But genius, no matter how bright, will come to
naught or swiftly burn out if you don't choose the
master's journey. This journey will take you along a
path that is both arduous and exhilarating. It will
bring you unexpected heartaches and unexpected re-
wards, and you will never reach a final destination.
(It would be a paltry skill indeed that could be fi-
nally, completely mastered.) You'll probably end up
learning as much about yourself as about the skill
you're pursuing. And although you'll often be sur-
prised at what and how you learn, your progress to-
wards mastery will almost always take on a
characteristic rhythm that looks something like this:
The Mastery Curve
There's really no way around it. Learning any new
skill involves relatively brief spurts of progress, each
of which is followed by a slight decline to a plateau
somewhat higher in most cases than that which pre-
ceded it. The curve above is necessarily idealized. In
the actual learning experience, progress is less regu-
lar; the upward spurts vary; the plateaus have their
own dips and rises along the way. But the general
progression is almost always the same. To take the
master's journey, you have to practice diligently,
striving to hone your skills, to attain new levels of
competence. But while doing so—and this is the in-
exorable fact of the journey—you also have to be
willing to spend most of your time on a plateau, to
keep practicing even when you seem to be getting
nowhere.
George Leonard - Mastery (pg.14-15)
Read this great book by George Leonard a few years ago. Leonard writes about that lonely road to mastery. I was going through a particularly difficult time when I read this book. Had been frustrated for a few months. After reading this, I learned to "love the plateaus."
No comments:
Post a Comment