It's Like Riding a Bike

"It's like riding a bike." I use that phrase all the time. It's one of the most tried and true principles of human behavior. I've been saying this phrase for years, but it took on a new life a few years ago when my boys were learning to ride a bike. There was lots of anger, tears, blood, and frustration. Then, like the flip of a switch, they knew how to ride a bike.....and the rest is history.

Our church has a tradition of rallying all the volunteers for a team huddle 30 minutes before the first service. There, someone shares a few announcements and a short message/story, then closes in prayer. It's a great way to start the day. I had the privilege of doing yesterday's message. To my surprise, several people approached me afterward to compliment me on it (including our head pastor, whom I deeply admire). I've given this mini-message lots of times, but don't usually get that much feedback.

Here's the kicker: I was asked to do the message about 90 seconds before the huddle started. The person who was supposed to do it couldn't, so the leader asked me to step in. I was happy to do it and exhilarated with the idea of creating a message in under two minutes. It was one of the highlights of my day.

That's not naturally who I am, though. 10 years ago, the mere idea of talking in front of 50 people, in any capacity, would have made me vomit. Five years ago, I could have done it, though I would have done so with a fair amount of anxiety and would have needed a few days to prepare myself. Two years ago, I could have done it with an hour's notice. Today, I can figure it out in less than 90 seconds and go into it excitedly. It's like riding a bike. Truly. Repetition matters. Repetition of speaking in front of an audience and repetition of creating. When I write seven blogs and record two podcasts every week, finding ideas and bringing them to life becomes second nature. At first, it was tough, but now it's just what I do. It's like brushing my teeth in the morning. Or getting dressed. Or maybe, just maybe, it's like riding a bike.

I believe in this principle so much, and it applies to many areas of our life. I see it with my clients all the time. I ask them to do things well outside their comfort zone and expertise. At first, it's difficult. Then, after more repetition, something clicks, and it becomes second nature. It's like riding a bike! Whether it's budgeting, investing, communicating with your spouse, building a new skill, creating that new business, or putting your ideas into the world, you're just a handful of repetitions away from an entirely new reality. A reality where you confidently step into the areas that are important to you. It's like riding a bike.

First, We Fail

Yesterday, before I was about to mow the yard, Finn asked if he could help me. He's been obsessed with "mowin' men" since he could talk, so operating a push mower is right up there with ice cream and swimming pools for that kid. At first, I did the turns and let him single-handedly run with the straightaways. Then, about halfway through, he asked if he could do the turns by himself. I assisted him on the first few, but after a while, he got into a rhythm and did them himself.

The yard looks like absolute garbage. The lines are terrible, we missed spots, and he damaged a plant while trying to make one of his turns. But it was a huge win and I'm proud of him. In that moment, I had two options. First, I could have said no to him and insisted I run the show (in an effort to have a better finished product). Second, I could let him learn. I'm always a believer in the second option. While I'd prefer a yard that doesn't look like trash, today's lesson was so valuable.

Regardless of who we are or what we're trying to learn, first, we fail. Failure is the prerequisite to doing it poorly. Doing it poorly is the prerequisite to doing it average. Doing it average is the prerequisite to doing it good. Doing it good is the prerequisite to doing it great. But first, we fail.

The key word is "first." If we don't allow for a first, for the possibility of failure, how do we expect to become great? It reminds me of something I refer to as the experience paradox. Perhaps there's a technical name for it, but this is what I call it in my head. A college student applies for an entry-level job. They don't get hired because they don't have any experience. But they can't get experience until they get an entry-level job. But they can't get the entry-level job because they don't have the experience. See the paradox?

I'm really proud of Finn. The last time we mowed, he simply couldn't do it. Total fail! Today, he did a poor job. Good for him! His innocence and naivety allow him the freedom to simply be bad at something.....then become less bad. When this happens, it enables him to get better through repetition and failure.

This is a beautiful trait in young kids. It's also a beautiful trait in grown adults, though it's far less common. It's not comfortable to do things we know we'll do poorly. Applying for that job. Starting that business. Creating that content. Launching that product. Asking that person out. Asking for that promotion. When we don't have experience, we may fail. But remember, it's all part of becoming great. Becoming less bad is the onramp to the road of excellence.

I hope you do something poorly today!

You Don't Know Until You Know

Several years ago, I was listening to an Adam Carolla podcast when a caller asked an interesting question. This was shortly after Adam had released his second documentary film. To paraphrase, the caller asked, "How did you know how to make a documentary?" Adam's response was simple, but profound. "I didn't know how to make a documentary until I made a documentary. Then I knew how to make a documentary."

In other words, we don't know how to do something until we do it. There's rarely a playbook for us to reference. Instead, we must simply act. One foot in front of the other, step by step. We don't know what we don't know.....until we know it.

I bring up this topic today because of our big announcement last night. After several months of development, we're introducing our first canned beverage at Northern Vessel. It's a variation of our signature Oat Milk Cold Brew Latte. This has been one of TJ's visions for many years now, and it's surreal to see it materialize in front of our eyes.

Truth is, none of us know how to make a canned beverage. TJ knows how to make an amazing cold brew latte in the shop (which he's perfected over the last 4+ years), but creating a canned version is an entirely different animal. We don't know what we don't know.....until we know. After many meetings with food scientists, flavor chemists, and canning experts, we've finally finished the first iteration of our inaugural product. In the words of Adam Carolla, we didn't know how to make a canned beverage until we made a canned beverage. Now we know how to make a canned beverage.

This is one of my favorite things about TJ. He's as equally fearless as he is humble. He has no idea what he's doing, the humility to know he has no idea what he's doing, and the courage to figure it out. I wish I could can this energy (see what I did there?) and pass it around to all the people I know. It's ok to not know how to do something, but that shouldn't stop us from trying. I had no idea how to make a podcast.....until I had a podcast. I had no idea how to coach people.....until I started coaching people. I had no idea how to start a company.....until I started a company. One foot in front of the other, step by step. First we do it poorly, then we do it average, then we do it good, then we do it great. There are no shortcuts. We don’t know until we know.

Today's challenge: Find something you don't know how to do, then do it.