By Joe Byerly
There are some things I know with 100% certainty.
I know purpose isn’t something someone else can hand you. I know you can’t warm up a Chick-fil-A sandwich in the microwave while it’s still inside one of those tinfoil-lined bags. And I know you can’t say yes to everyone without eventually saying no to yourself.
I’ve come to know these things are true, not because I read them in a book or because someone told me so, but because I started with the opposite first. The thing that wasn’t true.
I had to find myself unhappy and drained because I was living out a purpose that wasn’t mine. I had to watch the microwave spark and the kitchen fill with smoke. I had to burn myself out and grow resentful because I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
The mistakes and stumbles I’ve made in life have often taught me more than the things that came easily.
In Good Writing, a book Anne Lamott co-authored with her husband Neal Allen, Lamott talks about this kind of negative knowledge when it comes to writing. She has long been a big advocate for the shitty first draft, because sometimes it takes a few bad paragraphs to get to the one good one. Sometimes we have to write the sentence that does not work before we can recognize the one that does.
As she says, “Knowing what your writing isn’t is part of finding out what it is.”
That line is a great way to not only look at our missteps in life, but to encourage us to take the steps in the first place. Finding out what something isn’t is a great way to get closer to what is.
The project we’re nervous about undertaking because we’re worried we won’t get it perfect. The conversation we keep avoiding because we’re afraid we’ll say the wrong thing. The opportunity we’re unsure about because we don’t know if we’ll enjoy it, or if we’ll be any good at it.
Yes, the stakes might be high. Yes, the consequences could be severe. Yes, the sting of failure will most likely hurt, especially if we give a shit.
But not beginning comes with a cost, too.
It’s only by beginning that we get the knowledge we need to become more certain. Each imperfect attempt helps us narrow the path. Each wrong turn teaches us something about the right one.
So now, when I’m nervous about taking that first step, writing that paragraph, or starting the thing I’m not sure I’m ready for, I try to remember: at worst, I’m going to find out what it isn’t.
This post originally appeared in The Sunday Email newsletter
Joe Byerly is a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel with 20 years of service, including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and command of a cavalry squadron in Europe. He earned numerous prestigious awards, including multiple Legion of Merits, Bronze Stars, the Purple Heart, and General Douglas MacArthur Leadership Award. In 2013, Joe founded From the Green Notebook.
A passionate advocate for self-knowledge through reading and reflection, he authored The Leader’s 90-Day Notebook and co-authored My Green Notebook: “Know Thyself” Before Changing Jobs, a resource for leaders seeking greater self-awareness. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.
