Letting Go: Lessons from a Slacker’s Toy
Over the weekend, I felt stressed and wanted to relax, so I ended up grabbing my skateboard and heading to a parking lot, which I haven’t done since I was like 15. Everything just melted away. The snarl of wheels against concrete like a rottweiler. I really like that edge between messing around and physical activity; you gasp a little for air and your shirt gets hot but you don’t quite sweat. I ended up typing most of this on my Blackberry as I did this–forgetting completely about whatever I had been working on.
What I picked up again quickly was that at a certain point, no matter how hard I would push or the faster I would try to go, I wouldn’t see a different. But if I just toned it down a little, I could ride better. That it is, there was no real correlation between how hard I would push off or how many times I did it and my overall speed. In golf, try to purposely not hit it hard–a half swing often is twice as powerful.
And I think that’s how a lot of things are–the harder you push and struggle and strain the worse you are. A rabbit in a snare grinding the wire down to the bone. We caught this rat as a kid and it chewed itself in half to escape the trap. Needless to say it still died, and not pleasantly. Finesse. Fluidity. Kicking and thrashing–forget what’s more effective, which one feels better?
I have been flipping through the Inner Game of Tennis and he talks about the two selves–the “I am talking to myself” dichotomy. And how the tension between the two is the source of many athletic problems. I sort of realized that this was the same: when I quieted the voice the kept prompting me to push harder, I felt the rattling die off and the speed increase.
I know for me because I am young, the impulse is towards force or passion. But that’s not how things are. All around us there is a natural energy and a flow to things and you can tap into that. You know, the groove, the pocket, the current–all those terms we throw around to describe other people’s freedom of movement but never really bother thinking about for ourselves. Ferriss talks about this–about just letting go and realizing that a little momentum can carry you further than all your frantic scrambling. I am starting to feel that when you stop trying so hard and let your subconscious do what it needs to, you find better results than you do in the Pyrrhic battle for control.
There is a term for this commonly used in motor racing — “Slow down and go faster.” Especially on complex road courses, the impulse to go faster and really throw yourself into the corners at full speed will slow you down as you’re barely in control, while finessing it in better and setting up your corners properly will help you actually get around the track much more quickly.
Luckily, many drivers have a crew chief or spotter in their ears who can occasionally remind them to slow down and go faster. I’ve long wondered if maybe that’s a lesson we could adapt to our own pursuits.
You better give me my copy of Inner Game of Tennis back when you’re done.
great post. have you seen the movie revolver? this post made me think of it because it shows that always, at some level, you are your own greatest enemy.
wow… seriously.. I should hire you and stick you in my head to whisper stuff like this to me when I do stupid things. Not pushing but flowing… yeah baby, I should reeeeally do that sometimes… *sigh*
Love the posts Ryan, but PLEASE, have someone proof them before you put them up, hell, send it to me first, I’ll proof it!!! I’m getting the meanings in your posts, but the mistakes are a distraction. Keep up the good work.
One of my favorite race car drivers said “You drive as slow as possible to win the race”. If you examine one, you’ll see the guys going hard at all times make mistakes, have nasty bouts of oversteer, spin out, lock their brakes up. And the winners drive fluidly, always on the knife edge but a bit below, with that bit of finesse and grace that seperates them from the rest. Take it for what its worth.
Great post. You hit the nail right on the head and using golf was a perfect example. It’s so true, isn’t it? The ball goes significantly further and straighter when you slow down and focus on perfecting your technique.
I strongly agree with another one of your points, too: letting your subconscious do what it has to do yielding better results. Getting the feel and dynamic of a room or a crowd or a situation is much more effective than trying to force your interpretation of it onto reality. The most vivid example I can think of are the guys (sometimes girls) you see at parties, trying excruciatingly hard to be the alpha, the center of attention. Even though its not who they are, just who they think they should be. When, really, if you want to meet interesting people (or even just pretty girls… or, better still, a combination of the two) letting the momentum of the moment naturally take you in the direction of your goals works infinitely better.
I just started it–and I promise I won’t write any notes in it.
The Tao that can be named is not the real Tao.
Go with the flow man.
Is Revolver worth seeing?
I know, I am awful at proofing. If you’re actually volunteering, drop me an email. I’ll pay you in books or something.