Our Invisible Bridge
The Perks of Imperfect Action
It takes some time to get to know ourselves. This comes as something of a surprise, given that we’ve been acquainted with this person all our lives. No matter how many times we gaze lovingly, awkwardly, even frightfully, into the mirror at the face within, there remains something of a stranger staring back at us. What is it that keeps us from knowing this person better? And does this even matter? For, self-awareness is probably as much devil as angel, as often the wolf of mischief as it is the bird of consolation. And though we struggle all our lives to understand ourselves with greater clarity, dedicating untold energy to the wheels of self-analysis and the discipline of inward contemplation, it seems we often find ourselves in no greater position than when we’d first started out.
Knowledge, understanding, and our myriad ideas may be the raw materials of change and the fuel of creativity. But left to themselves, and divorced from the natural harmony they were meant to share with a consistent pattern of decision and action, they become neither a servant nor a confidant, but a space filler and an anchor. The glory in life and love, and in creative and professional endeavors, isn’t found solely within the accumulation of knowledge, but in how and why we use it.
I am definitely not making the claim that one shouldn’t desire self-awareness. Ignorance of oneself, while in youth, is unavoidable and forgivable. In adulthood, it is a stumbling block before everything we hope to build, and every individual we long to know. Still, in perpetual analysis, we can grind ourselves down to a halt. Where at first the intensity of our interior musings appears to afford us a new clarity, applied too liberally, the mechanism of hyper-analysis will make dust of our plans and leave us wondering why the best years of our lives are rolling by with little to show for them.
How we use self-awareness touches every part of our existence, and we aren’t the only ones who will benefit. Of course, we need the experience gained by making the attempt, but others need our help as well. In passivity and circular thinking, we don’t merely limit our own life, but the lives of those around us.
“There is a cognitive and practical half-life to ideas, a brief season of freshness that we shouldn’t waste. ”
There is a natural, or perhaps unnatural, tendency in us to favor the disparate dynamics of polarities - things made of opposite energies. We think, “It’s a season for learning, not so much for moving.” Other times, we tell ourselves, “It’s time to get going.” While there is something to be said for the varied seasons of life and what each one’s overarching theme might be, a more effective way to look at our time is with the understanding that all seasons are worthy of both self-education and actionable choices. All days are fit for the uncovering of new understanding and greater experience alike.
When we put our ideas to work quickly, we have a greater probability of success, much more than ideas and skills that linger, grand notions that sit idling in the ever-growing corridors of our oldest dreams and our best laid plans. There is a kind of cognitive and practical half-life to ideas, a brief season of freshness that we shouldn’t waste.
The difficult thing for many of us is that we know by putting our thoughts out into the material world, we are leaving them open to critique, to the innumerable variables of life, and to the possibility that things will not work out.
“How do I step out into something new, something so unknown?” You ask. Don’t I need to wait until I’ve got more knowledge or experience under my belt?” Of course, there is a time for gaining the requisite information needed to begin. But if we’re even halfway serious about our goal, we can usually shore that up quickly.
Often, the very next thing we ask is, “Will I fail?” Well, probably, at least in part. More accurately, the answer is both yes and no. We will fail at some things and succeed in others, in varied ways, throughout the entire process. In fact, there is a certain necessity for a measure of failure in any endeavor. There are some lessons we can’t learn until we’ve missed the mark a few times. It is only then that we see with enough clarity what needs to be changed.
Often, it is only after we’ve plunged into something completely that we gain the insight needed to reform our approach. We need to experience a level of vulnerability, which is to open ourselves to the risks and rewards of our actions. This openness serves as the testing ground necessary for ideas to either fizzle or thrive in the real world and provides us with the information required to aim with greater accuracy the next time around.
“At some point, we only gain new levels of readiness by forcing the door open and walking the first mile or two. This is known as imperfect action.”
As far as experience is concerned, funnily enough, there’s no way to gain more experience until we choose to take that experience. I realize this sounds both obvious and redundant. But how many of us spin our wheels loading up, so to speak, waiting around for some mysterious voice to tell us that “You are, at last, ready for your journey?” At some point, we only gain new levels of readiness by forcing the door open and walking the first mile or two. This is known as imperfect action. It is the choice to take a step forward armed with good but incomplete information and only limited experience, knowing that, as we move ahead, the knowledge and attributes necessary for growth and success will continue to pour into us as long as we take these steps with purpose.
This imperfect action is our invisible bridge. We look out over the canyon before us and see only an immense divide between us and our vision, and a great height from which we might fall. But, just as Indiana Jones once did in “The Last Crusade,” the moment we step out over the expanse, we find that our feet land on something firm. A touch perilous, perhaps, but solid nonetheless. Unlike what we see in that movie, however, the bridge we cross is not a preexisting structure, merely hidden by camouflage, lighting, and choice angles. It is one we build, board by board, every time we move another inch forward. It takes shape as we gain ground. It expands as we do. And our expansion only comes when we take steps that often appear to have no guaranteed spot for our body to land. It is the very act of our focused and continual movement that lays the foundation of our next stage of life.
