I'm not an expert...

But I'm talking about experts in this newsletter

I recently read some tips for newsletter success and the author suggested it was a good idea to “position yourself as an expert on your topic outside of your newsletter.” This sounds great, but I don’t know where I would position myself as I don’t think I’m an expert here or anywhere else. Even if I know a lot, I still find myself answering questions with, “I’m not an expert but…” because my knowledge and experience might not be completely applicable to your situation.

At the same time, an expert seems to pop up around the corner of every instagram post. Exploring social media can range from a steady drip to a constant barrage of people trying to share useful information, wisdom, or perceived expertise to help with almost any situation or lifestyle we can imagine. It can also be a delightful buffet of ideas and helpful suggestions that turn into a delicious meal with people we can relate to and find that we feel less alone in our struggles. I’ve learned so much from wise women about all the things I can let go of, unlearn, and relearn as I journey further into motherhood.

I appreciate having access to all of this but I also feel tired of the way that expert knowledge is prioritized over the knowledge and experience that we all have. Teachers, parents, elected officials, magazines, shows, advertisements, employers, and of course the internet, tell us what we should do, how we should look, what good people do, or what it means to be successful. Much of this is done with concern for others, hoping to mold and encourage everyone to find their way to a good and successful life. Some is done with a desire for control or to make money selling products or ideas or lifestyles that people think they need because experts say so. Very little of it tells me that I can trust myself and that learning to do so is perhaps the hardest and most important thing in life.

With so many experts available, it is easy to forget that we can all contribute, we can develop our skills, and explore our interests, even if we are still learning. Letting go of the need for expertise makes room for experimentation and play (which might eventually lead to great skills and knowledge, but it doesn’t have to). We can also offer our non-expert insight based on our own experiences. When I am seeking answers, I often just want reassurance that I’m not going completely the wrong way and maybe a little guidance from someone who has walked a similar path.

One of my kids got a basketball for Christmas and before the snow fell we spent time bouncing on the quiet streets in our neighborhood and at the local basketball court. I know nothing about basketball but I deliberately stopped myself from offering or encouraging particular techniques for dribbling or shooting. As soon as a child picks up a ball or does a handstand or paints a picture it is tempting to sign them up for a team or lessons or tell them a better way. While that in no way guarantees expertise, it is also not necessary for enjoyment or even proficiency. Most adults quickly dismiss their abilities at sports or art or baking because they don’t excel, but the expectation that we only do the things we are good at often keeps us from trying it out or practicing even if we’ll never be great.

There is certainly value in honing your craft, developing proficiency and even expertise in something you love to do, diving deep into your career or passion. It can be important, supportive, even essential to seek those who know more or who can give us answers and guidance in difficult situations. Sometimes we need the people who know the most and who can do the very best. But, when we assume there are always others who know better, we are always looking outside of ourselves instead of coming closer to really knowing who we are and what we need.

Warmly,

Anna