terrypetersen

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing. (Socrates)

The ancient philosopher Socrates may not come to my mind as I listen to ten different ways to use social media as a writer, but how little I know does. I grew up in the fountain pen and manual typewriter era. And I wonder, am I buying the gray-haired stereotype about technology or is some gray matter active under my skull right now? Fortunately the facts-ready speaker at the Mad Anthony Conference gives plenty of reference for later study, so I give up taking illegible notes and take up listening. Hurray for one mode of operation. It helps me to relax and take it all in one step at a time.

As the conference progresses I network face-to-face, meeting and re-meeting other writers. The same advice repeats in several talks: Agents and publishers are human. Approach them as fellow flesh-and-blood creatures, not as unreachable, above-all god figures. Smile. Be yourself.

Moreover, my writing represents who I am, but it only reflects my existence. My spirit stays captured within my body. If I get a rejection or two the earth will continue to spin, the sun will rise and set on schedule, barring Armageddon. Then my computer would be out of commission. Nevertheless, I would probably still grab a paper and pencil and try to chronicle something. Maybe that’s why I go to conferences to learn whatever I can about my craft. I’m addicted to story-telling and don’t want to recover.

In the days of carbon paper and typewriters, a mistake at the bottom of the page required hours of penance. Today the backspace key makes error correction simple. Learning on a deeper level—finding the true self, takes a lot more time and energy.

As I enter each session I consider becoming an empty slate, open to learning the way a young child hears new words, sees different faces,  flowers, and birds, and then pauses to admire smelly dog poop. Discovery transcends borders. The beautiful and the ugly live together and can’t be separated for convenience.

All I need is the willingness to admit that I still have a lot to learn, and that ignorance is okay—more than okay. Then I can plunge into life and embrace wholeness. One adventurous moment at a time. Although I have to admit, Mr. Socrates, not-knowing doesn’t always feel like wisdom at the time.