We humans can be super hard on ourselves. If we don’t get things right the first time, it can be extremely tempting to just throw in the towel right away, and think “fine. it wasn’t meant to be.”
In an era where instant gratification is the name of the game and humans have more comparison points against their lives than ever before (thanks social media), learning a new craft or the keep on keeping on of an existing one can be daunting. I’m the queen of being too hard on myself, to the point where I used to be averse to trying new things because I was so afraid of being bad at them. That got old quickly enough, but even as someone who strives to live outside her comfort zone, standing up to fear of failure can still be a hard muscle to hone, and an even harder muscle to flex. I know intellectually that I need to trust the process and that practice leads to improvement, but when you’re in the thick of it, sometimes bringing that type of dedication to something that feels new and awkward feels like grasping for straws, or bellyflopping time and again. Sometimes you need more to hold onto than just the old adage “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Because when many of us are trying to venture onto new horizons, we’re not trying to build the next Roman empire. We’re just trying to feel good about something we currently feel novice AF about.
So today, my dear friends, I’m asking something else to take center stage in the motivation and perseverance compartment of your brain (neuroscientists all over the world are squirming at that scientifically inaccurate phrase right there). Today I’m asking us to think about potatoes. Say what? Yes, potatoes. I’m going to go ahead and assume that potatoes might not ever have crossed your mind as being inspirational.
But I’m here, ladies and gents, to set the record straight on just how interesting potatoes can be. It all started with a trip to Peru in July of 2017. If you travel to Peru– or eat at any Peruvian restaurant for that matter– it becomes instantly clear that potatoes are a main player in their delicious cuisine. Potatoes show up in many many plates: in Lomo Saltado, in salads, in fried form, as a side to their scrumptious chicken dishes, in Papa a la Huancaina…
When I was in Peru, I learned that not only are their potatoes top-notch, but they are unimaginably varied in their forms, as well. I learned on that trip that Peru grows approximately 4,000 different types of potatoes. That’s insane. I’m pretty sure if someone asked me to start naming as many different types of potatoes, I’d be like “umm…Mashed..fried…boiled…” and obviously none of those count because that just focuses on food prep. This wondrous variety is because of the many climates and soil types that occur within the area, and the way that the people of Peru learned how to work within those climates and soil types to produce such an impressive degree of agricultural diversity.
But get this — the first potato that the Incas grew wasn’t edible. That’s right, I’ll type that again. The first potato that the Incas grew wasn’t edible. As in, one of the agricultural masterpieces and central food staple of the region wasn’t an overnight success. It took tons and tons of tinkering. If you visit any of the agricultural and other ruins of the Incan empire, you will notice the terrace-like feature of the land. With terrace farming, the Inca people could benefit from flat surfaces they created, grow different crops at different levels (in certain regions, there was a stark difference in temperature and soil type farther down or up the hill), and control the irrigation systems and distribute water more evenly and strategically. But just as with any great invention, they didn’t get it on the first try. It took planting the potato at different levels, using different soils, under varying conditions, and sometimes letting nature carry the seeds around to a few different places (Mother Nature knows best, does she not?) before they had their [very impactful] “a-ha” moment.
Is that the epitome of “Food for thought” or what? 😉 I’m sorry I had to.
So potatoes. Fear of failure. Now that you know what you know, it’s a little bit less of a stretch, right? It all comes down to this. When you’re new at something, you’re not going to knock it out of the park the first time. In fact, it will feel like you’re failing a high percentage of the time. But those pain points, those times when you try and don’t reach where you want to be as quickly or smoothly as you’d like to or as you’d envisioned, all of those moments are making you that much of an expert. Those moments are getting you leaps and bounds closer to the place that you’ve got your eye set on, to the point of mastery or at the very least, ease and comfort with a skill. If you let fear of failure hold you back, you guarantee one thing and one thing only: nothing will happen.
Can you imagine if the Incas tinkering with the potatoes had been like “whatever dude. this is dumb.” (Not like they necessarily had that as an option, but still. Going for perspective here.) Not only would it have had a vastly detrimental impact on their livelihood, economy, legacy, and culture, but think of how much everyone in the present day would be missing out. I personally don’t want to think of a world without Peruvian potatoes. I know with that last statement I’m sounding ridiculously flippant, but I love carbs and I love cuisine and I love metaphors. And fear of failure doesn’t always have to feel so heavy.
HERE’S THE BOTTOM LINE: do not deprive yourself or the world from going after something you’d like to explore because you’re afraid of what a few missteps might bring.
The expert at anything was once a beginner. The first potatoes weren’t edible. In my earliest teaching days, I was reading directly from the curriculum books to the class. (I still shudder to think about that, but it’s true. And important to reflect on). That “thing,” that unlearned skill, that curiosity that you’re ruminating about currently has the potential to not just be a giant gift to you, but a giant gift to the world as well. Go get ’em.