The experiment works on you too
You may learn your tolerance for bivalves
You’re about to eat an oyster for the first time. You might hate it, you might fall in love. There is no neutral. Either way, every experiment changes you.
An experiment is a question you ask of the universe. Sometimes the answer is yes or no. Usually the reply is hazy, because the the universe is not binary. Each experiment teaches you something new.
More than your tolerance for bivalves, you’ll learn your orientation around disgust, and your comfort with the unknown.
There is no getting it right the first time, so aim for getting it different each time. Murder your first born ideas. Every experiment adds to your catalog of what’s possible, what’s worth pursuing. You’re collecting mistakes, and mistakes are more than acceptable.
This is true for your health and your craft.
To learn to write, you must write poorly first. But more than that: you must be willing to become someone who is comfortable with writing poorly. At least for a little while.
Experiments might look like “waste,” but they’re the slow accumulation of courage. The waste is what works. Each experiment makes the next one easier. Repetition breeds affection. Each failure expands your capacity for risk.
It doesn’t matter whether you like oysters. It’s about becoming someone brave enough to find out.