Who Cares About a Destination?

Yesterday evening, Liam finally released his article about the women's soccer team.

“It might have been your best work yet.” I say while working with Liam on what was left of our group project.

“Really, Marcus?” He asked, barely glancing up from his research.

“Really.” I confirm.

I certainly wasn’t lying as well. The article was incredibly well written from head to toe, and the others that I’d overheard talking about it earlier only confirmed my opinion.

The reason I was so certain, was because those ‘others’ in question were many of the members of the school’s sports journalism program that had been far and away the most negative about Liam in the past. And despite that, this very morning I heard them singing his praises, even if it was well out of Liam’s earshot.

I wondered how long it would take for them to fully come around to the idea of getting along well with Liam, but this was more progress than I’d expected for this whole year, let alone only half of it.

“I was hoping I could make it work, so I’m glad to hear that.” Liam said, a wave of relief showing on his face.

The article in question had detailed the team’s impressive resilience following one of the most disappointing games of their history, which was a way of writing that I hadn’t seen from Liam.

Normally, you would expect him to write something about the loss as it happened, and maybe only mention it at the end of the season if they won the championship, but here he’d used it to learn a new and more positive writing style with negative results.

He truly was impressive.

The more time that I spend working with and around him, the more I feel that there is to learn from him. Not only is he talented and consistent, but he’s never afraid to push himself towards something new, even when what he’s doing is already working just fine.

I hope that, someday, I’ll have the confidence that he shows in his work.

“Everything okay?” He asked, staring at me in concern.

I guess my worries had started to show a little more than I realized, and was about to instinctively brush away his concern, but decided to take a different approach.

“How are you able to write with so much confidence?”

It was in our nature to ask questions and seek information after all, so there was no reason to do otherwise now.

Liam stared at me for a few, wordless seconds in complete confusion.

“What confidence?” He finally asked.

I rolled my eyes before pointing out how he’d changed up his writing style like it was nothing, and then pointed out a few different styles from last year when it looked as if he would deny it.

Once I finished pointing it all out, he stopped to take my question seriously, and actually thought through his decision making for each of those examples.

“I guess, just try to think about the process, not the result.” He decided.

“Like the whole ‘enjoy the journey not the destination’ thing?” I almost laughed at the thought of Liam using such an obvious cliché.

However, he quickly shook his head.

“Not enjoy so much as focus on. If you’re content with how you write, then don’t obsess yourself with how it’s received. So if you want to switch things up, do so until you like it, not until anything else justifies the change.”

I nodded, trying to compare the advice to what I’ve been doing.

Previously, when I had tried to switch things up, I’d always anticipate the reaction to my work, and base my pleasure or dissatisfaction more on the results than I’d realized until now.

“Thanks, man.” I said, closing my book and preparing to leave for the day, our work just about done.

He gave me a slight smile, as if saying not to worry about it, and then buried his head back into his research, likely wanting to finish that tonight so our finishing touches tomorrow wouldn’t take long.

As I was walking out, however, he said one more thing.

“Don’t stress about it too much, anyways. Your work is already comfortably at a professional level if you ask me.”

I turned to stare at him, but he was still focused on his work.

If anything, that just made me more pleased with his words. If he’d said that while barely focused, I was sure he meant it.

They weren’t just words to make me feel better, or appease my ego. That was what Liam thought of my work, plain and simple.

I stepped out of the room and down to the first floor, eventually wading out into the thin layer of snow that covered the path I’d take.

Taking a long breath of cold air, I felt the weight that I hadn’t even known was bearing down on me, suddenly lift and fly far, far away.

I didn’t have to be as impressive as Liam, as versatile or as talented.

I’ll just do what I can, one step at a time. And with that last thought in my mind, I strode out onto the snow covered path. There were no footprints ahead to follow, just mine behind me at the start of the journey.