Recently I re-read George Leonard’s sublime “Mastery”, and it made me re-consider what I really spend my time on. Do I spend enough time on design? What is ‘enough’? What are my goals anyway? What does it gain me to get ‘better’ at something (in a simple measurable way) if it’s the wrong thing?
George Leonard’s book (not to be confused with another wonderful book of the same name by Robert Greene), takes his experiences learning and mastering Aikido, and applies them to all of life’s endeavours. He describes the various patterns of failure (losing interest as soon as a particular hobby gets too challenging, etc) and explains the mentality that leads to multiple decades of practice–true mastery.
The more I think about the things I spend a lot of time doing (those activities in which I might hope to be a master one day), a familiar pattern arises: that of ego destruction. I promise not to dwell on the whole Fight Club thing too much, but if you attempt to do anything interesting, creative, or great, and do it in front of a large enough audience, eventually your ego is going to take a hit. Your going to hear criticism. You’re going to work hard on something and there’s going to be someone who thinks it’s garbage.
It’s at this point that your attitude is so crucial. Receiving criticism is often thought of as the best way to know how to improve. This mostly comes from Business 101: the world is full of hungry customers demanding tofu burgers, and we’re selling Big Macs. If enough customers complain, we’ll make Tofu Burgers, and then they’ll be happy and we’ll be rich! It’s the Free Market. The invisible (chubby greasy) hand at its finest.
But that, I think its a pathetic interpretation of criticism, and we’ve managed to miss the point entirely.
The problem with criticism is not that we’ve done the wrong thing, but that we’re too attached to an image of perfection. Can’t you see how the former stance would have us chasing perfection forever? It sounds like a great way to run a business –listen to the customer, constantly search for ways to do better, strive for 100% marketshare– but a godawful way to live a life. As a human, the old business/man metaphor hurts rather than helps. When we are criticized, and we feel pain, embarrassment and shame; the lesson is not to make Tofu Burgers, but to let go of the image of perfection.
How does this lead to mastery? The obsession with the image of perfection is the very thing that keeps you an amateur, and the very thing that keeps you timid. Perhaps you’ve always wanted to be a chef, but were always embarrassed to let the world know. Once in a while you might cook for others and get feedback, but mostly you kept this little dream to yourself. Can’t you see how that ‘safe strategy’ is actually a 500lb anchor around your neck, preventing you from doing great things in the kitchen every day? The ego (as it has been reported endlessly) holds us back in strange and sneaky ways.
In sum, while businesses do well to listen to their customers every whim and whinge, you do not. If you treat everyone with a voicebox as a master whom you must serve, you will never find time to enjoy your hobby, your calling, your art, your career. Another way to think about criticism then, is that it’s great, and reminds us that we are, at this very moment, being hindered by our need to please others, and if we just let go, we’d be so much happier. We must not act defensively (essentially defending the bruised ego).
How then do we improve? Stick to core principles and routines. Write 10 pages a day. Run 5km a day. Make 50 sales calls a day. Whatever it is you wish to master, focus on those measurable goals be your guide. Your routine is your practice, and that is all that counts. In doing this practice your ego will be tested, and when it is, savour in its destruction, don’t try to defend it. This is how you enjoy the daily practice.
If you can build up your skills (in your chosen field, profession), by crushing the ego, you will be able to achieve such levels of mastery that you’ll be able to truly contribute to those around you (in all forms). That might be the greatest reward of all.