Living in the Now: Timeless Personal Development Advice

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I learnt shorthand at a time when it was already teetering on the edge of extinction. One foot in the practical world, one in the historical archives. To be fair, it had its uses. At university, it was brilliant for note-taking. Not because I was desperate to keep up with my lecturers (I wasn't). But because there was a girl who always tried to copy my notes. Always.

She'd slide into the seat next to me, clutching her pen like she was ready to duel the paper. Except she rarely wrote anything. I cottoned on pretty quickly. When I started sitting elsewhere, she switched tactics. "Could I borrow your notes after class?"

I wasn't heartless, just quietly cunning. So I did the next best thing. I took my notes in shorthand. To her, it may as well have been hieroglyphics. She'd look at the pages with a confused smile, and I'd shrug, technically not saying no, but also making my life a lot easier.

That was probably shorthand's last real moment of usefulness in my life. It was a skill my parents had insisted I learn, "something to fall back on." Like typing. Like sewing a hem. Like cooking something edible before the guests arrived. All very noble. And very outdated.

Because falling back isn't always the safety net it's sold to be.

Someone once said (and it's worth repeating):

"The problem with having Plan B is that it often becomes Plan A."

And when that happens, your real dream quietly packs its bags and slips out the back door while you're busy being practical.

We've been conditioned to think that practicality is the ultimate virtue. That the point of learning something is so it can rescue us later when life disappoints. But what if the real power lies not in what we were told to keep "just in case," but in what we've naturally gravitated toward? The interests, passions, and talents we keep returning to, not because they're sensible but because they light us up?

A lot of the fallback skills we were pushed to acquire are now as useful as VHS repair. And yet, we carry the guilt of not using them, like we've somehow wasted them. When really, what's wasted is the energy spent propping up an idea that no longer serves us.

Our elders meant well. They grew up in a different world where jobs were often for life, and conformity was rewarded. Skills were taught with security in mind. But security isn't what it used to be. Companies restructure. Roles get automated. Job titles vanish.

And what's left? Us. With our instincts. Our interests. Our actual lived experiences. Those are the real assets now.

"Don't ask what the world needs," said Howard Thurman. "Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

Imagine if we'd been taught that in school.

Instead, we were taught how to balance a chequebook (ask someone under 30 what that is), write a CV in Times New Roman, and yes - shorthand. The irony is, many of us still rely on the very things we were told weren't "real" jobs. Creativity. Empathy. Problem-solving. The things that couldn't be measured by a certificate but now drive the modern world.

So What Now?

Now is the time to stop rummaging around in the dusty attic of fallback plans and focus on the tools we already use every day. The ones we chose. Writing. Speaking. Selling. Creating. Analysing. Building communities. Making someone's day a little easier. That's value.

This isn't a rebellion against tradition but an evolution. We can appreciate the guidance of those who came before us without being shackled by it. After all, even they would admit times have changed. They probably don't want us stuck ironing handkerchiefs and reciting Gregg's shorthand either.

Let's stop preparing for the fall and start leaning into the rise.

Because falling back sounds safe, but moving forward? That's where life happens.

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