I’ve been feeling all organized because last weekend I made a list of topics for my next several posts. And then this morning I read a blog post offering some misguided writing advice. (No, I’m not going to link to it. I’m sure way too many writers read it as is.) Cue complete topic derailment.
I’ve already written about writing advice in the past, but the more I think about it, the more I think this issue isn’t confined to advice about writing. It isn’t even confined to advice about artistic pursuits. Over the years I have certainly received a great deal of advice about basic life topics, some of which has thrown me for a loop and later proven to be completely wrong. (My favorite? “Oh, Amy, you just have delusions of grandeur” in response to me having big artistic dreams. Way to try to ensure they’ll never happen.)
Add to this the undeniable fact that I sometimes give what could be construed as advice right here on this blog, and I feel almost obligated to write the following.
Read, learn, listen to other people’s point of view and feedback. Think about what people say, try out various ideas. Don’t automatically assume you know the one true way to doing anything. But ultimately, DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO. Do what you need to do (assuming that what you need to do doesn’t involve anything blatantly illegal, of course). And more than that, do what works. Advice, even the more strongly worded variety, is merely a suggestion that we can take or leave according to our own inclination. Even if it’s good advice, we might not be ready to implement it. And if it’s bad advice, we might accidentally harm ourselves or take the plunge into regret that I talked about last week.

That’s one of the really wonderful things about life. We get to choose our own adventure. Sure, we can’t control everything or even most things, but within our small scope of decision, we act as our own kings and queens.
It’s not such a leap to believe that creative types need to follow their muses and express their personal integrity and vision of the world in their art. But what if we take a step farther and consider ourselves to be art and our lifetimes to be our canvas of expression? The expressions “Follow your heart” and “Follow your gut” are close but incomplete representations of this kind of life. Follow who you are, and even more, follow who you wish to become.
Choosing to live this way can mean leaving a lot of the advice behind. The Backbone Project has really opened my eyes to this. Why do people care whether I drink alcohol or not? Why do they care (especially women!) if I self-identify as a feminist? Why do people want to change my writing process? Often I think the answer is that they don’t actually care about me personally at all. Instead they are seeking to validate their own way of life and their own choices. Instead of following who they are and finding a sense of rightness in that, they need reflection from the outside world to reassure them. Instead of deep and subtle thinking, they allow themselves to fall into the black and white thinking trap: I’m right and you’re wrong. Because this doesn’t work for me, obviously it won’t work for anybody. Something needs to be fixed; you need to be fixed. If I have a big bad problem, that means you must not have any problems at all or else you’re trying to compete with me, but it doesn’t matter because my problem must be the worst. (Or flip it around: if you have a big bad problem, that must mean my own problems aren’t important at all.)
Don’t take my advice about this, though. Think about it, and make up your own mind. Choose your own adventure. Turn your life into art with every choice you make.
Nice post! I especially relate to the premise that even good advice might not be appropriate for you. I’ve found myself in a state of information overload lately. I had to just unplug because I was having that “nothing I’m doing is good enough” feeling.
I had to remind myself that I’m in charge. Regardless of whether I choose to take or leave the advice I’m given, I’m still responsible for the outcome. So, I have to do what’s right for me even if its contrary to what others, including the experts, advise.
Love your insight.
It’s good to remember occasionally, isn’t it? It’s so easy to follow a path that experts lay down for you, even when it doesn’t feel right. Of course, when it does feel right, that’s fabulous too!
“Instead they are seeking to validate their own way of life and their own choices. Instead of following who they are and finding a sense of rightness in that, they need reflection from the outside world to reassure them”
Nailed it, Amy. Very well said. 🙂
Thanks, Eric, for helping me clarify my thinking in the last few weeks. 🙂
While I agree that not all advice is good advice, and not all good advice reflects the right decision, I’m hesitant to say that the only reason people give advice is for external validation. I think it’s perfectly possible to give advice not based on needing self-validation but out of genuine concern or of wanting to help.
Sure, lots of advice does come down to “This worked for me, so it must be right.” And on the internet, especially, the “advice” comes from relatively anonymous strangers who might not have your interests in mind. But I also think that even in artistic pursuits advice can simply be a way of saying, “Have you looked at it this other way or tried this other thing? You might find it interesting – you might not, but just a thought!”
I think you’re spot on though in saying that everyone should listen and then follow whatever feels right. Receiving advice in no way obligates anyone to take it.
Oh, I don’t think that’s the only reason people give advice. (Although I do think many people are too quick, perhaps, to offer advice, even from the best of motives.) That’s why I used the word “often” and gave examples of exactly what type of advice I was talking about. Perhaps, though, a more clear example of what I mean would be: If someone gives you advice that unaccountably feels judgmental or defensive or very absolute, it might very well be for reasons of self validation. Of course, it may also (and/or simultaneously) be because someone doesn’t know what to blog about or wants to help people or whatever. I also don’t think of this as an open ticket to hating on people, but I actually find it helps me feel more compassionate towards them.
If everyone gave advice like your example above, I’d be extremely happy. 🙂
This reminds me of when my children were young and I saw parents telling their children, “No, no, that’s the wrong way to play with that toy. Here’s the right way to play with it.” Those parents had this tight little box of how life is supposed to be and they wouldn’t give their child the opportunity to come up with new pathways. I remember our son Morgan discovering that if he stuck the little plastic bears upside into the holes in the Fischer Price toy, the bears would slide through without him having to press the levers. And I remember thinking, “Yay, he’s figured out a way to use the toy more efficiently. What a useful talent that will be for him in the work world.”
And that’s continued to be my philosophy: giving people the space to find the path that works best for them.
And I’m mad at the person who told you that your big dreams were delusions.
Yeah, Ada, sometimes I get mad at that person too. But I know they didn’t really understand what they were saying.
I love your philosophy. 🙂
“I’m right and you’re wrong”
I try to always argue as if I’m right, but never stop questioning if I’m wrong.
Words to live by! I need to do more of the former while continuing to do the latter.
Definitely. We should take into account the information that other people gave us, but ultimately, we run our ships. You captured my point of view about other people’s advice. We do what’s best for us (or our dreams) regardless of what other people tell us. I mean, if the Wright brothers listen to critics, we won’t have airplane today.
Oh, I love that example of the Wright Brothers. I saw a big exhibit at the Air and Space Museum about them and their lives and the process they went through to get their plane working, and it was truly amazing.
[…] it is with great joy that I read this piece from Amy Sundberg on “Choosing your own adventure”. She makes the point rather lucidly that life is too short and must be spent living it out the way […]