“I believe that one of the most critical factors in the transition to becoming a conscious high performer is the degree to which your relationship to your pursuit stays in harmony with your unique disposition.” ~ Josh Waitzkin
I am reading The Art of Learning by Josh Waitzkin, slowly digesting his words, often going over sentences 2 or 3 times, essentially taking my sweet ass time about it. I came across this quote a couple of mornings ago, and while I highlighted it immediately, knowing there was something of great personal value here, I had to to read it a dozen times before the underlying feeling manifested into conscious understanding.
Seeing the forest for the trees.
The sentence is found in the chapter titled Breaking Stallions, near the beginning, after a few paragraphs discussing the difference in how a child approaches ambitious pursuits compared to an adult. At some point the fear of negative consequences overshadows the original sense of play and joy in discovery. An error made as a child is no big deal, just try again. An error made as an adult comes with a bucket load of associated outcomes that discourages the natural learning process.
Paired with situations where we may end up with teachers, parents, bosses who have a specific idea of how things should be done regardless of personal style, it is understandable how many people find learning or improving a skill disheartening. But, find a way back to where learning feels natural and barriers to motivation will come tumbling down, a path towards excellence will once again be visible.
Baby, it’s cold outside.
This winter I have the privilege of staying in a lovely apartment directly on a ski hill in the Laurentian Mountains – Mont Olympia – which has a reputation for being great for beginners. I already know how to ski quite well so I have decided this is the year to finally learn how to snowboard.
I took a private lesson the weekend before last, and as I was struggling to stand up after yet another fall I asked my instructor, “Are there many adults who decide to take up snowboarding?” We were on the bunny hill, surrounded by kids, not a single student even close to my age.
Her reply, “I do get some, but most adults don’t want to get hurt.”
Over the past week I have borrowed a board, finally found some comfy boots, and, for the first time in my alpine sports career, am wearing a helmet. I have been back on the mountain three times since that first lesson and let me tell you, I am so entirely sick of falling I have almost forgotten the initial joy I felt in the idea of learning a new sport.
Falling and facing foes.
But, I bought a lift pass knowing I could use the expenditure as motivation to get my sore arse back out there, and am determined to get off the chairlift and make it down a run without falling at least once before the end of the season. I am stubborn, and physical discomfort is rarely enough of a reason for me to stop anything, so I have high hopes for the achievement of this goal.
I learn best by doing, highly kinaesthetic, and get extremely frustrated if forced to listen to theory for too long or if someone wants to teach me by holding my hand all the way down the mountain. I will listen to a few tips and tricks, then am happy to be left alone to make a tonne of mistakes until something clicks. Super exasperating for friends trying to show me how to do something, I know.
I do not see myself becoming a ‘high performer’ in one season, but I try to keep Josh Waitzkin’s words in mind whenever I feel like giving up. I steer my mind away from what I must look like from the rotating gallery of spectators on the chairs above, focus on the joy and enthusiasm I feel when in the pursuit of learning something new, and line up to take that stupid chairlift one more time.
