The most common type of email I get is pretty simple. It’s normally a kid with a plan to be something – say, a journalist – but they look at it like it is only a matter of being crowned with that title. And they want to know what I think they should do.

The answer is to try to break it all down. If they stopped and looked at the histories of the people hoped to be, they’d see more than a long history of writing employment. They’d find a variety of jobs and intermissions and activities and experiences, many of which have nothing to do with writing but had everything to do with getting them to where they are. Rarely is the path to something paved in rote emulation of the end you have in mind; you don’t write your way into a writing career, it is the child of having something to say.

Being a journalist, or whatever you hope to become, is a sum made up of many parts. Realize that the conglomeration of those parts is a long way down the road and focus on the pieces – the ones that you can do now despite lacking resources and access. A place to start? Judgment.

I religiously read Dear Prudence. I can never figure out how people find themselves in these situations. Adults, their whole life thrown off balance by some murky question of etiquette. Otherwise successful people perplexed as to how they seem to constantly alienate friends or family. It makes no sense to me – how are their lives like this?

What do they all seem to have in common? Comically bad judgment. And a lack of awareness that it may be the source of their problems.

When you make a decision, invest in a concept, make an assumption, your job is to listen to the response. To notice what kind of problems you seem to find yourself in and ask “Why does this keep happening to me?”

Some people don’t do this. No matter how many times their sense of direction leads them right into a wall, they get up and question why it was there and then do it again. If someone were to explain to them how to go around it, they would interrupt and continue on down the same road, expecting different results.

Partly, it stems from a faulty notion that we are never the problem, when in actuality, we almost always are. We take for granted that our priorities are good guides and that our gut is properly calibrated and is to be trusted. As we ignore the feedback that may call this into question, it becomes more and more psychologically difficult to accept that it may consistently wrong. Like an addict, it reaches a point where that faith – despite the mounting evidence to the contrary – is all you have left.

The idea is to treat your instincts like a rifle scope – to be sighted and dialed in before use. The little voice in your head doesn’t come fine tuned for any specific situation, remember it was designed for an environment far different than the one we live in. I don’t think there is any shame in realizing that you tend to drift to the left or the right. Call it a fact, or a weakness, a disability or a muscle that can be strengthened. Just call it something and question it constantly.

A little over two years ago I wrote this post about driving that ended up being controversial. I was writing about this thing that seems to happen in LA where you find yourself in side street traffic and look up ahead and realize it is completely and needlessly the fault of one person. Now, I’ve learned since then not to get so angry about it but I still don’t understand how it happens.

I mean, don’t they notice? Don’t they see that there are many people behind them and none in front? And if a car honks in frustration, how do they justify getting upset at them?

I still think its a good metaphor too. What kind of life is that? To be the person that prevents someone else from what doing what they want to do, even if you think that activity might be unnecessary or dangerous. You don’t get anything out of it. There is no award for ‘keeping those speeding teenagers in line.’

You could use a bunch of different examples to make this point. Etiquette in waiting rooms, or reclining the seat on an airplane are good ones but driving is my favorite. If people are trying to get past and you’re the impediment, you should pull over—just as if your political views block reasonable requests from reasonable people, you should reevaluate how you came to those beliefs. You certainly shouldn’t be offended that those people would have the nerve to be upset at you about it.

Survey the scene and ask if you’re the problem. It’s never fun to find out the answer is yes, but it’s better continuing it any longer.