Winging it. Guessing, and Correcting as You Go.

04/29/10 Joe

I’m beginning to have a weird “thing” for Frank Chimero. I’ve never net him, but I dig him. He says things like:

“ Once the tools are understood, understanding why to do certain things becomes more valuable than how to do them.”

and

“We’re all lost and making things up as we go. We are making things before we know what they do and breaking stuff before we know what replaces it.”

and

“It’s verbally piking up a stick and poking it at the blurry life path laid before us. It’s our educated guess about not just the way things are, but it’s an attempt of grasping a vision of how things could be.”

Nice thought nuggets like these make his writing compelling to read. But better still is the undercurrent. Lots of Frank’s articles have to do with personal permission, which is something I think about a lot.

Permission to quit. Permission to guess. Permission to work hard. Permission to try and be good at things. Giving ourselves permission is often the first step in any great project.

So I highly encourage you to read lots of Frank’s writing, – but especially go read this one.

It deals with permission to guess. Permission to fumble your way through and correct as you go. If you’ve ever learned a new programming language, taught yourself guitar, or tried to read a classic novel you know that feeling. Picking up momentum, and just assuming it will get easier as you go.

It’s a short article, but it manages to cram in an important thought I’m going to try and remember. It’s about not being afraid to fail.

I never liked the kids who raised their hands in class. I sat at the back, sulking, bored, and probably drawing something. Hindsight, as usual, provides a clear picture of what was really going on. Paying attention in class required effort, bravery, and a feeling of inclusion. That last one is the biggest. Owning problems, and showing vulnerability while you work on them is a big deal.

I didn’t understood that at a young age. I just assumed somebody smarter, older, and probably somebody dead for hundreds of years had already figured it out. Why bother? Speaking up would just invite somebody to say “well Pythagorus once said…” The internet feels like that sometimes. You start to talk about a new idea for an interface, and somebody says “But Jakob Neilsen says…”

It’s important to not let thoughts like this bring you down. No matter who said what, it’s possible they were wrong, and even if they were right, sometimes pursuing your own divergent ideas lead to something brand new.