I learned something new this week:
Ryan is pretty bad at surfing.
Most days around 5pm, we close our computers and head down to the beach. While Ryan typically surfs in the gray dawn of morning, on Tuesday, he decided to bring his board.
Knowing how fond he is of the sport, I was excited to witness him catch a wave.
I mean, he’s surfed in Portugal, Australia, and Peru; he had a business training professional athletes; and he was a YES to Sayulita FOR surfing!
He must be good, right?!
After picking out an empty spot on the sand, I unfolded my chair, sat down, and scanned the horizon for his familiar frame.
Blue and white board; navy swim shorts—that’s him!
He was bobbing way out in the ocean, waiting for a wave.
When one approached, I watched as his tiny figure paddled, paddled, paddled and then…. wham! In a matter of seconds, he was engulfed by a spray of surf and his board shot forward as the wave pulled him under.
“Huh, that must have been a fluke,” I thought.
Again, he paddled far out into the ocean to wait.
Soon enough, another wave approached and I watched as his arms paddled rapidly, his body popped up, and then… wobbled, lost balance, and fell backwards into the break.
“Whatttt?! I don’t get it,” I exclaimed.
As Ryan continued to wrestle the waves, I turned my attention to a group of newbies who were surfing closer to the shore.
From small kids to grown adults, they were banking win after win on their boards!
How were they doing so well and Ryan was failing miserably?
When he managed to ride a wave for more than five seconds, he called it a day and came to find me on the beach.
“Ugh, I’m so frustrated” he exclaimed, dropping down next to me.
I waved my hand towards the newbies and asked him why he didn’t practice out there.
“The waves are too small. Plus, I know what I need to do, I’m just not doing it”, he replied.
With that, he lowered onto the board and began to practice his pop up.
Not willing to stop there, I said, “when I took riding lessons on the ranch, Olivia showed me how to hold my body. It felt really unnatural, but she explained that over time, I’d develop muscle memory. It’s like riding a bike. You don’t start with the ability to balance. First you learn with training wheels, and then you learn without them. What if it’s the same thing with surfing? It’s almost like you’re dead set on hitting a home run right away. Sorry to break it to you babe, but you’re not a natural.”
“Ugh. I know and that’s what’s frustrating. I’m good at every sport, so why not this?!”
In that moment, I recognized a fundamental human dilemma.
The more experienced we become, the less willing we are to be new.
When it comes to creating a different result or mastering a new skill or way of being—we want to make it happen, yesterday.
We want to be the expert NOW.
We want to look like we know what we’re doing.
But what’s the cost of our haste and unwillingness to start with where we are?
Important pieces of the foundation get glossed over and instead, we prop up our house with unrealistic expectations that are more than likely to come crashing down.
In Ryan’s case—it cost him frustration, his sense of confidence, and the ability to create real progress.
What if, instead of playing NOT to lose, we played TO WIN?
Creating or mastering anything of value asks for your dedication, devotion, and discipline. It asks you to start with where you are, even if that’s at the beginning with the smallest step.
How might it serve you to slow down and break things down?
Brick by brick, the master builds.
A couple of days later, when Ryan finally accepted that he wasn’t going to turn pro over night, he took his board out to practice on the small waves.
Not surprisingly, he caught almost every single one, which allowed him to make real progress with his pop up and balance.
I’ve never seen him beam with so much pride and joy!
What if trying to hit home runs
is actually preventing you from hitting home runs?
With love & curiosity,
-Kayla
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