Why being 'pretty good' at something is often the most difficult space.

Sometimes it all feels like an uphill battle.

I was speaking with a friend earlier this week who was going through a minor crisis of self.

A while ago, she started an engaging newsletter, that still gets regular reads and interactions from her readers, however, it’s not growing as she’d like. She had a chat with someone she had just met, who also had a newsletter, however, this person had many more subscribers than my friend. She made some suggestions that were helpful, including asking questions, one of which my friend had heard before.

Although this conversation may ultimately have helped give her some direction and may be what she needs to grow her newsletter after a few months of stagnation—or at least a step she can try—she was caught in a spiral of self-recrimination for not having done any of this before.

I was reminded of a boxing seminar that I took years ago when I was regularly competing in martial arts and at the peak of my game. The instructor leading the seminar made slight tweaks to my form and gave me simple suggestions that instantly made a difference in my punches. I was amazed. I don’t even remember the specific tweaks. What I remember is the feeling that I had that these were such tiny little things that I could have been doing all along.

Fortunately, I took a second to think back to when I first started punching things and realized that these tweaks would have made no sense to me then. I didn’t have the body awareness to keep my guard hand up instinctively or to automatically strike at an opening as soon as it was revealed. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have recognized half the openings.

Before my first international competition. I lost every fight and cried in the locker room. Forgetting how many fights I had won to get there in the first place.

Yes, this is another way of saying that you have to walk before you can run. Something all of us have to be constantly reminded of as we strive to improve ourselves in different areas.

Unless you discover a natural talent at something—and sometimes even if you are very talented—you have to do something poorly before you can do it well. In order to improve there has to be something there to improve. You can’t edit a story that hasn’t been written. You can’t revamp a blog or a newsletter that doesn’t exist. You shouldn’t beat yourself up for not doing something perfect when you’ve never done it before.

I think sometimes these feelings are harder to overcome when you’re a high-achiever or performing at a high level elsewhere in your life. Perhaps for many years. It takes courage and mental fortitude to jump back into that uncomfortable novice position. And I think it may even be harder at the intermediate level.

When you just start something you’re more willing to give yourself a break or two. You’re learning! It’s expected! Perhaps you’re even excited and having fun mucking around in this new endeavor. Your creative synapses are firing, your self worth is getting a little boost, because you’re doing the thing! And it’s amazing! And you should celebrate that.

By the time I was in the upper ranks in martial arts, I had several friends that were a few belts behind me. The most exciting time in the system that I trained in, was getting that first middle belt. Not only were you no longer ‘a beginner’ but now you got to learn to spar! You were actually going to punch and kick other people who were going to be trying their best to punch and kick you back! This is the real stuff! It’s also the toughest spot to be in. This was the place that most people dropped out. Why?

You could say that people just didn’t like actually being hit, and that could be part of it, but I think it’s because that’s when the process got frustrating. You could see the openings, but you couldn’t get there fast enough. You could feel your guard hand dropping, but you couldn’t make it stay up! You could even sense when you were leaving yourself open, but weren’t quick enough to cover the space. I remember closing my eyes for punches before they hit because I could see them coming but wasn’t fast enough to do anything about it. It’s the conscious incompetence phase at it’s most brutal. To make matters worse, other people at your level hadn’t learned control yet, so you were often getting hit harder than you needed to. I went home to soak my bruises many nights thinking, “If this is how bad this is now, how is it going to be when I’m getting hit by upper belts?”

It’s better. Upper belts have control and know how hard they should be hitting you. They can tag you in an open spot without obliterating you with all their power. It’s much easier to learn that way. Although still very frustrating. With your own belt level, at least you catch their openings sometimes.

But I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t realize that it would get easier if I just pushed through this part. I thought it would only get harder. But I wanted to do it, so I did it anyway, and I was able to tell those climbing the mountain behind me that it was easier near the top.

I think a lot of things are like this. Whether you’re creating a newsletter, writing a book, learning to fight, or mastering Shakespeare.

Be easy on yourself if your in that middle zone. Yes, you can see your mistakes much more clearly, and sometimes you still make them, but if this is something you really want, keep going. Eventually avoiding those errors will be second nature. Know that the very fact that you recognize them so clearly now is progress from where you where. And you will make progress still! You just need to persevere.