April 16-17, 2017

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about what it means to have “the right stuff”.  Like every career there are certain pinnacles that, if you achieve them, are recognized across your professional field. They help establish the validity of your work or reflect a level of expertise. A particular apex presented itself for project-n a while back.

Life is full of ups and downs and without one you couldn’t fully appreciate the other. So, I try to be in the moment whichever way it goes, learn something if I get experience and celebrate when I succeed. As I am busy with writing and a day job, I discussed with a colleague whether I would pursue this pinnacle opportunity for project-n. Soon after, my colleague sent me an email of advice, for which I was thankful, but I realized in four to six paragraphs it was an outline of why I didn’t have the right stuff.

His final Advice: There is no rush – wait awhile, there is plenty of time. Fix all these things and maybe try next year.

Well, I have a saying: Advice is like paint. Sometimes you have to take it home and put it on the walls to see if it works in your space. So, I took it home and put it on the walls to show Superhero.

Superhero, didn’t even have to look up to see it – but did – long enough to grin and say “just not your color, is it?”

I smiled remembering the first time I submitted a partial manuscript to an editor. I had no clue what I was doing, but I did my best and figured I had to start somewhere. I found an editor I respected, sent a query letter and shazam—I could send the first fifty pages for review. Should I mention here that I didn’t even know at this time that you started a new line in dialogue when the speaker changed? Yes, amazing what you seem to forget when you switch from reader to writer. The editor showed amazing humanity and gave me valuable information to improve.

Writing taught me and still teaches me valuable lessons, and one of those lessons is to slow down sometimes. Sitting at the table across from Superhero, who knows both the strength and weakness of my tendency to jump from the high dive before I can swim, this very thought crossed my mind and my smile faltered for a moment; I wondered if I should wait, but this wasn’t writing.

I spent an extra hour throwing pottery the next day. The clay, wet between my hands, pulled and circled while I coned and tried to center it. I mushroomed the top, then pinched the bottom. It was too tacky, then too wet. Finally, after convincing it to center I trimmed the top right off pinching it too hard on a throw. Nothing felt natural like it usually does at the wheel. I cut it free.

I started a new piece. I may post it sometime, I really like it.

The next time someone says you don’t have the right stuff—ponder it honestly, and if you need something else by all means pursue it and try later (like my writing), but if you feel ready…not perfect, but ready—do it. You cannot throw pottery, much less the perfect piece of pottery, if you never spin the wheel.

Project-n and I reached for the pinnacle. The notice came last week: “Congratulations, . . . we selected you . . .”!  🙂

Follow your dreams, they are what make you who you are. As I mentioned, I celebrate in the good times and this summit is one of those.

Below is a video thank you to just a few of the ladies who remind me that you participate in life by doing what you enjoy. Now that’s the right stuff!