Several years ago, when I was still working in wine and spirits distribution, I was presented, unexpectedly, with the opportunity for a considerable promotion. I had wanted it, knew I possessed the drive, passion, and consistency needed. But there was a part of me that hesitated. Usually, individuals in my type of sales division would remain on a certain route for several months, if not one or two years, before moving onto the next phase. I had only been working in that division for about six weeks when the new opportunity arrived. Sure, I was gaining a lot of positive feedback from clients and coworkers alike; but was I ready… already?
My district manager called to inform me of the opportunity late one afternoon. A newer, better, and more lucrative route had opened up. I was, of course, intrigued. But then a sharp pang of fear gripped me. I wondered if this leap might be a bit premature, wondered if I needed more lime to learn and acclimate before taking on this new challenge. I had the will to succeed. But perhaps I needed to stay in that place for a while and build more “experience” before moving up.
Looking back, I see that I wasn’t afraid of new challenges. I’ve always enjoyed having certain things shaken up. What I was afraid of was failure, of dropping the ball and looking stupid or incapable, appearing as though I didn’t know what I was doing and fumbling at the most crucial moment. Thankfully, my boss didn’t give me too long to mull it over. He said, “You’ve got fifteen minutes to decide. You’re the one most suited for this position and you’re the one I want for the job. But if you wait any longer than that, I’m giving it to someone else.”
I hung up the phone and stood in front of the Bainbridge Island grocery store where I’d been for the previous few hours, my hands shaking, not panicking, but full of that strange and disorienting mixture of excitement and fear, nervousness and desire, all mingled together in one cup. “I need more time,” I thought to myself. “I’m going to tell him to offer me the next one when I’ve got another six months of experience.”
Then, thank goodness, it hit me like an anvil, like a cheap-shot cold-cock haymaker across the cheek - “What on earth are you thinking? Are you insane? Do it. Take the risk. You’re crazy for even considering passing this up. Be brave. You know it’ll all work out. And even if it doesn’t, you will at least have given it your all.” Sure, I’m paraphrasing here. It wasn’t precisely these exact words running through my mind. But I felt and thought about each one of these things. And I did finally tell myself out loud,“Do it, Robert; take the chance.”
“The key isn’t to abhor failure but to fail forward, to do so while retaining purpose in your steps and always with a good sense of humor. If you can’t laugh at yourself, especially when you mess up, you’re in worse shape than you think. ”
Over the following two years, I received two more promotions, praise from colleagues, supervisors, and clients alike, became a trainer and mentor for new recruits and earned several awards for my work, including Salesperson of the Year, for my branch and division. I mention this not for pride, only to say that, had I waited, the only thing that would have come into my life was more waiting. I would have missed out on greater income, a wealth of information and a broadened skill set, missed out on getting to know hundreds of industry professionals, all with their own stories that enriched my life. I’d have missed out on growing, not only as a professional, but as a man and a leader.
The answer, my friends, ninety-nine out of a hundred times to the question of “Should I take this risk,” is “Yes.” It is emphatically, “Yes.” Of course, you’re going to fail sometimes. I certainly did. I had terrible weeks, huge conflicts with my buyers, absurdly long days, stress, misunderstandings, and several missed or fumbled opportunities. The key isn’t to abhor failure but to fail forward, to do so while retaining purpose in your steps and always with a good sense of humor. If you can’t laugh at yourself, especially when you mess up, you’re in worse shape than you think.
Still, be honest about it and keep a balanced view of things. When you fail, don’t lie and tell yourself, “It was good.” No, it sucks. It hurts, and it’s sometimes embarrassing. Keep calm, though. Breathe through it. Remind yourself that you have value, that all people, even the greatest minds throughout history, failed countless times. Tell yourself that you have learned something valuable, that you understand what not to do and also how to do it right the next time.
If you can’t figure it out on your own, reach out to those willing to offer you some assistance and a helping of wisdom. You’d be surprised how many good men and women there are around you who are waiting for someone to ask them for help. Sure, there are plenty of self-absorbed jerks in every corner of the world. But there are as many, if not more, good souls ready to lend their unique perspective and considerable experience, experience born from their successes and failures alike, to help you get closer to the version of yourself you presently feel but don’t yet see.
Last, remember that a good life is not the realization of perfection, but one where purpose and meaning are top priorities. Joy is found in continual learning, in perpetual growth, in new experiences, and in greater connection with others. It is found in being grateful for what and who we’ve been given, and for all we’ve overcome when we choose imperfect action over hesitation.
Try each day to take on a new risk. Not an arbitrary one, but something specific that moves the dial ahead just a bit. Make it a calculated risk that brings with it the pain of discomfort, while treating you with the satisfying flavor of something earned, something fought for. My goodness, is it a sweet flavor. No matter the outcome, you will be able to say that you’ve done it, that you’ve walked forward in the face of opposition and fear, and opened a door to a new realm of life. I guarantee, when you and I are old and looking back on these days, we will find peace knowing we chose a life not merely of good ideas but of great action.