"The hardest thing is always the hardest thing." This thought started to work its way into consciousness when I finally took notice something that had been in place from my earliest days as a piano student: The most difficult piece of music becomes easier and a new "most difficult" piece takes its place. In other words, progress occurs. This applies to figure skating as well, which is where I first took notice. The most difficult jump or spin becomes easier and a new jump or spin becomes "the hardest thing."
At the time I first made this observation, I didn't fully realize the power of the hardest thing in one area to transform many areas of life. I also didn't realize that the hardest thing can be ongoing.
For me, the hardest thing has always been performing, but not just any performing. First, it was playing the piano in recitals and in church. Near the end of my piano-playing "career", the hardest thing shifted to performing and competing with a well-known precision skating team, as I was not a proficient skater at the time. Public speaking? Although I was an introverted and nerdy student, the few occasions I had the opportunity to stand up in front of a group seemed far less intimidating than "performing." After all, it was just talking!
I continued to make barely observable progress in my skating skills through college, graduate school and my first years in the "real world." When my then-coach suggested that I take up the brand new sport of adult competitive skating, I was equal parts anxious and excited. What a journey that turned out to be! Nothing in my life to date has been as psychologically challenging, as daunting or as hard as mastering the mind game of competing and performing. It took me just over fifteen years; years of pre-competition anxiety, asthma attacks, injuries, humiliation and just enough reinforcement to keep coming back. I knew I could do it--other people did, and I was determined.
Along the way to becoming a competent, if not enthusiastic, skating performer, something else happened. It wasn't overnight, and I didn't really notice at first, but when given the opportunity to learn or do something unfamiliar, I began to think, "I can do that!" instead of, "Oh, no! New and different is scary! Run away!" Faux-finishing 3,000 square feet of interior space? Calling out an administrator for giving incorrect information? Organizing a fund-raising auction? Leaving a school career for business? Speaking to a large audience? As it turns out, all of these things were less psychologically intimidating than competing and performing.
I love teaching adults to ice skate, especially those who have never been on skates before. They shuffle out, clutching the boards with one hand and keeping a death grip on a helper with the other. We learn how to fall properly, and how to stand unassisted. At the end of the first lesson, they shuffle off, clinging to the boards. By the end of the fourth lesson, they are marching, slowly, back and forth across the ice. They have conquered Fear, and I applaud and cheer for them. Although I don't know what goes on in the rest of their lives, I hope and believe that they have discovered the transformative power of the hardest thing.
