Similar Posts

  • |

    #19 The first time feels funny, the fiftieth time you fly

    In a podcast segment about practicing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu,Tim Ferris and Joshua Waitzkin discuss a principle for managing expectations they call:

    “The first rep doesn’t count.”

    Tim Ferris, Josh Waitzkin: https://tim.blog/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/148-josh-waitzkin.pdf

    In other words: when performing a move for the first time, your body and mind need to get used to it. Gradually,you’ll get better – and the more aware you are of your body, the faster you’ll make progress – but judging someone on their first attempt doesn’t say much about their future potential.

    This holds true for many skills in life, like starting a daily publishing habit.

    Publishing a post or a video for the first time always feels funny (and often frightening). At this stage, judgment or feedback is futile. It’s all about jumping the hurdle of getting started

    Publish five times, you’re ready to get some feedback (both from yourself and from others)…

    Publish for the fiftieth time, and you’re well on your way to turn it into a habit… and fly.

    So whenever I start something new, I manage my expectations by repeating to myself:

    The first time feels funny. The fiftieth time I fly.

    And for bonus points: What would it feel like the 500th time?

  • |

    #218 The United States of “If I wanted, I could”

    The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant. 

    Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”

    That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.

    Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?

    Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?

    Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?

    Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?


    I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization. 

    Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.

    But even if they were, it doesn’t matter. 

    Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.

    Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”

    Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.

  • | |

    #39 Knowledge transfer and time collapse

    Knowledge transfer always implies time collapse. Because learning an insight from someone else usually takes less long than figuring it out yourself.

    Take books. The writer usually spent considerable time researching and distilling the topic and coming to good insights (time I might not be able to dedicate).

    Thanks to that writer, I can now consume that knowledge in, say 6-12 hours of reading the book. A considerable time collapse…

    But when does time collapse go to far?

    Can I read a 1-page summary of that book and truly say I grasp the topic?

    When your brain gets space to breathe, knowledge grows and nuance shows. It needs time and repeated exposure to absorb information, make connections, and discover new insights.

    So a one-page summary isn’t necessarily too shallow… On the contrary: it collapses time so much that information becomes very dense.

    What with the evolution towards short-form online content? The primary purpose of TikTok videos and Instagram reels might be to entertain, but the trend is clear and spills over into education, our attention span, and knowledge transfer: shorter, more shallow, yet more dense.

    Too little time collapse and we can’t make progress.
    Too much time collapse and knowledge collapses with it.

  • |

    #132 Unlimited Learning

    Learning often implies discovering what you can’t do.

    I can’t write and convey what I want to say. I can’t speak Spanish fluently. I can’t do this yoga pose.

    For many people that’s also the final destination, when in fact, it’s only the start.

    We’re missing a word: Learning is discovering what you can’t do yet.

    Or, even better:

    Learning is discovering what, through diligent practice, you’ll soon be able to do.

    After all, actions overrule thoughts.

    I can’t write and find the right words… yet. But with diligent practice, soon, I’ll be able to convey what I want to say.

    I’m not able to do this yoga pose… yet. But with diligent practice, soon I will.

    I can’t speak Spanish fluently… yet. But with diligent practice, soon I will.

    That’s all there is to it.

    Discover your current limit. Realize that through diligent practice, you’ll overcome it.

    Then you’ll find a new limit. And through diligent practice, you’ll overcome it.

    Until you find a new limit, which you’ll overcome… through diligent practice.

    Where do you let the discovery of your current limit be your end station?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *