Mastery

Dripping with sweat, I try not to compare myself to the people around me. I’m willing my body to bend itself in new ways when the yoga instructor says, “This is a practice, don’t expect mastery.”

The words ring like a gong in my head, which is at this moment twisted—right cheek flat against the mat. Nope, I don’t think I’ll ever reach that goalpost in this discipline. Judging by my current awkward position, it’s pretty clear I’m never going to be a yogi. Just a willing student. 

So what does it mean if I aim to improve but don’t expect to achieve mastery? Is it worth the effort?

Lying on this mat, wondering how deep the textured grooves in my face will be when we finally shift positions, I reflect on my years as a piano student. At age twelve, I’d get up at 5am to practice scales and technique for an hour everyday. It was a grind, but oddly more satisfying, longer-lasting, than the afterglow of winning a competition. 

I noticed this not just after musical successes, but also after collecting Emmy awards, earning promotions, completing long hikes and a mini marathon. After the first, short-lived fizz fizzled, my excitement degraded into a “box ticked” feeling. Then I’d immediately set my sights on the next goal, almost as if I could hear the word “Next!” reverberate in my head. 

I discovered the rewards of discipline, regular practice and the micro-improvements made by continuous practice. I’m satisfied by taking each intermediate step, knowing I may never “measure up” to who or what others may be comparing me to. It’s why I pursued a masters degree in Creative Writing in my 50s knowing I may never have a book published. I. 

Contemplating the goal of mastery will become more common as we see AI integrate into our everyday lives. I mean, it’s bad enough when you allow yourself to compare your performance with other humans (or the superhumans who appear to be taking this yoga class). What if you're up against artificial intelligence? People will need a clear idea of their “why” to keep going.

I found my “why” for writing in unexpected ways. It’s not just a creative outlet, but a way to work through tough times. Writing’s helped me develop not just stronger writing skills, but also emotional resilience. I choose to keep honing my craft because I’m constantly learning and growing, in ways I never expected.

So, I won’t try to bend into positions that are beyond my capability. I’ll just relax, where I am,  and appreciate how I’m growing stronger and more limber each time I try. The effort itself is enough, and the process of improving can last an entire lifetime. 

I challenge you to pursue mastery for the fun of the pursuit, understanding that what you learn along the journey might be more satisfying than earning a title, or reaching level, in the end. Enjoy the quest of becoming a better human—while remembering you are human.

(Image by Ginny Rose Stewart, Unsplash)