Seriously. I’m making most of this up as I go along. The truth is, we all are. From the Pope all the way down to the guy who empties the Port-A-Jons, nobody really knows what they’re doing. Which is why you should never believe anyone who tells you they have it all figured out. They’re even more full of shit than the rest of us.
See, while most of us don’t know what we’re doing, most of us are doing our best to figure it out. We try some things, and maybe they work. Suddenly, we feel like we do know what we’re doing. We might even have some expertise in a specific area, like Vatican history or not getting poop on our shoes. But sooner or later, something new happens. When that does, we’re back to not knowing anything at all.
Does that feel vague? Here’s an example of figuring it out as you go along. In my mid-twenties, I wanted a job in advertising. I had an MFA in film production, a Bachelor’s degree in Communication, and no experience in marketing or advertising. Even in the pre-Great Recession era of jobs for everyone, I was a mediocre candidate. But eventually, after dozens of applications and some help from a family friend, I found a job at an agency doing client service and strategy work as an assistant account executive. This was not the job I wanted, it was the job I could get.
I had 2 years of experience as a project manager at a credit card company. My new boss saw that and figured I’d be organized, able to manage logistics, and good with numbers. And while I wanted to be on the creative side of the business and actually write the ads, I saw this as my in. Never mind that it paid less than the job I’d gotten out of college and the job I’d gotten out of graduate school. It paid more than the unemployment that had just run out, so I was thrilled to have a foot in the door.
An important side note: If you’ve never worked in advertising, people don’t usually move from the client side to the creative side or vice versa. The two skill sets are different, and while it does happen, chalk it up to the right brain / left brain stereotype; people are usually better at one or the other. Also, most creatives think the account people suck and most account people think the creatives are a pain in the ass. It was going to be an uphill battle.
I did my best at the job I had, built a portfolio of spec ads on nights and weekends, and tried to learn as much as I could. I looked for people who did not suck and could help me get to the creative side. When it didn’t look promising where I was, I interviewed at other agencies. And from the outside of every creative department looking in, everyone seemed to have it all figured out. They had what I wanted, and I didn’t understand why nobody could tell me how to get to where they were.
What I couldn’t see? They all had their own struggles, their own shit to deal with, and were doing their best to figure out their lives and jobs in an evolving agency landscape. While they knew more about their discipline and craft than I did, and all had more experience than I did, none of them knew the best path to get from where I was to where I wanted to be.
Why? None of them started where I was. I had to take what they could teach me and go figure it out for myself. It took three and a half years. I could look back and tell a different story that draws a straight, certain line in permanent ink from grad school to working as a copywriter at an ad agency in Cincinnati, but that’s not how it went. I second-guessed myself, struggled with anxiety and depression, and often wondered if I’d ever get where I wanted to go. It’s only looking back on the whole path that I can see how my choices led to where I am.
It’s like that with careers, with relationships, with almost everything in life. Change is the only constant, and while you can be flexible and adapt to change when it comes, no one ever actually knows what’s coming next. So, when someone tells you with complete certainty that they do, you can be sure they are full of shit.
I’m not telling you this to scare you. Rather, I hope it frees you from feeling like you need certainty and stability. More importantly, I hope it inoculates you against buying a bullshitter’s bullshit. I hope that someday, when faced with uncertainty, a new challenge, or a situation where you don’t know what to do, it gives you the fortitude to say, “fuck it” and figure it out yourself. Because while there will always be people who know more than you, there’s nothing you can’t learn.
Take you, for example. When you were born, I didn’t know anything about raising a child. I’d read a few books and watched some friends around their kids, but yours was the first diaper I ever changed. I didn’t know how to feed you, get you to go to sleep, or even hold you right.
But, if you’re reading this, I managed to figure it out. How? I asked people who knew more than I did. I talked to family who’d already been there, your grandparents, your Aunts, and your Uncles. I admitted I didn’t always know what I was doing. And I listened.
To be fair, there were times I pretended I knew what I was doing, and some of those worked out well. Teaching you how to ride a bike went like that; you picked it up quick. Some, like potty training, didn’t go well at all. That worked out in the end, but not until after some very shitty days.
There’s a natural inclination to look at people who’ve succeeded and think they know everything, especially when you’re young. It feels that way from the outside looking in. Some people who will contribute to that feeling and tell you they know everything, even to a fault.
I knew a guy like that in college, he seemed to know everyone in a fraternity I wanted to join. What I didn’t realize until later was that no one in that fraternity actually liked him. Rather than spend his time getting to know people, he spent all his time telling everyone how many people he knew. His goal at every party was not to blow off steam, have a good time, drink beer, or hook up, but to speak to everyone he could, and make sure everyone saw him talking to everyone else. This sucked and was no fun. Thankfully, I made other friends and joined a different fraternity, but that’s not the point. My point is that sometimes people who seem to have it all together actually don’t. Like, not at all.
Life is going to throw lots of things at you that you won’t know how to handle. Sometimes you’ll be able to pull from previous experience, but until you have those experiences, you won’t know what you’re doing. In those cases, look to people who might be able to help. Don’t be afraid to admit what you don’t know, but realize that the person you ask might not know either. And always, always beware the ones who have all the answers.
Sometimes, you’ve gotta make your best guess, put your head down and learn as you go along. And you can always ask me. If I don’t know, we’ll figure it out together.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.