The Beginnings of Random Development

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, contemplating, even planning only take us so far. It is by stepping into action that we bring something new and of value into the world — or not, as the case has been with my liking for writing yet not, actually, writing.

I have been toying with the idea since my teens, I even mused about journalism as a career option. Drawn to the adventure of capturing experiences, thoughts and wonderings in stories, I pondered the chances of someone far away, who doesn’t know me at all, reading my writing with interest, drawing from it inspiration or élan for some world-changing action. Spurts of writing — memories, reflections on encounters, the occasional blog blurb, discussions in professional forums, education program reviews, proposals, the odd poem — would bring a sense of contribution and fulfillment, though what these writing episodes had in common were: a limited scope, brief life span, and a sudden end. When time or money for a project (or both) ran out, or research conclusions got drawn and 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 procrastination and laziness being contributing factors, for sure.

At one point, a friend suggested not worrying about the possible, prospective, imaginary reader, and instead writing for myself, as an avenue for sorting through my thoughts, a space for reflecting, a way to carve out a bit of ‘me’ time — 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, for that matter.)

So what is prompting me to start 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 daily 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. BTW, yes, I was drawn to the 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 — and if some of 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 steady focus, or even a particularly 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 — rather, you may think of it as my occasionally assortment of thoughts on often random development, or developments, or development-related random thoughts. So, 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 someone new to sharing through writing. Welcome to the first issue of Random Development.

This is Random Development. A connections, learning, and development occasionally. Pretty random by design, thoughtfully masterminded by Michal Fedeles, PhD.