directionally challenged

I have a difficult time following directions.

Wait! Before you go thinking that I can't find my way around places, even places I've never been, think again. I know how to find a place. I even know how to find a place with minimal directions. My inner compass is just fine and I'm looking to get lost sometime soon because I like the journey so much better.

No, what I'm talking about is the kind of directions like, "sign this paper first, then call, then send the paper." I will read this and think, "Oh, I have to sign this paper and send it right away." I sign it, send it and then spend the next day looking for the phone number which is on its postal journey home.

Perhaps I've told you this story before. Tell me if I have.

I wrote great papers in graduate school. My writing has gradually improved regularly and annually since I was nine years old and wrote the book Country Mowse goes to the city. I don't know if I plagiarized that story or if someone stole my idea, regardless the book has been published under someone's name other than mine. My version had a lovely white vinyl cover, with graphite text and graphics, and bound with string and Elmer's. The artist was me too, so you know. My drawing has not improved as regularly or gradually.

Anyway, finally in my mid-thirties my papers in graduate school were fetching me A's and B's. I got a reputation. I did well, and worked hard on my papers. I had a reputation all right.

There was one consistent problem. I never quite followed directions given on assignments.

A conversation with one professor went like this:

"You wrote a great paper, why exactly are you here to see me about it?"

"Dr. [Psychologist/Professor] I am concerned with the grade I got."

"But you got an A."

"I see that. What concerns me is the grader's remarks."

[Professors rarely grade most of the papers they assign. They have graders who read and grade our papers. Usually the two are in such kahoots that you cannot budge the professor into changing your grade despite the grader's obvious and complete lack of reason].

"I'm sure the grader had good reason to give you that grade." He was smiling at me and trying not to giggle. I could see that!

"Yes, but you see, she says here 'Your writing is excellent and you make your case well. Good work.'"

"That sounds positive."

"Yes, but she goes on, 'However, you did not follow the assignment. It seems you did a very different assignment than the one given to you in class.'"

"Oh, I see. You do have difficulty following directions." Indeed, they HAD been talking about me. [I assume everyone talks about me]

"Shouldn't I have got a worse grade than this?!! I mean, I didn't even write the paper the way we were assigned to. I'm such a dork. I don't understand, is she just humoring me, feeling sorry for me?"

I was crying by this time because, believe it or not, I was mortified that I ONCE AGAIN had not followed directions. Who cared about the grade!

This is my life. Not only do I not follow directions I'm also completely oblivious to the fact.

He went on, "You deserve that grade and I won't change it no matter how much you cry. [at this I cracked a teary smile] However, you should know that you are an awfully good writer. Very bright. You are in the top 5% of writers in your student body."

This made me cry more. I was indeed struck by this figure, that he actually had me in a percentile. But I still felt like a charlatan. He ushered me out of his bookish and shrinkish office door with a "Keep up the good work" which I found absurd and funny all at once.

I continued cranking out papers in graduate school, and graders continued to give me good grades for writing the wrong papers.

I think that is the story of my life. My story is one of inadvertantly not following directions and getting away with it.

People in my life think it is interesting how I manage to do things that they had to do the "right" way. Actually they can become slightly hostile sometimes.

I figure I'll publish in the same way. It isn't like I didn't deserve those great marks I was given in school. The subjects were just wrong, not poorly written. The truth is that I got good grades for my writing, not the assignment [except for one professor who decided to be a !*%?&* and actually give me a D...the audacity]. I wrote great papers on the wrong subjects! I write well enough to publish, but I doubt my writing will get out there in the conventional way. It is obvious I can't sell myself...really, I ask for worse grades, not better.

"But," you ask, "how does this translate into real life anyway?" [glad you asked]

It translates into unconventionality. Unconventionality is my language. I am unconventional, but not purposely. I don't try to be this way, I'm just wired to see things differently. If you give me a task with directions I will immediately begin strategizing how to do a great job. Those details will certainly include 20% of the original directive. Yet 80% is composed of my own thoughts on the matter, which may or may not have any direct bering on the project.

"But," you ask, "why is it important for me to know this?"

I'm glad you asked. It isn't important. But, I think that it is very important to understand the basics about those we know. What makes them do the things they do and how they do them. Each person has some base M.O. through which they accomplish the assignments in their lives.

I thought it was gracious that all those graders gave me good grades despite the fact that I was handicapped in the area of following directions. Grace is what I hope I can learn to give more of to people in my life. If I see them following directions exactly, I must immediately stop being jealous...for example...and give them grace for being so exact and good at it.

Also, the world can be unkind to the unconventional, but remember, some of the most influencial people in history have also been the most unconventional. And I don't believe for a minute that most of them even knew exactly what they were doing, they just did it.

In the same way, I hope that God's grace will shine brightly in my own unconventional life. Because, really, I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm just trying to do the assignment.