You may have noticed that the Scriblerians are in the process of dividing our shared blog into regular columns about our topics of interest. Some of us haven’t settled on a theme, but so far, I think Tim Akers has decided on “The Imagitorium,” Lisa Godfrees has chosen “Fortune Cookies from God,” and Gretchen has named her column “Write-Run-Live.”
Are we there yet?
So maybe you can guess that I am going with “Are we there yet?” I heard that question so many times on road trips! At the first stop sign. At the city limits sign. At the state line (a day later, because Texas).
And since this is the first blog post for the column, I thought I would go with “Learner’s Permit” as my first topic.
My son turns fifteen in a few weeks, and his sister just turned seventeen. She’s been biding her time about getting her driver’s license; he’s been revving the gas to get his. Obviously, they have two very different outlooks on driving. Meantime, I’m just dreading what will happen to our insurance premiums. For real, though. But I’m not discussing learner’s permits for getting a driver’s license.
Learner’s permit is intended in a more figurative sense. No, Patty, we are not there yet. In fact—tighten your seat belt—we are not headed to any one destination in particular.
The joy is in the journey, and this column is about overcoming the obstacles, welcoming the surprises, and riding with the windows open (unless it’s summer in Texas).
There’s always more to learn . . .
There is always more to learn, so give yourself permission to continue learning. See what I did there? Give yourself a learner’s permit, a pass to investigate. Instead of saying, “I’m too old to learn to draw,” do what fellow Scriblerian, Lisa, is doing and give yourself permission. Age has nothing to do with the desire and ability to learn.
Instead of saying, “I’m too young to learn to program,” just go and learn. Unlike learning the dangerous business of driving, you don’t usually need a teacher to get started. In fact, I believe that true learning happens best when you wrestle to learn what you can on your own for a short time. Then go find a teacher. By that time, you’ll know enough to be dangerous, and you and your instructor will be able to build on what you’ve taught yourself.
By the way, Lisa drew the picture for her Fortune Cookie post. Isn’t it great?
What have you always wished you could do? Give yourself a learner’s permit!