Being well-rounded is square
Her next endeavor: bobbin lace making. Image by Margarita Morales Esparza from Pixabay
“Take what you love and let it kill you.”
Starting a new hobby or learning a new skill can bring on a sort of infatuation phase: You think about it all the time, even when you’re supposed to be doing other things. When you can’t actually be engaging in your new pastime, you’re watching YouTube videos or listening to podcasts about it. You can’t get enough.
And you may start to feel a little self-conscious about it. If you have big goals, however, ignore that feeling and do your thing.
Even though the people around you will think you have lost your mind, go as deep as you want. That’s what passion looks like — and passion is what facilitates the kind of immersive attention and practice that leads to success in a compressed period of time.
The honeymoon won’t last forever. You’ll eventually get into a routine. You’ll hit some challenges that will slow you down, you’ll reach a milestone that marks a satisfying place to take a breather, or you’ll get hungry enough to start thinking about tacos. But during the magical time period when it’s just you and the object of your passion, don’t question it. While you’re in it, go all in.
I have been fortunate enough to experience this intense devotion to an avocation a number of times. I definitely spent more than my fair share of time playing Super Mario Bros. 3, but mostly my passions have been things that have paid off beyond the enjoyment of the time spent doing them. At various times, I’ve been deeply, deeply engaged in things like reading, writing, exploring nature, playing music, songwriting, running, knitting, traveling, teaching, and entrepreneurship.
My professional and personal life would be utterly stale if I had tried to stay “balanced” at key moments along the way. To be “balanced” would be to spend one hour instead of four, one year instead of twelve. But you can’t go swimming if you only want to get your feet wet.
A good friend of mine is a serial hobbyist who knows no moderation. She becomes obsessively attached to one activity until she becomes an expert, then frees herself from its grip to pursue the next one. She became Internet famous for nail art, but she’s also a trained yoga instructor, a gardener, and marathoner who crocheted or cross-stitched every Christmas present she gave last year. When people are amazed at her skill, she shrugs and points out that it is the result of many hours of practice — hours that most people are not willing to put in.
Back in the eighties and nineties, well-roundedness was the surest recipe for getting into a good college. But those times have changed. Now, the best bet for prospective students is to become exceptional in a particular area — preferably, one that few other high school seniors are exploring. Eventually, this will be just another tactic to be exploited, but it’s a much harder one to fake. Because at the very moment when most people say, “That was cool, but I’m done for now,” or “This is getting difficult,” someone like my crocheting nail artist friend is just getting started.
To become extraordinarily skilled at something requires risk. It could be an obvious physical or legal risk, like my photojournalist friend who, as a teenager practicing his craft, made a habit of sneaking into abandoned buildings and onto off-limits rooftops, or the young gymnast I know who nursed many sprained ankles and wrists in pursuit of state and regional titles.
But there is also the risk of investing in one thing over another, pursuing something boldly that may not pay off. The opportunity cost is high when you put all of your eggs in one basket. It may not be worth it to you. Or, it may be worth it to your child in a way that makes you uncomfortable.
There are no guarantees. Just because you’re really into something doesn’t mean that it will pay off in any way beyond the direct benefit of the activity itself. The more effort it took to get there, the more valuable the skill — but that doesn’t always translate to material success.
There isn’t a right or wrong answer. We all get to make our choices. I tend to side with Derek Sivers on this one. If you’re staring over the precipice wondering if you should fall for a certain passion, I’ll tell you to go for it. The joy of doing something you love outweighs the risk, in my book. If you have the opportunity to experience the “I can’t wait to wake up in the morning and get back to this,” feeling, don’t play it cool. Don’t be well-rounded. Be spiky, I say.
Questions to think about: Where have you over-invested in certain skills? Where have you been hesitant about doing so? Have you felt the kind of passion I’m talking about? And if you had all the time in the world, how would it change your choices about how you spend it?