Blindly
Paul Klee:
Follows with Concern, As Both are Blind (1927)
"… I'm unlikely to really understand how or why."
I might say that I resolved my hash mark issue, but that would, at best, be a partial truth. The issue was resolved, and yes, I was involved, but it would be a stretch to claim that the resolution was my fault. As I explained in earlier installments—ArrowingThrough and StrategicHesitation—I'd received hints and instructions from fellow users of my manuscripting app, though they didn't immediately resolve my issue. Five tries had left my situation worse and me increasingly frantic. I'd decided to give it a rest, resolving to stand aside and leave that sleeping dog lie for a day before making a sixth attempt to fix anything. The lag time worked, for my sixth attempt resolved the issue, though I cannot definitively say why. I did what I'd intended to do the first five times, but only that last attempt worked. I'm left no wiser and, if anything, more hesitant to engage in further Honing efforts. The headings seem slightly too small, but I'm more inclined to leave them as they are since my earlier efforts had somehow made them disappear.
I Hone after some ideal, often just a notion of what might be possible, essentially Blindly. I cannot see where my effort's going. I imagine the possible, however impossible that might become in practice. I hold no grand vision. I am not fueled by divine inspiration but by dedication, not dedication to some grandiose ideal but to something remarkably simple. The self-helpless gurus who insist that we all must "start with the end in mind" must be out of their frickin' minds to suggest such a thing. Their recommendation probably induces more blindness than vision, and the resulting performance anxiety could leave anybody frozen in the face of what they ultimately could never have seen. "Envision," they advise as if anybody's eyes had a setting enabling such a thing. They might have as credibly counseled folks to fly.
I focus on the space immediately before us, hoping to glimpse where I stand. I accept any hand offered, but I do not depend upon the generosity of strangers or friends. Like with my hash mark issue, not even good advice, freely given, necessarily resolves anything. We presume we understand what we might not and offer our help without explicitly acknowledging that it might make matters worse, for we move as Blindly as those we help. Not one of us foresees very much of anything other than what we imagine, though imagination's not nothing and has fueled adventures as long as there have been humans. It might be that when a guru prescribes envisioning, he's actually prescribing imagining. I'm okay with that as long as I do not mistake what I'm imagining for what I'm seeing, what I've imagined for what I've actually seen.
I Blindly but not recklessly proceed into my future. I cannot foresee much, but I can attend to what I'm doing while trying not to get too awfully far ahead of myself. I acknowledge that I'm Honing my approach as a matter of speculation. I mostly follow patterns gleaned from other, perhaps similar, situations. I focus on my next step forward. I try not to take my sacred setbacks too awfully seriously, for they can convincingly cause me to question my future. Start questioning a future, and I will probably infect my present, perhaps even my past. Better, presumably, to stay focused on the present and on where to place my next step forward. I never needed guarantees, and I never really wanted any. I realize that my eyes do not have it; they cannot see through this, nor can any combination of my senses. Even when I resolve some difficulty, I'm unlikely to really understand how or why. Honing Blindly, I proceed.
©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved