I was texting today with a friend of mine who is going for something big. It’s one of those crazy “bucket list, super elite, few people have walked in these shoes” type goals. And he’s waiting for the kingmaker in charge to give him a chance to show his mettle, to prove that he is worthy, to make the team.
But he’s not getting answers. Or, at least not as fast as he’d like. He’s in the dark, his dream hanging in the balance, and it sucks.
I teased him that he is officially every woman being strung along by every man. Ever.
“He’s your fuckboy.” I said.
And his reaction? “You’re not wrong about that, but at least I’m not blinded by the feels.”
Ryan Gosling
I would argue — and I did — that he is most definitely blinded by the feels. Not feels for a man who won’t text back — though, while we’re on the subject, come on, men, do better — but feels about this dream and his long-held attachment to it.
He most certainly has the feels about the work he’s put in to get to this point, and the sacrifices he has made along the way. He most certainly has the feels about his dream of getting to the next level. And he most certainly has the feels about the space of uncertainty in which he currently finds himself.
But I don’t think that those feels are bad feels.
In fact, I think it’s the opposite. You can’t compete at the highest levels of anything without getting to know these feels. And I would argue that the ability to experience, recognize, and stay inside of these feels is what separates the average from the elite. And I would argue that each of us can learn something from this.
Those feelings help bring your goals to fruition.
We have mis-categorized the emotions that surround these moments. We’re told to buck up, to man up, to have some balls. We’re told to be tough or stoic or hard.
But I think it’s the opposite. I’ve never gotten better at anything by being impervious to the challenge. I’ve only gotten better by going into the deep and and learning to fucking swim.
No one does things perfectly the first time, or the fifth time, or maybe even the 10oth time. And, no, I’m not going to tell you that it takes 10,000 hours to master something. (My friend Carey Lohrenz likes to point out that no fighter pilot ever in the history of aviation had 10,000 hours before having to land a $60B F-14 on the deck of an aircraft carrier in rolling seas in the open ocean.) But, what it takes is this: the ability to stay in the discomfort long enough to figure some things out.
There are studies that show that people who carry good luck charms do better than people who don’t. Is it the talisman that helps? Doubtful. I mean, I certainly has some weird combination of Eastern European Jew Witch Blood, but even I know bullshit when I see it.
If it’s not the talisman, then what? It’s the belief in the talisman.
People who carry good luck charms are more likely to be success simply because they believe that success is a likely outcome… because of that talisman. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. They think they are more likely to be successful so they stick with the hard work longer, they put in the time, they get comfortable being uncomfortable.
Many yeas ago, I ran my first marathon. I had no idea if it was even possible, but I had just done a 10k and I thought, “Why not try?” I got to the training meeting and the coach came up to me and I blurted out, “I don’t have any idea if I can do this,” to which he calmly, cooly, in that perfectly coachly way said, “Yes you can do this, I believe in you, and I will help.”
And as if I was in a trance, I replied, “I can do this, you believe in me, and you will help.” I can tell you two things. First, I finished that marathon. Second, I never doubted that I could, even in the difficult and injury-nagging training runs that seemed like they would never end.
He was my talisman. He allowed me to believe it. And I went from having never run more than six miles to running a marathon simply because I let myself wade into the discomfort and slosh around in it long enough to actually get better.
What’s standing in between you and the dream dangling out in the possibility before you is that space, the uncomfortable deep end, and the longer you are willing to stay in it and to get comfortable being uncomfortable — to put in the work — the better you’ll get at being ready for it when opportunity finally does text back.
(Author note: No actual fuckboys were harmed in the writing of this post. But, ladies, really, delete that loser from your phone. He doesn’t deserve you.)
