How do I enter? That was always one of the questions I would ask the director when I worked in theater or TV. What is he (the character) thinking? What has just happened? I realize, at that moment, these are the questions that guide my current journey.
Backcountry driving, just like backcountry anything, can reveal much to you. Like some divination tool, it tells you mostly where you are going by revealing where you’ve been. That’s what I tried to do when I drove halfway across the country to Proctor’s campus last weekend in great anticipation of the longer journey that awaited me as a member of the Proctor community. During this meandering drive from the midwest, I figured I could only focus on what lies ahead.
We like to be right. It’s affirming, pumps us up, and boosts confidence. We crave it, moving from one island of affirmation to the next, hopscotching the confidence squares. We can be talking about sports, politics, religion, race, or the best way to fix a lawnmower. We feel good when we get it right, when we “win,” when we get that chemical hit of dopamine. Gradually, however, with perspective, we realize that being right isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes being wrong can be a good thing.