Just Do The Thing

Apparently I'm on a doing things kick right now.

When I went to art school — did you know I went to art school? — everyone's projects went on the board for everyone to critique. I can't even remember the feedback I got, just that it was scathing and unrestrained. I was absolutely gutted every time that happened.

But so was everyone else. Everyone got criticized, nobody was faultless. The intention was to help us get used to feedback, to get thick skin about it. (I fear the effect was to bring everyone's style into conformity, but I digress.)

And you know what? Once you do it a few times and get used to being ridiculed in front of your peers, it's not so bad. Watching that first art piece you carefully crafted and then timidly hang on the wall get torn to shreds is heart wrenching. The 20th? That's just a normal Tuesday. Repeating the process regularly lowers the stakes, since you know everything is going to get mocked.

I feel like this applies to so many other things. Working out, dating, socializing, open-source projects. The first time feels special, so if anything goes wrong, it feels like the world is over. But the 50th time is no big deal, since you know life goes on and you'll have another chance later. You just have to get in the habit of doing the thing over and over again, and then sharing that thing so the world (or at very least a group of trusted friends) can see it and appreciate it for what it is.

There a danger I see in turning everything into a numbers game. I'm reminded of when I was a missionary and our leadership used a literal conversion funnel to discuss what steps needed to be taken between meeting someone and having them baptized, noting the attrition percentages at each step. It felt cold and calculated and not at all like the warm, open, long-suffering embrace of Jesus that we were supposed to be emulating.

The problem with mechanizing these interactions until they're no longer scary is they are also no longer special. The jitters are gone, the flutter and frenzy of anxiety is replaced with choreographed overtures that may have good intention but no soul. If you become so good at something that you can do it in your sleep, you'll probably put everyone else to sleep too.

As I write this I think of my marriage of 9 years, which is full of love and support and laughter but is completely devoid of stakes. We've got a pretty good routine now. Seems like this has become a wakeup call to shakeup my relationship, be intentional, and make it exciting again with a bit of spice.

And that's the solution. Be intentional, specifically if you start getting too good, be intentionally bad at the thing. Be risky, take chances, make mistakes. (Where have I heard that before?)

Sometimes it will absolutely bomb. Sometimes you might surprise yourself. Sometimes you might surprise everyone else too. You have no way of knowing until you do the thing and see what happens.

Don't repeat the process; iterate on the process. Don't do the same thing over and over without changing anything. Make adjustments, fine-tune, throw in some randomness, be drastic if you have to.