Ignorance is bliss

Or, the power of naiveté

On a recent Q&A on Instagram someone asked “What do you wish you knew before you started?” 

“Before I started what?” is how I wanted to respond. Instagram is a narrow window that paints a fairly one dimensional arc of my life. (In truth, there’s been lot of arcs.) But, I knew what they were likely getting at. “...before you started building stuff in the woods.”

So, on that topic…

Shunryu Suzuki said “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

That lands. There’s not a ton I wish I knew ahead of time, because I wouldn’t want to skip past the wild-eyed fun of ignorant beginnings.

To my way of thinking, my willingness to make mistakes and not be burdened by “the right” way to do a thing has allowed projects to exist and passions to emerge where they might otherwise not have, had I known better. There’s power in naiveté. 

Don’t get me wrong—I thirst for knowledge and I still very much don’t know most of what there is to know about design, tools, construction, etc, and that bugs me. I reach out to experts, pour over content, attend conferences, and help out on projects just to steal some knowledge.

With how aware I am of all the holes in my game, I do occasionally find myself yearning for the background of a traditional building education. But, I don’t think I’d actually trade in my scrappy and ambling DIY approach for one. I prefer learning by doing. And the freedom to wander around as I do. To not be boxed in by the conventions of a trade. 

Unrelated to building, but a fun example of outsider ignorance: Cliff Young– a 61 year old potato farmer– entered into an ultramarathon (wearing his overalls, mind you) and beat the course record by two days because he didn’t know competitors typically took sleep breaks. To top it off, his running form (more of a shuffle) was all kinds of technically wrong, but ended up being recognized as more efficient and adopted by endurance runners in future races. #potatopower

Anyway, I did allow on the Q&A that perhaps some more familiarity with in-tree construction would have made for some rad Ewok Village builds on our property right out the gate. Feeling empowered to put treehouses and suspension bridges high in the sky would have been epic. And I’m sure I could identify a hundred other bits of wisdom that would have saved time and effort, or allowed for more ambitious projects, had I known them earlier.

But it’s hard to earnestly wish for that magic button when I’m so grateful for the development that has spurred from just giving various projects a shot (with equally inexperienced friends) and not knowing what to expect. The missteps are worth as much as the steps, and often more fun when the object lessons are learned alongside Molly, or with friends.

I also expect that had Molly and I better known the downsides of our property, the magnitude of road and tree maintenance, or the difficulties of construction on it, we may never have purchased our land (or any land) and had the opportunity to do half the fun stuff we did on it. “Perfect is the enemy of good” comes to mind.

Looking beyond the property and building stuff in the trees… I’d also surely be missing out on a great number of amazing experiences, projects, and relationships in life, had I been more aware of how arduous the journey, or how low the odds of success.

Point being, knowledge is great and all, but ignorance can be bliss. The wisdom earned from having done a thing— and perhaps realizing you probably shouldn’t do it again— is worth a lot more. To me anyway.