Musings at 30

 

“I didn’t reach my athletic peak until I was 43.

I didn’t write my first book until I was 44.

I didn’t start my podcast until I was 45.

At 30 I thought my life was over.

At 52 I know it’s just beginning.

Keep running, never give up, and watch your kite soar.”

 

Tweet from Rich Roll, discovered through The Tim Ferriss Show podcast ep #561

 

 

This gives me hope. And inspiration. I am currently in the process of reinventing myself, of designing my life. Actually, I’ve been at the door of this process for quite some time now; pre-pandemic times, in fact. And I’m still here, with the doorway to this process just a few steps behind me, struggling to keep moving, to gather momentum. I know I’ve made some progress, but I seem to often find myself needing to jump-start things again and again.

 

I am easily stalled. By things understandable but not always excusable. And I get too comfortable with the “figuring it out” phase and end up stalling the “moving forward and taking action” phase. And so this is just me putting pen to paper — finger tip to keyboard, and just restarting things again. Moving forward into this exploration of the writing life.

 

And so with the spirit of merely doing the work and getting something done, here’s this post. Musings on a few lessons and perspectives plucked from the conversations in The Tim Ferriss Show podcast, with interviews from Seth Godin (ep #476) and Rich Roll (ep #561). I hope you find value in them as I have.

 

 

On Process vs. Outcome:

We all know the value of getting to the right answers and conclusions. But equally important, if not more, is being able to ask and construct really good questions. Here’s one from Seth Godin, and I believe Brene Brown echoed a similar thought:

“What would you do even if you knew you would fail? What would be worth doing even if things might not work out?”

 

This turns the adage “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” on its head, and offers us a fresh and essential perspective. Though the old saying is valuable because it forces us to dream big and without consequences, it fails with respect to being too outcome focused.

 

When you play that question in your head, your imagination immediately goes to the image of success and fame, and almost completely bypasses the path you’d need to take to actually get there. It baits you with a taste of an extravagant reward. It lets you off the hook and guarantees you a win. It’s a good thought experiment, but its applications stay in the realm of thought as well. Real life does not guarantee a win.

 

So. “What would you do even if you knew you would fail? What would be worth doing even if things might not work out?”

 

I like this reframing because it shifts your focus away from the expected or desired outcome, and brings it to the actual work that is going to be done, to the path that you will choose to take. The work or the path should be reward enough, should bring you joy, should be worthwhile, even if things don’t work out.

 

Seth Godin says “The beauty of it [is] it’s all about the process and not about the outcome, because you don’t get good at the outcome for a long time.”

 

Outcomes are the distant end point; we have little or no control over them. The path we take to get there on the other hand is in the here and now and within reach; that’s what we get to shape and act on. I think this question is a potent reminder to temper that outcome-driven mindset — the overthinking, over worrying, and fixating on wanting to have a good outcome, on wanting to do things perfectly and not failing.

 

“The bad news is we are falling, falling, falling. The good news is that there is nothing to hold on to.”

 

We are all just being continuously ushered into an unknown future, not knowing where the journey will take us, and how long it will last. Once we explore the idea that there is no guarantee — that there is nothing to hold on to — in whatever we choose to pursue or do, then we can bring our focus back to merely doing the work, on merely attending to the process, the here and now, instead of focusing or being distracted by a possible outcome.

 

“What would you do even if you knew you would fail? What would be worth doing even if things might not work out?”

 

The beauty of this question is that it is practical and universal. Reinventing your life? Switching careers or trying out a new hobby? Relationships? This question is a good tool to keep close. And unlike the old adage, this one thrives in the realm of the real. See for yourself.

 

 

On making mistakes:

If you want to learn how to juggle, you have to drop an enormous amount of balls.

If you want to learn how to swim, you have to accept, and be willing, that you sort of have to drown.

If you want to learn how to be creative, you have to be willing to show or produce an enormous number of bad ideas… Let’s prove that your bad ideas aren’t fatal.

 

I’ll just riff on this a bit. A reminder to myself as well.

 

—And if you want to really live this life, you have to be willing to make a lot of mistakes. A few of them will be big. You have to accept that, and be OK with it. It’s part of the process. You will disappoint people, you might even cause someone to hurt, or you might get hurt; you might fail at certain things, or you may succeed. Ultimately these can be your best teachers, and proof that you are engaged, which is what you want. Making mistakes is part of the process of learning how to live.

 

Of course, real growth and learning comes from handling and responding well to those mistakes and failures. But you know, let’s not overthink this.

 

Here’s to enjoying the Journey, the Path we take to get to where we want to be. And if stumbling and falling and making mistakes really are a part of the process of growing up, then may we stumble and fall and make mistakes as gracefully as we can, too. Cheers, and thank you for reading.

 

 

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