly article — think of it as my occasional assortment of thoughts on random development, or developments, or development-related random thoughts. Welcome to Random Development. (Pretty random, right? Well, perhaps that’s by design.)

I am Michal: A passionate explorer of caring connections, inspiring learning, and conscious development, professor of education, psychology, and leadership, and consultant on systems and impact. Sharing through writing is new to me (or I am new to it). Welcome to the first bit of Random Development.

This is Random Development. Pretty random by design, masterminded by me, Michal.