The spirit of your desire to create will inspire others, even if you don’t know it. Someone is right now amazed at your work, your aspirations, you. By continuing to create, you make it possible for beauty, dreams, and goodness to remain a presence. Thank you for all you do in the world!
So on Monday, I spent the afternoon revising an essay on leadership, which is to appear in an anthology on pedagogy. The due date for the essay was … let’s just say, earlier. Much earlier.
I drafted the piece in February and spent weeks writing and rewriting, researching and rewriting, straying from the point and coming back.
I submitted the essay (late) and was asked to revise it. I left it on my desk for several days –many, many days! – thinking about how to approach this phase of revision. I re-read the essay and re-wrote it, confident that I had conveyed the points I was trying to make.
The editor asked me to revise the essay again.
When I submitted the draft on Monday, I was oh so tempted to add a plaintive note: “This is all I’ve got. If this version isn’t what you are looking for, I understand (Wah, wah, wah!). I’m sure I can get it published elsewhere” (Someone else will appreciate my writing).
I did not write the note. I discourage my students from offering such disclaimers before they read their pieces to an audience. “Let the work speak for itself,” I say.
Sometimes I follow my own advice.