When You Have Nothing to Say
The Field Review: TFR-061
Last week was the first time in over a year I didn’t publish an issue of The Field Review. You probably didn’t notice, but I did.
But honestly, I didn’t really have much to say.
Life has been pretty busy. My day job keeps my mind occupied for the majority of my week and we’re preparing for the pending arrival of our first kiddo. Outside of that, there’s not much going on.
So what do you do when you have nothing to say?
I think the answer that that question is to say nothing, and listen instead.
Listen to what others are saying. See what others are doing.
My wife and I are getting more unsolicited parenting advice than we ever asked for over these last few weeks. A third-trimester pregnancy during a Fourth of July weekend will bring that. Some of it helpful, most of it not.
Many things have changed about parenting over the last three or four decades, but honestly, the basics have remained the same.
We’ve spent a lot of time listening to horror stories, funny stories, tips, tricks, hacks and have officially ran out of thumbs to count all of the rules of thumbs. In all of that listening, we’ve been deciphering what’s helpful and what’s not.
Yes, it will be hard. But yes, it will be rewarding.
I’ve also been doing a lot of listening at work. To new ideas, and to old ones. Trying to figure out the line between them that will lead us to the right answer.
Like parenting, I’ve been privy to a lot of talk on ‘the right way’ to do things, and ‘the wrong way’ to do things. I’ve listened to a lot more complaints than excitement when it comes to getting the work done.
There seem to be infinitely more reasons on why something can’t be done than there are reasons why they can be done.
The best part is when you start highlighting the positives, you’ll start hearing the complaints about you get louder. It’s an interesting inverse relationship to listen to.
As always, the woods are my favorite thing to listen to. However, the summer season can be somewhat of a dull one for the ears of the midwest outdoorsman.
The gobbles have stopped, the ducks are just for show, and the deer are busy growing their velvet crowns. I’m not really a bass fisherman, and I respect our already fragile Ohio trout populations too much than to try and stress them (and myself) out in 90+ degree heat, so I wait for September.
Summer is a puzzle that requires a lot of watching and listening to understand. Deer move differently in the summer than they do in the fall. They look different. They act different.
I’ve set up cameras to try and understand their summer stories because unlike their feathered friends, the white-tailed deer doesn’t like to talk too much. The only vocal conversation they seem to want to have is a harsh and vulgar nostril ‘SHOO’ to let me know I’m not welcome in this particular bedding area. Come back another time.
I enjoy listening and comparing notes with other sickos like me who get enjoyment out of sweating our asses off cutting trails, setting stands, and checking cameras hoping and dreaming of November cold-fronts and getting glimpses of old ten-point friends we saw last fall.
I know I’ll reach a point where I have more to say, but for now I’m just listening.
From The Field Review Archives:
The Field Review is a space for exploring the intersection of work, life, and the great outdoors. It’s about figuring ‘it’ out—whatever your ‘it’ might be.
Every Sunday at 10AM EST, I share ideas, insights, and conversations that help break through the noise, offering a real look at how we can all keep moving forward.
If you have any thoughts, questions, or topics you'd like me to explore in future newsletters, feel free to reach out!
Venture Onward,
Jack
Nice work, Jack. Listening is underrated these days.
A wise, well-articulated piece. Thanks for penning this; I enjoy your writing, Jack.
My takeaway: there are seasons to produce, and others to rest and observe. Knowing which one you’re in and being present to it can be a gift.