Sounds to me like there are some contradictions in here. You can lose and be bad at something at first- but then still excel and be the best. I don’t think losing and being bad necessarily means it’s not your calling. You say you’re glad you were bad/lost at other sports because that led you to lacrosse and jiu jitsu. But you also acknowledged that you weren’t good at jiu jitsu at first either. Because while talent counts, effort counts twice. That’s the argument made by Angela Duckworth in Grit, a book I’ve been reading recently. You can also be good at something, but then not stick with it and not feel its your calling- and ‘get bored’ as you eventually did with running and lacrosse. I don’t think it’s the rules themselves that make someone excel and stick with something, although they can help foster motivation.
In Grit, the author suggests that you won’t go very far in anything without four things:
- Interest – intrinsically enjoying what you do.
- Practice – daily discipline of trying to do things better than we did yesterday.
- Purpose – the conviction that what you do matters.
- Hope – motivates a rising-to-the-occasion kind of perseverance.
So this makes me wonder – you have a strong interest in jiu jitsu; that’s evident. You’ve put in a lot of practice. But do you also feel like doing jiu jitsu has a compelling purpose for you? Like it could really make a difference in terms of your strength? Courage? Discipline? Make you a better person? Part of a bigger community? And do you have faith that you’ll be able to keep progressing? An aspiration to reach that black belt level and hope that you’ll get there? I think that’s what will determine how long you stick with it, how great you become at it.
I ask because reflecting on my own experience with martial arts, I definitely stuck with it so long because it did the above four things for me. I committed to going four days/week (or more importantly, my parents committed to driving me four times a week), it held a higher purpose in that I truly felt my self-confidence growing through learning self-defense and I wanted to get really good so I would never feel threatened when by myself and could travel alone and do things that I might otherwise be afraid to do. I think the different levels (rules in a way) of martial arts are great motivators – especially when there are so many different levels in taekwondo you can advance towards. And it was once I reached black belt that my purpose/hope started to diminish. In that I’d reached my purpose, and I’d conquered all the levels that had been motivating me to excel. So once I got my second degree black belt, it felt like overkill and like I’d learned what I could, had invested enough time (10 years) and I was ready to master a new skill. So in that way, the rules of the sport in terms of progression did motivate me – but it was only one of many other factors that made me excel. Many others quit after their first few months because they’re either not doing it for a higher purpose, don’t have hope that they’ll reach the highest levels, or simply don’t want to put in the practice.
So I think looking at play/games from a rules perspective offers some interesting insights, but that the reasons for why we grow/win or not are much more intrinsic. I think this applies to life too. We know we’re doing well in life when we feel a deep sense of interest/passion, purpose and hope in whatever it is we’re engaged with. And if we don’t feel that, then we’re probably not engaging with the right things and need to keep searching.
Another interesting practice I took away from Grit was this one. She suggests the following process for making the most of the time that is given to us:
1. Write down a list of 25 goals you have (including all the projects you’re currently working on)
2. Do some soul-searching and circle the five highest priority goals
3. Take a hard look at the 20 goals you didn’t circle. These you avoid because they’re what distract you and eat away at your time and energy, taking away from the goals that matter.
4. Ask yourself, to what extent do these goals serve a common purpose? Identifying that common purpose can help identify your true passion.
I think the key differentiator for sports I feel "good at" are those where I approach the win state more often, more quickly, and in more complex ways. I didn't explain that well enough in my essay, so thanks for pointing that out.
I spent 9 years playing baseball and I always sucked at it. I never got better, at least relative to my peers. Everyone was always growing in their skills, but others accelerated much faster than me. I played football for 2 years, basketball for 4, soccer for 4. Always trash.
When I started running, I made the varsity after one year. I was one of the top 7 runners at our school as a sophomore. That was really cool. Same thing with lacrosse-- varsity after only one year. That's incredible.
With BJJ, I got thrashed a lot at first, but I was also competing against people that had 5, 6, 7 years of experience over me. That was expected. But even then, there were hints of approaching success. And then it kept going from there. And I didn't just reach success early, but I keep finding new avenues of success over time (new submissions, new combos, new counters, etc.), whereas with running and lacrosse, it felt sort of more like just endlessly trying to improve at the core skills-- run faster, run longer, catch better, throw more accurately. It was less complex.
My argument was less that the rules "make someone excel and stick with something," but rather that without rules, it's impossible to even know if someone is excelling or not. Therefore unstructured play is difficult to have the motivation/discipline to stick with for 10+ years. It doesn't even really make much sense to consider that.
And I like the arguments made in Grit, although I feel even more strongly about those made in Range by David Epstein, perhaps I'm biased though. His point is that it's more important to find the thing that you truly have talent in. He says that Grit is largely based on a single study of West Point cadets, and after further research, they found that even though having higher grit led to a higher graduation rates, it also led to more of those cadets leaving the military within a few years. So ultimately, it caused them to be overly focused on completing something that was not their true passion, and it may have been better for those cadets to quit sooner.
Instead, I like the explore/exploit approach of James Clear: explore a lot until you find something you are good at, then exploit it as much as possible (ie invest in it).
I think effort is definitely important, but it is irrelevant without talent, at least if you want to excel and be one of the best. You can surely do something just for fun-- as I shared previously in "Emotional Infection," I play the guitar even though I am terrible at it, but that's so that I can express myself. I'm not trying to be the best.
In my case, once I found the things I had talent in, the four elements of grit came much more automatically. But I totally agree with you: those elements are much more important in the long run than just talent, or aptitude.
My motivation for BJJ is definitely a strong purpose: like you, I want to be able to defend myself and those I love. I also want to compete in martial arts and see if I truly have what it takes (as I wrote about in "Complete Human"). I also like how humbling it is, and the massive amount of mutual respect within the community. It is definitely a family, and we help each other work on our flaws, often suffering together as we do so.
What's also cool about BJJ is that because of the competitive aspect, it is an infinite game. Even once I become a black belt, it won't be about just knowing all the moves, but about perfectly applying them in a match, and inventing new ones, and so on. So I can keep playing as long as I'm able.
So I think that Rules and talent are necessary for long-term success and commitment, but not sufficient. You also need all the other things you pointed out from Grit.
Thanks for illuminating the weak parts of my argument, and for helping me realize the element about Purpose that I was missing.
Sounds to me like there are some contradictions in here. You can lose and be bad at something at first- but then still excel and be the best. I don’t think losing and being bad necessarily means it’s not your calling. You say you’re glad you were bad/lost at other sports because that led you to lacrosse and jiu jitsu. But you also acknowledged that you weren’t good at jiu jitsu at first either. Because while talent counts, effort counts twice. That’s the argument made by Angela Duckworth in Grit, a book I’ve been reading recently. You can also be good at something, but then not stick with it and not feel its your calling- and ‘get bored’ as you eventually did with running and lacrosse. I don’t think it’s the rules themselves that make someone excel and stick with something, although they can help foster motivation.
In Grit, the author suggests that you won’t go very far in anything without four things:
- Interest – intrinsically enjoying what you do.
- Practice – daily discipline of trying to do things better than we did yesterday.
- Purpose – the conviction that what you do matters.
- Hope – motivates a rising-to-the-occasion kind of perseverance.
So this makes me wonder – you have a strong interest in jiu jitsu; that’s evident. You’ve put in a lot of practice. But do you also feel like doing jiu jitsu has a compelling purpose for you? Like it could really make a difference in terms of your strength? Courage? Discipline? Make you a better person? Part of a bigger community? And do you have faith that you’ll be able to keep progressing? An aspiration to reach that black belt level and hope that you’ll get there? I think that’s what will determine how long you stick with it, how great you become at it.
I ask because reflecting on my own experience with martial arts, I definitely stuck with it so long because it did the above four things for me. I committed to going four days/week (or more importantly, my parents committed to driving me four times a week), it held a higher purpose in that I truly felt my self-confidence growing through learning self-defense and I wanted to get really good so I would never feel threatened when by myself and could travel alone and do things that I might otherwise be afraid to do. I think the different levels (rules in a way) of martial arts are great motivators – especially when there are so many different levels in taekwondo you can advance towards. And it was once I reached black belt that my purpose/hope started to diminish. In that I’d reached my purpose, and I’d conquered all the levels that had been motivating me to excel. So once I got my second degree black belt, it felt like overkill and like I’d learned what I could, had invested enough time (10 years) and I was ready to master a new skill. So in that way, the rules of the sport in terms of progression did motivate me – but it was only one of many other factors that made me excel. Many others quit after their first few months because they’re either not doing it for a higher purpose, don’t have hope that they’ll reach the highest levels, or simply don’t want to put in the practice.
