Foolish and stupid

If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid. — Epictetus

I’m trying to get the first few blog posts out of my system, but it’s hard to break the ice with yourself. I always start off pretty quiet, but I don’t always end that way. I like writing because when you talk to someone, you can only communicate as much as they can understand. So you might end up in a few different kinds of conversations. You’re speaking to someone who lets you talk, or you let them talk, or you both keep it conversational.

When you write, there’s a chance that someone somewhere knows what you mean. So even though you might feel like an idiot writing to people who probably aren’t listening, it’s possible that feeling foolish and stupid might go to good use.

And even if no one reads, at least your writing gets better.

Discovering what you believe

The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe. — Gustave Flaubert

The thing about a blog is when you have nothing to say you can write to yourself. One thing that’s always interesting is secrets. I don’t know what this blog is about yet, but I hope to write enough to find out.

We’ve been interviewing candidates for different positions this week. All of them are nervous. Each of them exaggerate and there are probably dozens who didn’t even get to interview. But now that I’m on the interviewer side of the table I noticed I don’t even care if they’re padding their skills. All I care about is if they’re the type of person who can do what they say they can.

It makes you realize all of the times when you want your words to be perfect (e.g. speeches, interviews, dates) and the other person isn’t looking for perfection. They’re looking past the words you’re putting in front of them. They’re trying you on in their minds, the way you put on a coat in a fitting room. And before you’ve even finished talking they think they have a feeling of what it would be like to have you around.