As Sumption
If the word itself already contains the word «ass" right from the start, how easy is it to throw that whole word around carelessly? Pretty easy, presumably.
When stereotypes meet expectations, preconceptions, and associations for a merry little get-together, things get lively. And often cheerfully well-meaning in a way that does damage. Because that’s where stories turn up that don’t yet exist, but already amount to a construct. A view of something or someone, communicated with great confidence, but whose foundation is standing there on rather wobbly ground.
The assumption loves to hang pictures on the imaginary wall of a possible future. Because it has a powerful imagination, and it uses that imagination with great relish. It’s liberating — at least for the one doing the assuming — to deliver a fairly precise account of how things will unfold. “That will never work.” How often have I had the pleasure of hearing that sentence, or something very like it. In younger years, those statements knocked me quite sideways — and the concept they disrupted was still under construction at the time. In my head, at least. And then along comes the cheerful assumption, turning the corner, already souring my idea, my project?
Yes. Why not?
After all, statements like these aren’t simply tossed into the air. Oh no, these are invariably the voices and moods of people who know what they’re talking about. Or so I assume. Because how else could these people be so explicitly certain, so definitive in their comments?
Looking back is an activity I rarely enjoy. For one thing, my rear-view mirrors are heavily fogged. For another, I hardly ever see anything new from the past. And if the past appears to have changed, things get rather murky anyway — when someone or something has been fiddling with the events.
But today I’m doing it a little longer, because I want to put the assumptions of back then under the magnifying glass.
Assumptions — especially the ones stated clearly and loudly — have a fatal effect. They demotivate. They disrupt. They water down the appetite for adventure. Although, many assumptions are well-intentioned, and apparently it takes a good deal of nerve for the well-meaning person to catapult someone’s dream into the bin.
The most important and unsettling assumption for my young life held for a long time: “You will never be able to live from writing alone.”
Ouch. That was bitter — when a lived passion for telling stories in written form hardens into bitter certainty. Because the more often I heard that sentence, or ones like it, the more credible that picture became. “They’re probably all right.”
It took many years and a great collapse before I could finally erase that sentence burned into my head. Because necessity is good at provoking one’s own creativity and leaving assumptions by the wayside. Just try. Just do it. Hardly had those corrosive assumption-statements disappeared from view than the outlook grew clearer. More creative. More joyful.
Courage? No, I barely thought of that as I crawled out of the valley of failure. It was pure pleasure — showing the presumed fate a long nose and a middle finger.
What is this man on about?
Nearly a quarter of a century ago, I saw a pile of broken pieces. My broken pieces. My companies, my assets, and my self-confidence lay shattered before me. Take care when choosing a business partner.
It was devastating and disorienting. Or as the dramatic version goes: “His life lay in ruins!”
Well, I saw it somewhat differently. Broken pieces bring luck? I don’t know about that — I’m not superstitious, since that brings bad luck (!).
“You will never recover from this, Christian.”
Another assumption for the road ahead?
Oh how lovely. But this time I didn’t listen. The dial for ignoring things can easily be turned up, to keep oneself from being thrown off course.
Today I am more than just grateful for the drama. Losing everything material and being buried in debt was the best motivation.
Necessity is the mother of invention. And in my case, of gratitude and happiness. Because that inventiveness made the Neubad Magazine and my exile to Canada possible. Against all assumptions.
Let’s be bolder, more inventive, and more creative again.
The world needs more creative loose screws than ever before.
That’s my assumption, at least
.