It finally took a full blown case of the annual fall flu: sniffly snorts and achy aches; weepy eyes and a raspy throat - to get me to sit down and dust off my blogger's pen. Though the sun outside is bright and cheery this afternoon, I'm inside looking out... and looking in.
Why do I say I love to write so much, but then write so little?
That's been bugging me lately. I can come up with plenty of "reasons" and "excuses" and lists of "other things I have to do", but the truth is something far different, I'm beginning to see.
I am reluctant to be a student.
I can see that a part of me only wants to write when it has "the perfect idea"; when it's the "perfect time"; when it "knows" that it can please itself (or my tiny band of 6 followers!); when it's able to craft the "perfect piece".
I want to be seen as a talented writer.
But the paradox is I can't actually be that unless I practice the craft. I can't be that unless I write - and sometimes struggle - and fail in the struggle. But also LEARN in the attempt.
Jon likes to say that he likes "being a student", loves "to learn". But I can see that as he's gotten older, the learning has become more and more limited - the ventures into something unknown, or something he might stumble at, rarer.
I love this Guy Finley quote.
"You must learn to stop thinking in terms of beginnings and endings, successes and failures; and begin to treat everything in your life as a experience instead of a one."
To be a student means to be willing to learn something, not try to prove something about yourself. Proving only leads to protection. Protection turns one to the past, not towards progress. Proving tells us that "pretending" is the same as "possessing".
So, I want to relearn - to remind myself - of what it means to be a student.
When was the last time I truly remember being a student? It was many, many years ago, when I was learning how to become a basketball coach.
That's me on the far left. I was the Varsity Assistant coach for the Glencoe Girls' basketball team. This team, led by my friend Mark Neffendorf, won the Oregon AAA State Championship in 1990. It was one of my proudest moments as a coach to be part of this team, and Mark's program. Five years later, I was off on my own.
This was my 1995 team at South Medford. This team was the 1st girls' team in Medford to win the League championship and go on to the Oregon state tournament. We didn't win a trophy, but I was also very proud of this team
So, what did it mean to "be a student", learning how to coach? What did I do then, in pursuit of this love, that I've forgotten?
Being a student of "coaching" meant:
- There was nothing that didn't want to learn about the craft. I remember having a deep desire to grow, to absorb everything I could, from any coach I met. I coached with boys' coaches, girls' coaches; I talked with football and track coaches. I WANTED to "know" coaching.
- I was willing to do whatever was asked of me in this pursuit. I spent countless hours and weeks, and months, and years at summer camps, coaching all-star teams, in offseason planning sessions, in late night video sessions after games. I didn't care whether I was paid or not. I just knew that any, and everything I volunteered to do, would help me learn something new.
- I realized, without question, that I didn't already "know it all" when it came to being a successful head coach. So whatever my mentors (Barry Adams, Barney Holland, Mark Neffendorf) asked me to do, I did. And even though my long term goal was to become a head coach, I never remember thinking about that goal while I was doing all that I did. I just wanted to be a "good coach", now.
To be a student means:
- To have a real love for what you wish to learn
- To be willing to do whatever that love leads you to do
- To be willing to surrender the protection and pretense of being perfect already; of "knowing it all"
"I don't think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday." (Abraham Lincoln)
Relearning how to be a student means to remember that a student is an explorer; a student must be a risk taker.
Like Horatio Nelson Jackson, who with Sewall Crocker (and his dog Bud) became the first man to drive across the United States in 1903.
Here's to remembering how to be a student, and to being willing to "stick my head out the window" a little more often...like Bud!
I'm going to try to remember that little "Pearl"...and to practice it more often.