The Terrifying and Delightful Territory of Learning New Things
As a teacher, I live in a world of learning. Curiosity, discovery, and the development of new skills and insights make for a territory of delight and wonder. It can be a magical place to spend time.
But it can be scary, too. Like all animals, humans crave comfort. We love ease and familiarity. We like to feel skillful, knowledgeable, and confident. Real learning requires courage. Courage to be uncomfortable, vulnerable.
I’m naturally a curious person, but I also really love my safe spaces, my cozy habits and thoughts. So I’m often in a bit of a struggle with myself, especially when there’s something important at stake. It is easy for me to give way to my curiosity about how to build miniature furniture for my dollhouse, or the philosophy behind Terrence Malick films. But learning how to promote a book on a topic that is so important. . . that’s much harder. Social media, websites, podcasts, eventually speaking engagements (that’s a whole other realm of anxiety!) are all new territory for me, requiring many new skills, persistence, endurance, trial and error, and lots of help.
My experiences as a teacher, and the many lessons children have taught me about the nature of learning, have been important guides for me in these unfamiliar lands. The phrase “get out of your comfort zone” is one I’ve often heard as a motivator for personal growth. It has the connotation for me of jumping into fire, into something dangerous. That approach to learning no doubt works for some (and sometimes it’s necessary), but my experience is a little different. Too great a challenge at too fast a pace can be overwhelming and actually cause retreat. I have often found that to be the case for myself and for many of the children I have worked with.
Instead of “out of the comfort zone,” there is the edge of the “comfort zone,” a narrow band where learning occurs with greater ease. As this narrow band gently expands, so does the sphere of knowledge, skills, and confidence. It is comprised of small, sustained effort. It makes me think of the comedy What About Bob? and Dr. Leo Marvin’s “baby steps therapy.” Humor also helps when you're learning something new! Another image I have for this “edge of comfort zone” learning, a metaphor given to me by a friend, is of feeding a baby bird. The parents give their babies tiny bits of food, little by little. It doesn’t mean that baby will never be able to feed him or herself, but right now at the beginning they take small bites.
So setting small goals for myself has been helpful. I’m not going to master Instagram in a week, or a month. I’m going to learn about one feature today. And I may have to learn it again over the next few days. I’m not going to book a year’s worth of appearances. I’m going to make a list of five conferences that would be a good fit for my book. And if that feels like too much, I will spend just fifteen minutes researching possible conferences. I’m not going to find all the bookstores in my state and send out press releases. I’m going to make a list of three bookstores in my immediate area, and contact one this week.
Small steps, slowly taken, are important. Also required is patience and, unsurprisingly, compassion. I try to remember this when I think of speaking in public. It is terrifying to me. I don’t do it very often. And I am not skilled at it. And of course that creates a vicious cyle. I’m never going to build skills if I don’t do it, so it will continue to terrify me. However, it seems more and more unavoidable in book promotion these days. It may be one of those times when I will have to just leap “out of my comfort zone,” because it will never be magically comfortable for me. So I need to remember patience and compassion. Patience, as I remember that I will not be good at public speaking right away, or maybe for a long time. And compassion for myself in letting go of judgment, not comparing myself to others. Everyone seems so articulate and at ease speaking in meetings, at conferences, on podcasts — what’s wrong with me? Instead, I will need to practice compassionate self-talk: “I’m doing something that is really, really hard for me.” “ I’m doing the best I can right now, and that is all anyone can ever do.” “Courage is not being unafraid; it is being afraid and still doing the scary thing.”
These are the same kinds of thoughts I hold in my heart and say to my students when they are struggling with something. They are so brave and give me so much inspiration!
Finally, learning calls for community. We learn from others and by asking for help. Even if it’s just watching a YouTube video. Someone took the time to make that video on creating miniature illuminated manuscripts (a real thing, and so cool!) so that other people could learn how to make them. As I have begun the process of promoting my book, I have, not just humbly, but eagerly, asked for help from friends and family. The folks at Lantern Publishing patiently answer my questions and motivate me with their enthusiasm for my book. My darling nieces are helping me navigate the labyrinthine mechanisms of Instagram. Another friend is helping me develop this website. Many other friends are sending me messages of encouragement. In community, the project does not seem so daunting and overwhelming. At times, in fact, it has been, dare I say, fun!
And so the terrifying shadow passes, and the territory of learning regains its delight and wonder.
