I’m going to start with a story I’ve used before, but this time it comes in a different context.
(Your intent matters…)
The Young Archer
A young archer spent years honing his skills, with the hopes of earning a medal at the annual festival in the countryside. His every spare moment went into practice, and the collection of the finest wood and materials for his bow, and even into the study and forecasting of the wind.
Finally, he was ready to make the journey to the faraway competition.
When we was three days out, he began to see signs that he was on the right road. Occasionally, he’d find a target painted on a tree, with an arrow protruding from the middle. Seeing the opportunity to keep his skills fresh, he fired a few shots into the center of those targets and moved along.
Two days away, he started seeing more of the trees with the arrows sticking out of the bulls eyes. “My competitors appear to be skilled and consistent. I hope to be worthy,” he muttered to himself. The young archer took a few more practice shots and continued his long ride.
The next day, and one day before his arrival for the contest, he came upon a farmhouse in a meadow. The farmhouse was covered in targets, as was the neighboring barn. Every target was decorated with a single arrow sticking out of the middle. Knowing that he would have no chance against such an opponent, he swallowed his pride and decided to learn what he could from this master.
He knocked on the door, and a much older man answered. “Can you please show me how you are able to perform such feats?” the young man asked. “Sure,” replied the old farmer. Then the old man picked up a wretched old bow, and a single arrow that could not in any way be considered straight. “Follow me.”
The old man walked into the clearing, and faced the side of the barn. The young archer was taking mental notes, wanting to see how the old man tempered his breathing and his tremors; if there was some technique to better gauge the distance. The young man was about to ask a question about hesitation and focus when the old farmer quickly pulled back the string and fired the arrow straight into the broad side of the barn.
He then walked to the wall, reached through a window to grab a small can of paint, and proceeded to draw circles around the arrow on the wall.
The story — used in the context of a lesson about picking one possibility and focusing on it to completion — was appropriate.
The story — used in the context of a lesson about precision — is inane.
Intent
Let me tell you about the second-useful class I took in college. If I told you that I was a Broadcast Journalism major with a minor in Political Theory, and that I had 40 hours in hard sciences and calculus from my time as a Geology major, what would you guess that class would be?
You likely did not say Advanced Poetry Writing.
The beauty of that class was in the focus on Intention.
Every word had a purpose, and was examined for placement, denotation and connotation.
- Is it a good word?
- Does it carry loaded meaning?
- Does it work on multiple levels?
- Does it contribute to alliteration or ambiance?
Words have a physical, mental, and spiritual component. How they appear on the page and engage the ear — how they stimulate the mind to grasp the exact concept we wished to convey — and how their selection and arrangement inspires and initiates action.
All of the above go to the concept of being Intentional — which cuts to the heart of most of today’s communication mis-steps.
People are saying things they shouldn’t, or unintentionally saying things other than what they meant. Their hearts, as they were, are in the right place, but they never boiled it down to their intent.
Intention in Motion
How many product launches fail because the campaign was built around a shiny object instead of a solid objective?
How many emails could have been simpler and caused less grief if they had been just left at a declarative statement in the subject line? (I’m guilty of this… there’s a nagging feeling of incompletion when you send a body-less email. Gmail even warns you as though it were a bad thing, leading to unnecessary text that is thoughtless at best, and thoughtless and insulting at worst!)
How many idea pitches drop miserably because the audience wasn’t factored into the presentation?
How many resumes and cover letters gather dust before finding the shredder, because the sender didn’t tweak it for the single purpose of that job opening?
Advanced Poetry Writing was an exercise in making every word matter, which was a great skill to have as a TV news reporter, always working under time constraints. (Even when I added words in for polish and flair, it’s because I had first cut the waste and fat, leaving room for the flavor.) It was an outstanding skill to have for one in a field where 140 characters isn’t a suggestion, it’s a boundary.
And even though my instructor left a lot to be desired in her hatred of men and her diatribes against hegemony, it remains the second-most important class I took in college.
For the most important class, we ratchet the ladder of intent up from words to ideas…
Although I am now a writer, my degrees are in chemical and environmental engineering (and I worked in the chemical industry for many years). I always told people that the most important class I took in high school wasn’t calculus and wasn’t chemistry but was journalism. It taught me how to organize my thoughts and convey them in a straight-forward way, something that was very important throughout my career. Of course now that I’m a business and technical writer, it’s even more important to me.
Thanks Nancy!
Too many people are getting out of higher ed without a proper foundation in logic — and at least the introduction to the Scientific Method gets you some piece of critical thinking and challenging assumptions.
Hope to see you around here…
Some writers approach writing and the creation of a single sentence much like a blacksmith would forging steel into a perfect blade.
Conversely, some writers overthink it. But most would benefit from knowing how (and when) to deploy such scrutiny.
I have to agree with Nancy. My background is in mechanical engineering. It’s interesting how the core engineering courses are valued higher than an English or technical writing course. Oddly enough, once you enter the work force as a professional what differentiates you from the other engineers is how well you communicate.
Bingo. I think a LOT of people will find — when they truly break down the skills that have helped them the most were outside of their major curriculum.