Doing It for the First Time
Embracing the discomfort of incompetence is the first step toward eradicating it.
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You'd think after a lifetime of doing stuff for the first time, the list of stuff would begin to shrink. But nearly every week, I awaken from a stupor and discover I'm neck-deep in some new task I've never had a reason to attempt before.
The other day I replaced the rim on an outdoor basketball hoop. One of the nubbins that holds the net broke off two years ago and when I finally decided to remove the rim to solder it back on, I discovered the nut rusted and frozen on the retaining bolt. No amount of PB Blaster™ cracked the code, so I had no choice but to cut the bolt head off with an angle grinder (also a first). A few days before that, I used a woodworking router for the first time. I needed the router to finish off the first piece of furniture I ever made, an oversized shoe bench for our entryway. A few days before that, I was up to my shoulders in fender metal in my first-ever attempt to replace the passenger-side inner tie rod on my wife's 2012 Mazda that recently developed a knocking sound in the suspension. And the list goes on.
There's terror in trying new things. I think it varies in severity depending on the person, but I've found the terror getting quieter over the years the more new things I take on. I still have all my appendages, I haven't burned any houses down yet, and the wheels haven't come off any family members' cars on their way to the clandestine meetings they attend behind my back. Although in the spirit of full disclosure, my oldest son called me once about a loud bang he felt on the road, thinking he ran something over. He was only 10 minutes away so I told him to hold tight while I went to investigate. It turns out a brake caliper bolt fell out causing the brake pad housing to shift, slamming against the inside of his rim. I could swear I torqued those down properly. I drove to the parts store to pick up a new bolt, reinstalled it, and saved the day. Sure, I was the reason the day needed saving, but let's skip over that part. And for the record, that was not my first time working on brakes, so I can't even blame it on inexperience.
A funny thing happens when we get used to trying new things. Because no matter what we do, there are always voices in our heads predicting we'll screw it up. Self-doubt is as human as it gets. But as we get more practice experiencing the beginner's journey, our competence in navigating the concept of unknown territory increases. This leads to a more skillful negotiation of the unexpected, to the point where the bumps and bruises of learning something new become an integral part of the experience, thus removing the shroud of negativity that used to come with them.
When that happens, the terror becomes unrecognizable. It remains as a glimpse, reminding you of the fact that you're about to embark on something different and that it might go catastrophically wrong. But we, as connoisseurs of fresh challenges and unfamiliar tasks, know better. And we have the mileage to prove it.