This is an essay on learning how to unicycle. It’s more philosophy than how-to guide, so be forewarned/get excited.
(i) A Thousand Falls
The simplest advice I can give to learn how to ride a unicycle is this: fall off a unicycle a thousand times.
Of course, there’s a bit more technique to it, but this is the gist. Fall off, get on, try again. Repeat ten-hundred times.
I, like most people I know, learned how to ride a bike at a very young age. And although I don’t remember the specifics, I’d imagine I fell off hundreds of times before I got it quite right. That’s quite a few skinned knees. Yet I have zero recollection of it.
But that’s the nature of kids, isn’t it? They dive in with confidence and just keep trying. Setbacks fade fast.
I think we forget that as we grow older. No longer do we forget failure with such alacrity. We’re a little less bold in how we approach our endeavors. But I accidentally found a blast from that past, and it has one wheel and a seat. Never since childhood have I failed so frequently at something and kept going.
And never has it felt so great to finally learn! Finally being able to balance is great, but even the process leading up to it is exciting. Your progress isn’t linear, so the entire process is you improving slowly, but also in leaps in bounds. You’ll spend a few hours of unicycling time going just inches before bailing. Then you’ll upgrade to feet. Later, you’ll clear ten feet. And a few days after that, a hundred. And then you’ve got it. At some point, you just stop falling off. Crap, it feels wonderful.
(ii) Blue-Collar Failures
One thing that stuck out to me about falling off a unicycle was that it was a pretty objective measure of failure.
And we don’t have that a lot. Or at least, I don’t.
In a lot of projects I work on, motivated waxes and wanes; excitement fades away, and perfectly good ideas are never brought to glorious execution. It’s easy to rationalize these abandoned dreams. Failure becomes less tangible. It looks less like defeat and more like procrastination. It’s not a knock-out blow to the head; it’s a dull sense of regret and a light flurry of rationalized excuses. Read More
I’ve read about, watched, and practiced public speaking. I’ve been through seemingly endless hours of personal coaching in it. And while I don’t guarantee you will never see these tips anywhere else, I want to offer here a breath of fresh air from the absolute inanity of tips like “rehearse in front of a mirror” and “practice, practice, practice” that adorn the first page of Google results for “public speaking tips”.
1. Get on stage early
I’ve never once heard this tip, but it’s the single best way I know of to deal with pre-speech nervousness. Spend as much time as possible in front of my audience before the speech starts. That’s all.
Are you speaking in a class? Get up there as soon as the teacher starts jotting down her final notes on the last speaker. Maybe you’re in a row of presentations at work? Stand up and get your PowerPoint plugged in and ready to go as soon as you can. If you can walk around the stage a bit, do that. You’re getting to know the territory. When you’re giving your speech in another minute and a half, it’ll feel just a bit more like your home turf. Read More
This is my first profiles in awesomeness post, and I think an appropriate subject is John Goddard. Here’s why.
When John Goddard was 15, a friend of his dad’s told him he regretted not doing all the things he wanted to when he was John’s age. John, struck by the comment, got out a yellow legal pad and scribbled out 127 things he wanted to do before he died.
He was a pretty ambitious 15-year old. Heavy hitting items include:
- Circumnavigate the globe
- Climb Cheop’s pyramid
- Climb Kilimanjaro, Rainier, the Matterhorn, and Everest
- Milk a poisonous snake
- Hold breath underwater for 2.5 minutes
- Explore the Amazon, Congo, and Nile rivers from source to mouth
Etc, etc, for 127 items.
Now here’s the ridiculous thing. While most 15-year old boys could have compiled a similar list, most of us wouldn’t dedicate the rest of our lives to achieving every single one of them. Read More
If you ever undertake some project, goal, or quest that requires a serious commitment of time, there will undoubtedly be some point during your journey where you will pause to reflect and find that you’d rather do anything that what you’re doing. “Pluck my eyes out. If I can’t see, I don’t have to finish writing my novel.”
Good for you. That means you’re doing something worthwhile. The only reason you made this much progress is because you knew it would pay off in the end. It’s awfully inconvenient now– heck, you’d rather be blind– but keep dreaming about the finish line, because if you got you into this mess, it can get you out.
And that’s what I want to talk about now– why you got into this mess.
You did it because you thought it would be worthwhile. Not easy, but worthwhile. And now that it’s living up to your expectations, you’re taking some time to reflect. And potentially gauge your eyes out.
Here’s something I think. I think it with all of my heart:
Never, ever evaluate Read More