We’ve forgotten The Art of Practice
We’ve become obsessed with fixing. Fix the problem. Fix the gap. Fix yourself. Preferably between the hours of 5 - 6pm before you have to decide what to cook for the gazillionith night on the bounce. And if it doesn’t fix quickly enough, we assume something’s gone wrong, because we have to move fast, already running to keep up, always feeling a bit behind.
Although when questioned most people aren't sure why, what or who they are chasing but never-the-less we fix all the things on more speed than you could buy at a 90s rave in Blackburn; otherwise the sky might fall in; whether planning, problem-solving, project management, personal commitments and all the professional development.
And the cost of that? You never actually feel like you’ve arrived anywhere, just permanently mid-fix, mid-chase, mid-exhaustion. Always running to catch up, feeling a bit behind, like you've never quite achieved. Living in perpetual motion without any recognition of the route we are on. Always cracking on, forgetting to crack on, on purpose.
We’ve forgotten one of the most important parts of the whole thing, of being human.
The Art of Practice.
The bit in the middle where it’s still taking shape. The actual schizzle you are living, leading, working in right now.
Instead. You hit a wobble, a stretch moment, a bit where your confidence dips, your courage deserts you or your energy goes sideways and the instinct is to reach for a solution that tidies it up quickly so you can carry on being the capable one everyone relies on. The instinct part of our brain, that bit of the brain that keeps us ticking over wants to get rid of the problem; the rational part of our brain doesn't get a look in because we're consistently operating in constant survival mode, scanning for all the danger, fixing.
But that also skips the bit where growth actually lives; skips it faster than my Now That's What I Call Music 1986 album thankfully skipped right over Word Up by Cameo.
Embracing the art of practice means we also embrace the gloriously messy middle - or the liminal space. The art of passing through these transition spaces; the bit where you’re trying things on, noticing what works, what doesn’t, what needs disrupting, what needs doubling down. Where we are practicing how we want to be in life, in leadership, in business. The experimentation bit, because the practice is the bit we are living right now. That's the art of self-mastery.
That’s the work. That’s the practice. That's the joy. It's a process.
When you start treating your life and leadership like a practice, it changes our lens, it allows our rational brain to get a look in.
You stop waiting to feel ready. You start experimenting. You give yourself permission to flex, to recalibrate, to try again without turning it into a full-blown identity quake.
This is exactly why I teach, coach, train, wang on about my self-leadership GPS system. It's a way to move; a navigation system to move forward but with consideration of how you want to get there, noticing the route, the roadmap and the practice.
GPS gives you a way to practise without turning every wrong turn into a judgement on who you are. And really importantly it brings a bit of joy into the practice, a bit of fun, the enjoyment of the process, of the journey (I've been trying to avoid using that word during this whole article).
Think about a sat nav. It doesn’t throw its toys out of the pram when you take a wrong turn. It doesn’t question your capability or suggest you probably shouldn’t be driving. It simply says, recalculating. It looks at where you are now. It considers where you want to go. It offers a few options depending on pace, preference, what matters most in that moment. And sometimes just decides to go completely off piste - just my sat nav?
Sometimes you take the faster route. Sometimes it's the long way round.
It pauses to recalibrate. And then cracks on, on purpose.
Practice does not make perfect. New routes feel different, take practice but maybe if we start enjoying the practice, we also remove some of the pressure we put on ourselves; maybe the navigation becomes the art - not the final destination.
Practice builds progress you can trust, because you've practiced it, because you've noticed the practice.
It's why I operate Practice Co-Labs, sessions where you can determine what the practice might look like, show up like, feel like, act like, and enjoy the process. The Practice Co-Labs in this week's Crack On, with Permission Experience were just that; spaces where experienced, brilliant women collaborated through peer to peer connection and conversation on how they gave themselves permission to crack on. In FoundHer Fire, we practice what a new route could look like as we navigate change, transition, new routes, harder journeys. In leaderships labs, we practice what leadership in practice looks like, feels like, how it shows up for sustainable success and high performance. The power is in the practice. There is no quick fix.
Because when you stop trying to fix yourself and start practising being yourself, blimey o'riley do we start to view the route a little differently.
