On Cultivating Excellence vs Pursuing Joy

In this youth-obsessed society, those who grow up in especially capitalist and competitive areas have a tiny voice whispering to do more, do better. The goal is always to win - even at the kindergarten level, teachers are telling you to 'do your best', because your best is still a tangible benchmark for achievement. As one can imagine, this pervasive world-view eventually leads to burnout. At what cost does one pursue excellence? What does it take to be an expert, especially in a time-poor world? 

One of the most popular 21st century authors is the eponymous Malcolm Gladwell. His book "Outliers" popularised the academic notion of practice making perfect. The ballpark number thrown out is around 10,000 hours to becoming an expert in whatever you put your mind to - be it drills to become a tennis star, memorising verbs to become fluent in Farsi, or practising flute scales to get into Juilliard. 

Growing up, it was always intimated to me that youth, being a precious and limited thing and stage in one's life, was to be maximised effectively in order to have some sort of achievement at the end of it. 

I practiced flute for three hours a day. I voraciously read books and churned out my own iterations of literature and poetry in order to work on my writing skills. 

And reached a critical point in high school where I ascended to a certain 'standard' - but at what cost? 

I realised that these activities became menial as I slowly lost interest and forgot why exactly I picked up these hobbies in the first place. After a certain point too, I noticed that no matter how many hours I devoted to the scales and listened to music to improve my musicality, the portion of my life I dedicated to improving myself on the flute just wouldn't....reflect in my actual flute-playing abilities. 

Slate's done an absolute bang-up job on summarising the many articles and journals that have come out arguing that ultimately, the prospect of expertise is influenced also through genetics and a wide variety of other factors, not just the sheer amount of practice. 

It doesn't matter that you locked yourself in a room at 30 years of age to learn chess for the first time with the ambition of becoming a grandmaster within 10,000 hours. That ship has sailed. Some things are apparently just ingrained into our DNA - Vox has an example of the Bach family which has produced a statistically disproportionate number of overachieving musical talents. 

In fact, a follow-up study to the 1993 study on deliberate practice yielded results decrying the initial findings. There was no meaningful difference between those who carved out time deliberately attempting to upskill compared to those who picked up an activity as a mere hobby.

It's lifted a huge weight off my shoulders, personally. Now I can pick up pottery because it brings me joy and makes me happy, even if I am not being courted by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art for ceramics that rival Voulkos. Or I can continue to take my barre classes without perhaps ever achieving the lithe, fourteen-year-old ballet body so coveted by my fellow goers. And I can continue to blog without shame that my readers never number into a follower-frenzy to compete with influencers.