Art of Learning

I can’t do this yoga pose – yet.
I can’t speak Spanish – yet.
I can’t keep my attention stable during meditation – yet.

I can’t do this – yet.

(Inspired by The Practice by Seth Godin. Highly recommended.)

Performance gap: the frustrating gap between how you know something should be done in an ideal world and how you currently do it. 

One implication of the performance gap: you don’t have to master this skill today.

Another implication, maybe even more important: your idea of how something “should be done” is probably wrong anyway.

Because as you practice and gain mastery, you’ll also gain progressive insight: a more nuanced intellectual understanding of the skill you’re practicing.

What I thought was a “good” yoga session six months ago, I now see as a session full of misalignment and cramped muscles.

What I thought of as a solid piece of writing six months ago, I now see as an argument full of holes and points of improvement.

Sometimes, progressive insight is just about more nuances.

Sometimes, progressive insight shows that your initial intellectual understanding completely missed the mark.

There’s only one way to find out: practice: Sculpt away, day by day. 

You can labor for years on a business with little results until suddenly it blows up.

Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you continue your journey until the next big jump.

You’re never done building your business.

You can practice a yoga pose for months with little results until suddenly your body understands, and you’re able to perform it.

Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you continue your journey of discovery.

You’re never done practicing yoga.

You can practice a language for months without being able to string together any sentences until suddenly, your brain understands, and you’re able to speak with ease.

Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you’ll continue your language-learning journey.

You’re never done learning a language.

Performance gap: the frustrating gap between the way you know something should be done in an ideal world and the way you currently do it.

I know I should write daily blog posts in advance so I have a buffer in case something comes up and I don’t get to write. Yet here I am, writing this daily insight hours before the publication date.

I know what the perfect downward-facing dog pose in yoga looks like. Yet when I perform it myself, I am far off from that ideal pose.

I know all the ingredients that make up a solid, convincing speech. Yet when I write one myself, I am only able to incorporate a few of those ingredients.

Learning, then, is closing the gap between your intellectual understanding of an ideal product, action, or skill, and your current rendition of it.

Don’t be so hard on yourself for your current performance.

You can’t expect to turn intellectual understanding into mastery and internalized knowledge right away.

You don’t have to master this today.

I can believe I’ve published the perfect insight – until I narrate the podcast version a couple of weeks later and suddenly notice subtle typos and, sometimes, logical flaws. The typos and flaws were always there – but did I make a mistake earlier? 

I can believe I’ve nailed this yoga pose – until, during one session, I suddenly sense some tension in my neck I had never noticed before. The tension was always there – did I make a mistake earlier? 

I can believe I’ve cooked the perfect dish – until one day, I notice that the sauce tastes even better with a little less salt. But, even before I noticed it, the improvement was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?

Maybe learning is not about errors but about gaining ever more subtle awareness.

I can’t just say, “today, I’m going to be excellent at writing.”

Excellence is an outcome: a result of focused daily actions.

And one of the fastest ways to excellence is the pursuit of failure.

Not just making accidental mistakes but actively seeking them out.

Did I write nonsense today? Did I understand why I was writing nonsense? Have I learned something from writing that nonsense that will help me write something less nonsensical tomorrow?

The pursuit of failure is painful, especially for perfectionists like me.

But once ego, perfectionism, and the fear of failure make way for a commitment to the process, there’s much to learn from daily mistakes.

Getting better at something isn’t about making no mistakes.

It’s not even about making fewer mistakes.

It’s about repeating fewer rookie mistakes, so there’s space for you to notice more subtle errors.

If you think you’re making fewer mistakes, you’re either not progressing past your current skill level, or you’re not paying attention.