#001 Mission statement

I spent some time as a teacher telling teenagers they would be able to achieve things. Just because they didn't know what enjambment was didn't mean they wouldn't know it tomorrow, or next week, or in time for their exam. My teaching was secondary to their willingness to learn. The tools in front of you are no use if you don't pick them up. 

Someone with a growth mindset would pick up those tools and find out what they can do with them. The chances are they would run before they could walk, coming up against obstacles they weren't yet ready for. That's okay, that's part of the process. A growth mindset knows these walls exist and that they can be scaled. It's a brave way of thinking because it invites failure. It leaves a person vulnerable, forced to acknowledge gaps in their knowledge.

The alternative is a fixed mindset, where someone owns their limitations. They are capable of plenty, but plateau. There's less willingness to put oneself out there and be exposed to risk. This in turn affects how they cope with criticism, choosing to ignore or lash out at it, instead of finding the constructive benefits like someone with a growth mindset would. Obstacles aren't walls to be scaled, but self-imposed borders on one's own capabilities.

Over the last ten years, I've written hundreds of reviews, the occasional feature, posted thousands of tweets, and had jobs where my writing ability was central to the role. Looking back at where I was in 2010 would be an embarrassment on almost every level so I'll spare myself that agony, but one would hope there have been improvements. You learn what you don't like, you make adjustments, and you work towards disliking what you do less and less. 

As life got busier, less time was dedicated to enjoying the process of writing, which in turn meant progress stalled. I haven't put the work in these last few years.

Which is a shame, because one of life's very few certainties is that I do enjoy writing. Whether people enjoy reading it is entirely moot; everyone would like to think their output makes some sort of difference, but I'm lucky that getting to the end of a blog post is in itself therapeutic. An achievement. If anyone graciously spends a few minutes reading over it (and — even better — doesn't hate it), then that's something to be extremely grateful of. Nothing is more precious than your time, and I'm lucky that anyone chooses to spend theirs on something I was involved in.

In an attempt to climb my way out of this fixed mindset I've found myself in, I'm going to write here. What I've noticed is that not only does your way with words slip away as you spend less time with them, but the less confidence you have in saying anything at all. I would appreciate rediscovering the joy of writing, but to find some confidence in my own voice would be something else entirely. 

It comes at a time when mindfulness has had a profound effect on the way I live (a topic for a future post). In noticing the positive changes it's made, it was reassurance that I'm not stuck in my ways; that there is always scope and potential for whatever it is you value to take greater precedence in your life. I hesitate to say 'improve' or 'better' because it's entirely personal what someone places stock in, and it's not a competition. It doesn't help to think of yourself right now as lesser than what you could be, because doesn't that sound kind of sad? No one is ever not enough. We're all on a path, and with this, I'm just looking to keep travelling down it and savour each step.