Facing My Own Mediocrity
Reflections on failed mastery and diversification
Motivation and discipline are buzzwords in a culture captured by a profusion of sensual pleasures and distractions. Our attention is driven left and right like Newton's Cradle while we remain fixed in the same position. However for those untethered to paralyzing comforts and diversions, the greatest challenge lies not with inaction, but unrealized potential.
Months ago, I wrote a post on becoming a polymath, or in other words, how to diversify your skillset and thrive in various pursuits. In the post, one drawback I expressed is that you’ll likely find yourself in a place of mediocrity or with merely moderate proficiency in a desired field; but this reluctance towards mastery or the pursuit of maximized potential is not unique to polymaths. It’s something I’ve struggled with for years and still reflect on.
To best describe this predicament, I’ll explain my own personal experience. Ever since adolescence, I’ve rarely been impeded by a lack of motivation or discipline. Whether it’s fitness, business, literature, videography, or language, the audacity to try anything with confidence is seemingly ingrained in my genes. But the ability to start something is only the beginning. What plagues me is the lack of ambition to see a particular skill through to mastery or chase excellence within a field. I reach a respectable or above average status, but I fail to reach expertise. I've become the proverbial ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ and feel plunged into a pit of frustration. Is it better to be an amateur in a hundred fields or a master of one?
Each new hobby or skill I delve into feels like the twist of an arbor press flattening me further and further until my diversification has rendered me thin and useless. I hear Dostoevsky’s admonition in Netochka Nezvanova, “You're a hundred times greater an artist than I, if only you had my endurance,” except I have the endurance, but lack the focus or specialization to achieve the true mark of greatness.
As I’ve gotten older, this dilemma has crept up into my mind with greater frequency. Now as I approach new fields or skills, I plan to pursue them with more stringent demands and expectations. For example, as I study the Russian language, attaining basic fluency is not the goal, but instead C1 level proficiency. Or within literature, rather than broadening to an innumerable amount of genres or authors, I will narrow in on specific time periods or authorships that I’d like to reach greater expertise in.
Perhaps, writing this is a bit of catharsis for my personal quandary regarding mastery versus diversification, but I surmise many of you will resonate. It’s the sense of being pulled (either by yourself or others) in so many directions that your progress becomes stifled in all directions. To me, the complexity that lies in this question is greater than those posed by a lack of motivation of discipline. One is solved by strengthening willpower, while the other requires deep reflection and self-awareness of what one truly desires from their life.
I see it as seasons of life. When I was young, I didn't know what I deeply enjoyed because I enjoyed so much! As a home educator, I wanted to share all the wonders of the world with my children, so we explored as one does at a buffet, eating a little of this and more of that. Now I'm older, and I too have a smattering of skills but proficiency in few. But I know more what I deeply enjoy - still too much, but more concise than before. My time these days is both expanded (fewer responsibilities) and narrowed (health challenges), so my planning skills necessarily kick in.
All to say, a wide field of wildflowers is as lovely as a tight garden of roses.
Is excellence the only way to achieve the sense of purpose? I love your writing, it reminds me of myself in a lot of ways. In my late 20's, I'm beginning to see that striving towards excellence only brought me burden of my own expectations. I changed my aim a few times over the course of the last 10 years, lifting the bar higher and higher each time until I achieved the goals I set for myself. Now I'm beginning to question if I want to continue down that path - and that's alright. I might move to a village and start my own garden, ditch the effort I put in the past 10 years because I'd rather do that than continue pushing myself over the edge for a vision I had a few years ago. When it starts to drain you, change your aim. You already have an invaluable trait, the passion for achieving excellence. Priorities change, so I'd say you do what you feel is right in the moment and don't worry much about the outcome. Shine bright but don't burn in the process.