Experts Be Damned

That is a Giant baseball

That is a Giant baseball

"We might as well not even show up, according to some of the experts," Aubrey Huff said right before heading into the playoffs with the Phillies.

It's a bird, it's a plane...shit, I gotsa to run

It's a bird, it's a plane...shit, I gotsa to run

I’m not a baseball fan at all.  Hell, I'm not a sports fan.  I’ve gone to office sponsored games just because it was an excuse to get out of my 6 X 6 cubicle cell.

"We were underdogs the whole way, and all the experts out there picked us last," Huff said after the San Francisco Giants won the World Series. "But we had heart, great pitching, defense and timely hitting. Experts be damned."

Did you use deodorant?

Did you use deodorant?

Congratulations to the Giants as they did fight their way to the win.

Even I had heard from the experts, stating how the Phillies and Rangers would maul the Giants. But not only did the Giants kick ass, they literally mauled them, in baseball terms of course.

I’ve said this so many times on this site and to friends and family. The only reason experts are experts is because they are self-proclaimed, or know more about the details compared to the average person. Many have pieces of paper called degrees, or metal plates nailed onto pieces of dead wood called awards that prove their expertness. None of that helps people predict the future, especially yours.

When it comes to believing in yourself, going for what you truly want in life, and knowing who you are as a person, only you are the true expert. And even if an expert supports you, you still gotta get out there and do it, whatever that may be.

Keep a deaf ear to outsiders and listen to your heart.

Herein lies the problem. Most people don’t know what their heart says. I’ve asked what people want in life. What do they dream of? What would totally kick ass? Almost everybody says, “I don’t know.”

I didn’t know either. I had blocked out my dream so much, as it pulled my pant leg for twenty years, that I didn’t find it until I opened myself to myself. I asked probing questions. What do I like? What do I want? Ham sandwich or burrito for lunch? Blonde or brunette? How about both at the same time?

If I was financially independent, what would I do? After sleeping all day. After traveling aimlessly. After shopping for my twenty Ferraris and Lamborghinis.

I'm gonna need a bigger wallet

I'm gonna need a bigger wallet

If I was guaranteed to make a million a year, what profession would I choose? Would it be a profession?

I tried everything that had to do with the arts. Because I knew I wanted to do something creative. Martial arts. Writing. Drawing. Painting. Reading. Writing. Acting. Writing. Computer programming. Yup, that’s an art. Teaching. Film making. But the thing I returned to over and over was writing.

So I carved my life around writing. I went to writing conferences, seminars, read books on writing, discussed it, and bought software to help me brainstorm ideas. I bought a computer and printer. I got a new job that wasn’t as stressful. I had set times for writing. I wrote five days a week.

So I ask you.

What do you want?