Learning From What Happened

#MemoryLane

Take a moment to study... and learn something new (or old)

There is a certain arrogance that we develop as we grow older.

We (or at least I do) tend to look back on the younger version of ourselves, and believe that the things that were done at that age, that were achieved, were easy. That it was all a given, that it was simple, kid’s stuff.

That the things we fought to gain, to overcome, couldn’t really have been that bad. Especially when we look back on them from the comfort of hindsight.

I sometimes wonder if it is a cultural thing, being Nigerian and all. I know that we tend to reserve a peculiar condescension for those younger than us. Does that bleed into our consideration of the younger versions of ourselves?

I think that contributes to it, but I also believe it is so much more than that.

Not to get all psychoanalytical here, but I think there is a certain discomfort it looking back at the gaffs we made while younger, the apprehension, the obvious stumbling and not-knowing, and believe that there is something valuable to be gleaned from going through that struggle. Not overcoming it, but going through it. Sitting with it.

When we come back to that same road we have overcome, as I somewhat have in the recent months, we realize that yes, it is actually easier than the first time.

But still, it isn’t easy.

And how in the world did I do all of this the first time?

REALLY… HOW DID I DO IT?

I am paraphrasing someone (and it is very likely C. S Lewis), but there is something to be said about pretending to be something before we become the thing.

Not that silly “fake it till you make it” thing, but the real deal.

A child stumbling in gibberish until they form their first words, a student failing at getting some math problem right, until they get it right. Until they become someone that gets it right more often than not.

That is the becoming of a thing.

That is being a thing. Turning from someone who cannot, into someone that is. That is the thing.

Consider this, how do you become a writer? Well, you have to sit down and write. It is simple enough.

Yet there are all of these obstacles in place; self-doubt, worry about the outcome (will I fail? Will I succeed?).

But becoming a writer is still about doing that simple thing; sit down, write. The first step will always be becoming someone that consistently sits down and gets the job done. That sits with the uncomfortable thoughts of self-doubt (and whatever other nonsense there is to deal with that day), and writes.

It is after becoming someone that sits down to do the job, despite all else, that one becomes the thing.

Sitting down now to write this blog post is fairly easy for me, but I remember the apprehension that I had when writing my first blog post (will it be good? Does anyone care? Will I finish it before my self-imposed deadline?). Still, I sat down, wrote this lovely piece and hit PUBLISH.

It is a lot easier to do it now. In fact, it can become routine to the point where it feels ordinary. But there is still a kernel of magic in doing what I do; sitting down to write this blog post regardless of how I feel. Because it reminds me that whatever new challenge I have to face as a writer, I have already overcome it in the past in some degree.

This might be a bigger dragon to slay, but it is still a dragon. They all have that chink in their armor that gives you a chance to overcome them.

That entry point for me is still: sit down. Do the job.

It is okay if it is uncomfortable. Really, it is okay. You will be fine. And when you succeed, you might be silly enough to look back on how you did it and think it was ordinary. That it was inevitable.

(That you were overreacting a little.)

BUT HOW TO DO IT… NOW?

Despite how much more relaxed I have become in the past few years, one thing that I still find it hard to do is separating the effort that I put in from the outcome.

And that outcome can go in either direction; I am both worried about if I fail, and if I succeed.

I am not ready to ask myself how I got to this point, only to figure out how to move forward.

And I cannot lie, contrary to what I might want to believe; it is hard. it is hard because of how much it costs in terms of effort, and it is hard in terms of how easy it is also. Being humble enough to admit a simple thing: that your past self got some things (many things!) right, and it might take retracing your steps in order to get back on the right track, and admitting first, that there are steps that need to be retraced. That going forward means looking back for a moment, before heading on.

It is also hard in terms of making the decision to do the work, and it is harder in terms of making the smaller (but just as important decision) to show up and do the work everyday.

I don’t want to be too vague about things, I’m not talking about anything too fancy. This blog is mostly about my life, and about writing. (And maybe about being a doctor, a little)

I have been doing these things for a while, but one thing I find to be constant, one thing that I find pure and unfailing, is doing something just because you genuinely love it.

It is the answer to the question (if there is one), of how to overcome the fear of outcomes. Just do it, as they say, for the love of the game.

For the love of seeing the words written on the page.

For the love of seeing the worlds in your head come to life (and hopefully come to life inside someone else’s head after they read it.)

And of course, hope. I am no longer buying that idea that a true artist is one that “suffers” (and they always mean financial penury) for their art. Being paid well for what you do encourages you to do more art, because you won’t have bills to worry about ha-ha.

Still, even with all the money and accolades in the world, if you don’t have love, what do you even have?

I hope I never have to find out.

In some other, more light hearted (if you can call it that), here’s what I have been up to.

READING; Kaveh Akbar’s debut novel(?), Martyr!. I mean, I found it boring at first, then when I came back to it after a two-week hiatus, I finished it in three days. I have a lot of thoughts about it, and one of them is that writers who are primarily poets write such amazing lines in their prose, but are so clunky on the narrative level. Still, the story is a great meditation on what it means to be Iranian-American, and with the Iranian war going on right now, it’s great to get a glimpse, albeit a sad one, of the effect conflict has on everyday people. On generations.

Agatha Christie. Am I becoming a fan? Maybe. But I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Every time I read a Christie novel, I am sure I have an idea who the murderer is. Then I get to the end of the novel, and ask myself how I missed it entirely. That woman knows how to write a catch-me-if-you-can novel.

WRITING: Or should I say publishing? My story titled “Translocation”, that I have been shopping around for some months, is going to be published in the Flame Tree Press Anthology. The anthology is centered around Africanfuturism (different from Afrofuturism). My story examines themes of immigration, family, and I guess… contentment? There’s a stellar cast of writers featured, and I cannot wait to hold this book in my hands. Apparently it is embossed, and has silver and gold foil stamping. How nice!

It will be available from the 18th of August!

TRYING TO STAY SANE: With all of the terrorist attacks in Nigeria right now. I mean, I just wonder sometimes what the point of all this terror is. It has no meaning, no purpose other than to leech the blood of the innocent. I mean, school children. How terribly cruel.

I believe that is all for now.

My blog’s anniversary is in a month. It’s going to be five years since I started doing this. I feel a little uncomfortable that so much time has passed since I first hit PUBLISH in my hostel room as a medical student. But, at the same time, to survive the passing of time, sane and in one piece, is such a blessing.

Thank you for sticking around (or for joining, if you’re new here!)