In high school, I attended a writer’s workshop for short story authors. The short story always has been my favorite genre—both to compose and to read. When I was drafting my story, I wrote the end first, which is something I often do. For some reason, the culmination, the point of it all, has always felt like the place to start.
However, by the time the entire piece took shape, the ending didn’t fit at all anymore. While I sensed the problem, I couldn’t bear to rework the element I felt represented the origins of the entire story.
“Sometimes where you end up going is even better than where you set out to go,” the workshop leader advised me. “Don’t be afraid to go somewhere new, just because it isn’t the place you thought you’d be headed.”
And with that, I deleted my original final paragraph and wrote one that was honestly just as good and much more fitting for the story as a whole.
Years later, my very wise hairdresser and I were chatting. I asked him why people continue to come in and ask for haircuts that don’t flatter their features, or are terribly outdated. He told me, “oh, we all tend to hold on to the styles that have served us well in the past.”
What are you holding on to that isn’t serving you well any more, despite your own unwillingness to admit it? You might be surprised at how nicely you thrive without it. We can hold hands while you let it go, if it helps.
Thanks for reading! Happy Sunday.