So I think looking at play/games from a rules perspective offers some interesting insights, but that the reasons for why we grow/win or not are much more intrinsic. I think this applies to life too. We know we’re doing well in life when we feel a deep sense of interest/passion, purpose and hope in whatever it is we’re engaged with. And if we don’t feel that, then we’re probably not engaging with the right things and need to keep searching.
Another interesting practice I took away from Grit was this one. She suggests the following process for making the most of the time that is given to us:
1. Write down a list of 25 goals you have (including all the projects you’re currently working on)
2. Do some soul-searching and circle the five highest priority goals
3. Take a hard look at the 20 goals you didn’t circle. These you avoid because they’re what distract you and eat away at your time and energy, taking away from the goals that matter.
4. Ask yourself, to what extent do these goals serve a common purpose? Identifying that common purpose can help identify your true passion.
Shall we do this exercise and then discuss? :)
Thank you SO much for your comment!
I think the key differentiator for sports I feel "good at" are those where I approach the win state more often, more quickly, and in more complex ways. I didn't explain that well enough in my essay, so thanks for pointing that out.
I spent 9 years playing baseball and I always sucked at it. I never got better, at least relative to my peers. Everyone was always growing in their skills, but others accelerated much faster than me. I played football for 2 years, basketball for 4, soccer for 4. Always trash.
When I started running, I made the varsity after one year. I was one of the top 7 runners at our school as a sophomore. That was really cool. Same thing with lacrosse-- varsity after only one year. That's incredible.
With BJJ, I got thrashed a lot at first, but I was also competing against people that had 5, 6, 7 years of experience over me. That was expected. But even then, there were hints of approaching success. And then it kept going from there. And I didn't just reach success early, but I keep finding new avenues of success over time (new submissions, new combos, new counters, etc.), whereas with running and lacrosse, it felt sort of more like just endlessly trying to improve at the core skills-- run faster, run longer, catch better, throw more accurately. It was less complex.
My argument was less that the rules "make someone excel and stick with something," but rather that without rules, it's impossible to even know if someone is excelling or not. Therefore unstructured play is difficult to have the motivation/discipline to stick with for 10+ years. It doesn't even really make much sense to consider that.
And I like the arguments made in Grit, although I feel even more strongly about those made in Range by David Epstein, perhaps I'm biased though. His point is that it's more important to find the thing that you truly have talent in. He says that Grit is largely based on a single study of West Point cadets, and after further research, they found that even though having higher grit led to a higher graduation rates, it also led to more of those cadets leaving the military within a few years. So ultimately, it caused them to be overly focused on completing something that was not their true passion, and it may have been better for those cadets to quit sooner.
Instead, I like the explore/exploit approach of James Clear: explore a lot until you find something you are good at, then exploit it as much as possible (ie invest in it).
I think effort is definitely important, but it is irrelevant without talent, at least if you want to excel and be one of the best. You can surely do something just for fun-- as I shared previously in "Emotional Infection," I play the guitar even though I am terrible at it, but that's so that I can express myself. I'm not trying to be the best.
In my case, once I found the things I had talent in, the four elements of grit came much more automatically. But I totally agree with you: those elements are much more important in the long run than just talent, or aptitude.
My motivation for BJJ is definitely a strong purpose: like you, I want to be able to defend myself and those I love. I also want to compete in martial arts and see if I truly have what it takes (as I wrote about in "Complete Human"). I also like how humbling it is, and the massive amount of mutual respect within the community. It is definitely a family, and we help each other work on our flaws, often suffering together as we do so.
What's also cool about BJJ is that because of the competitive aspect, it is an infinite game. Even once I become a black belt, it won't be about just knowing all the moves, but about perfectly applying them in a match, and inventing new ones, and so on. So I can keep playing as long as I'm able.
So I think that Rules and talent are necessary for long-term success and commitment, but not sufficient. You also need all the other things you pointed out from Grit.
Thanks for illuminating the weak parts of my argument, and for helping me realize the element about Purpose that I was missing.