Courage to let the work speak

We tossed the topic back and forth, trying to find the words to his story. I want tangible and abstract examples to move through the same depth his photo coach talks about. Move in close, then back far away – let the story breathe. He asked me how long I've been doing this.

Well, I said, hesitating because I've sensed this question the last two days. I'm 24, I told him, and I went to school for this. So... a handful of years.

I laughed at the sound of shock in his voice because it sounds the same everywhere I go.

But shouldn't I be good at something that transcends hobby and occupation? If I've spent five years practicing communication of feelings and events, shouldn't I know how to do this better than someone who hasn't kept a daily journal or a blog or an inner dialogue that wonders at motivation and sees juxtaposed action and belief everywhere she goes? It's not really something I just do.

We see age before most other things when we encounter a stranger. We compare and contrast experience based on the figure. We say someone looks good for their age or has the wisdom of years. We describe children as precocious. We calculate maturity based on how far removed a person is from age 18. And I think we squash each other when we do it. Age is a piece but it's never the whole.

I consider the stories we're telling at this workshop and the varying ages of subjects. We push past age because it's cliche to sum up a life with a number. I read recently that researchers have developed a way to assess a person's age by their health rather than their years.

But you can't control perception. I can't criticize someone's raised eyebrow. All I can do is say what's in my head and write what I know and let it all speak for itself. Because we're like the spiders! And the courageous are okay with that.