The Deception of the Gradual Incline

Intellectually I know that when I invest hours and hours practicing something, it will pay off. I know this to be true both from experience and from all literature and scientific study ever done. It is as factual a phenomenon as I think we have. Why then, do I doubt it? Every. single. time.

Mount Everest

When I’m struggling in the quagmire of imperfection and straining to reach the next level of accomplishment, it never feels like I’m getting better in the moment. I glance up at the summit in the distance, a seemingly endless incline away. The practice seems futile and meaningless, motivation wanes, enthusiasm dissipates and pretty soon, what was an initial headlong, determination fueled charge at the task, has slowed to a grinding plod, usually accompanied by plenty of complaining … because it makes me feel better. I’ll even complain out loud if there’s no-one there to hear it – it just makes me feel better to get it out there rather than let it fester. I know, no-one likes a complainer, I try my best to do it when I’m alone, I promise.

Why? Why, every time, is it the same pattern? I know that the hours are leading somewhere and the struggle is a critical and necessary part of the journey. It doesn’t matter whether I’m learning to play the piano or the guitar, tackling a new exercise routine, attempting to learn to paint or draw, or learn a new language. The pattern is the same. Put in the hours, get a little better for a while, then start to feel like you’re getting worse, then sleep and repeat the next day. In the moment, I feel like I’m never going to get there, it’s never going to happen and I am not even making any progress.

Often, that feeling beats me and I give up. I’m not ashamed to say it. My history is littered with abandoned hobbies and failed projects, and mothballed equipment. That’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that, right? Because when it doesn’t beat me and I stay in the practice and commit to the struggle, somewhere down the way, something amazing happens. My gaze turns from worried, exasperated looks at the destination in the distance back on the path I’ve just travelled and I realize how high up I am. Somewhere, somehow, I got better at it. I didn’t notice it or feel it, I didn’t think I was but the evidence is right there. I look back at my first piano book which involved playing the same note 12 times in a row, or remember the first time I tried playing squash and could barely get the racket to hit the ball, let alone reach the front wall, or the first time I stood on stage bumbling my way through my lines, and I realize how far I’ve come.

I find it really interesting that I can never convince myself to anticipate that feeing though, or even trust that it will happen. That feeling of pride and accomplishment and hope when you realize you have made progress and you are getting better. When I’m in the struggle I can’t see that, all I feel is the struggle and the hours.

This leads me to two insights about myself.

Firstly, if I don’t enjoy the struggle at least a little bit, I might as well stop now (hence all the abandoned hobbies). Luckily there are pastimes for which I don’t just enjoy, but LOVE the struggle. Acting is the big one, I can’t even explain it but many parts of he struggle are so fascinating and rewarding to me that I’d probably be okay if I never made progress (though I’m sure that won’t be the case). I still have to slog through the stuff I don’t like, but there’s enough to keep me going alongside that.

Secondly, that accepting and acknowledging that progress is important when you do notice it. I used to be so self-critical that I’d dismiss any accomplishments by comparing them to the pinnacle. So what if I can beat some guy in the office at squash – it’s not like I’m a pro player or anything! Yeah so I can play the star wars theme song on the piano, big deal – can’t get that frikkin’ Bach sonata down. Of course, this is a larger issue than just the domain of learning and growing, but it is here that I’ve started to beat it. I don’t feel immodest in doing so anymore (immodesty, of course, being the very deadliest of the deadly sins). I get to recognize and enjoy when I’ve done something good. I don’t have to shout it from the rooftops or show off about it (see aforementioned deadly sins), but I get to recognize it and enjoy it. I think that’s important, I think it keeps you going and fuels your passion and builds self-esteem.

So, here is today’s take away in a nice TL:DR sort of way. Have patience, trust the work and when you notice improvements, own it, enjoy it and hold on to it. It’s good for you, I promise. Oh yeah, and don’t be immodest, you’ll burn in the 7th fiery circle of hell…honest…my mind gremlins told me so it must be true.

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