I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I am not an expert. I know a bit about a lot of things and a lot more about a couple of things but there is nothing that I know inside out. I love music, but I can’t quote you dates, and albums, and lyrics, and whatever. I can tell you how it makes me feel and that I like it, and possibly some reasons why I like it. But that’s as far as I go.
I love gadgets, and spend a lot of time fiddling with them, but it’s more about how the fit into a daily schedule rather than the specs and intricacy of the features. I may use it a bit more effectively than the next person, but that’s about it.
I am a writer and a poet. It’s what I’m passionate about although I’m still not quite sure whether I like it or not. I’m still learning the nuances of writing and suspect I will probably be doing so for the rest of my life. I can’t quote you lines from Achebe, or Chaucer, or whoever.
I get the impression that the whole ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ thing is a mild putdown, and for a very long time, I felt bad about not being an expert. A master. I have decided to embrace it. It has treated me well. I was able to work in television because I could comfortably jump from a magazine show, a music show, and entrepreneurship show to a show on men (well, it did help that I’m a man with that last one). I was able to edit a lifestyle magazine for men that covered everything for restaurants, gadgets and grooming to politics, spirituality and entertainment because I am schizophrenic in my interests and my knowledge.
I think I should get business cards that say ‘Jack of all trades’. Why do I need to focus on one thing solely and become a total expert? I put a roof over my head and food in the fridge because I am not an expert.
Just a thought.