I excel at many things. I am a singer and an actor of moderate
success. I can stand in front of an audience and be perfectly at ease. I
communicate well - on paper, in person, over the phone. I get along with most people.
My job involves taking care of other people's needs, which I do well
and I genuinely enjoy.
Over the years I have cultivated this reputation. I am good at
everything I do. When I take on a challenge, I rise to it and do it well. This
is who I am, or at least how I see myself. I hope this is also how I am seen by
others, and I have taken pride in that fact. People see me as someone with
proficiencies, someone who knows what he's doing.
But I have a secret that I've shared with only a few. There is a
way to be seen as being good at everything you do.
You simply don't do things that you aren't good at.
That's it. Early in life we learn what we're not good at. In fact,
I'd venture to say that we learn what we're not good at well before
we stumble onto those activities wherein we excel. As our self-awareness
develops, we compile our mental list - not of our strengths, but of our
weaknesses; not of our successes, but of our failures. We try art and fall short,
so it goes on a shelf. We can't keep up in sports, so sports go in a box.
We have a bad experience giving an oral book report in the third grade,
and public speaking becomes a nemesis. It is a process of elimination that
brings us to our niche in life.
Now, if you were paying attention you probably spotted the flaw
in the system. That book report happened in the third grade. At nine years of
age we decide that we cannot speak in public, or compete in sports, or perform
on stage. These things bring anxiety to our adolescent hearts and even at that
age we recognize and try to avoid that discomfort. We find a place without that
anxiety. This place is the genesis of the comfort zone.
This elementary school comfort zone becomes a launching pad for
the trajectory of our lives; a trajectory based less on our strengths than on
avoiding an anxiety remembered from childhood. In our youth we choose and train
for a career, and as young adults we arrange our lives - complete with hobbies,
interests, avocations and passions - all based the comfort zone. We like to
succeed, and so we avoid those activities wherein we have perceived ourselves
failing in the past. In doing so we bypass an astonishing range of potential
experiences. By middle age (and I really hate using that term) we look around
and discover just how little we know of life.
And so I find myself in a safe, comfortable rut. It's not bad and
it's not unpleasant. For the most part, it's not unfulfilling. I have just
enough experience to realize that it could be more, if I just step out of my
comfort zone.
success. I can stand in front of an audience and be perfectly at ease. I
communicate well - on paper, in person, over the phone. I get along with most people.
My job involves taking care of other people's needs, which I do well
and I genuinely enjoy.
Over the years I have cultivated this reputation. I am good at
everything I do. When I take on a challenge, I rise to it and do it well. This
is who I am, or at least how I see myself. I hope this is also how I am seen by
others, and I have taken pride in that fact. People see me as someone with
proficiencies, someone who knows what he's doing.
But I have a secret that I've shared with only a few. There is a
way to be seen as being good at everything you do.
You simply don't do things that you aren't good at.
That's it. Early in life we learn what we're not good at. In fact,
I'd venture to say that we learn what we're not good at well before
we stumble onto those activities wherein we excel. As our self-awareness
develops, we compile our mental list - not of our strengths, but of our
weaknesses; not of our successes, but of our failures. We try art and fall short,
so it goes on a shelf. We can't keep up in sports, so sports go in a box.
We have a bad experience giving an oral book report in the third grade,
and public speaking becomes a nemesis. It is a process of elimination that
brings us to our niche in life.
Now, if you were paying attention you probably spotted the flaw
in the system. That book report happened in the third grade. At nine years of
age we decide that we cannot speak in public, or compete in sports, or perform
on stage. These things bring anxiety to our adolescent hearts and even at that
age we recognize and try to avoid that discomfort. We find a place without that
anxiety. This place is the genesis of the comfort zone.
This elementary school comfort zone becomes a launching pad for
the trajectory of our lives; a trajectory based less on our strengths than on
avoiding an anxiety remembered from childhood. In our youth we choose and train
for a career, and as young adults we arrange our lives - complete with hobbies,
interests, avocations and passions - all based the comfort zone. We like to
succeed, and so we avoid those activities wherein we have perceived ourselves
failing in the past. In doing so we bypass an astonishing range of potential
experiences. By middle age (and I really hate using that term) we look around
and discover just how little we know of life.
And so I find myself in a safe, comfortable rut. It's not bad and
it's not unpleasant. For the most part, it's not unfulfilling. I have just
enough experience to realize that it could be more, if I just step out of my
comfort zone.