A friend asked me to write something for his wedding, in a booklet they’ll give to the people attending the wedding at the church.
I’ve never wrote something like this and my first instinct was to google something to get an idea of what to do, what they expect, and so on.
I then realized that there couldn’t be a blueprint for this, an instruction set.
There is no right way because it doesn’t exist.
It’s new, and it’s scary because no one knows how to do it, so it’s like a first time.
At the company I work for there are some young people learning to program. They’re young and inexperienced and they often ask question about “how to fix things”.
And while I have the answers most of the time sometimes I don’t, and in those cases there are no blueprint or stackoverflow posts to help me out.
In those cases we are the one finding our solution, our fix for the first time in history. There is no background, no connection, it’s a newborn child that we must find and teach.
It’s scary because you are alone with yourself, and sometimes I forget the beauty that comes with this immense power of being the one without the blueprint.
The creativity sparks, the energy flows not because it’s new, but because it’s your damn job to finish this, to find a solution, to find the solution to the riddle.
It’s easy to forget it in a world full of YouTube videos about everything.
Today I am grateful that I was able to remember that there are things with no blueprint, there are things you must do when you don’t have the slightest clue of what should be accomplished and how, and in those moments you do it anyway and you learn that this is the way life was (partially) built.
There were no blueprints millions of years ago, and all worked out great.