Micromastery: Learn Small, Learn Fast, and Unlock Your Potential to Achieve Anything
256
Micromastery: Learn Small, Learn Fast, and Unlock Your Potential to Achieve Anything
256eBook
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Overview
Forget spending 10,000 hours in the pursuit of perfecting just one thing. The true path to success and achievement lies in the pursuit of perfecting lots and lots of small things--for a big payoff.
Combining positive psychology, neuroscience, self-help and more, this delightfully illuminating book encourages us to circumvent all the reasons we "can't" learn and grow (we're too busy, it's too complicated, we're not experts, we didn't start when we were young) -- by tackling small, satisfying skills.
Wish you were a seasoned chef? Learn to make a perfect omelette. Dream of being a racecar driver? Perfect a handbrake turn. Wish you could draw? Make Zen circles your first challenge. These small, doable tasks offer a big payoff -- and motivate us to keep learning and growing, with payoffs that include a boost in optimism, confidence, memory, cognitive skills, and more.
Filled with surprising insights and even a compendium of micromastery skills to try yourself, this engaging and inspiring guide reminds us of the simple joy of learning -- and opens the door to limitless, lifelong achievement, one small step at a time.
Micromasteries presented in the book (with illustrations) include: Learn How to Climb a Rope, Surf Standing Up, Talk for Fifteen Minutes about Any Subject, Bake Artisan Bread, Juggle Four Balls, Learn to Read Japanese in Three Hours, and more.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780525504306 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Penguin Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 03/06/2018 |
| Sold by: | Penguin Group |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 256 |
| File size: | 6 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
What is Micromastery?
Start with the egg, not the chicken
YouTube has clips of The Great Egg Race, a long-running TV show in the 1980s, hosted by an amiable German-born egghead called Dr. Heinz Wolff. Like a forerunner and more inventive version of Scrapheap Challenge, contestants had to build a gadget with limited resources to meet the challenge set out at the start of the show. In the early series all the tasks involved an egg that mustn't be broken, the first task being to make a machine to transport an egg the farthest distance possible using only paper clips, card, and rubber bands. It was such a simple idea, yet it gave rise to incredibly inventive machines. And it all started with an egg, something rather small and humble.
Life can be overwhelming. We want to do as much as we can, see the world, learn new things-and it can all get a bit too much. I reached a point in my life when I felt that I could no longer be interested in everything. I had to shut some of life out, and I didn't like that. I was living under the assumption-the false assumption, as it turned out-that to know anything worthwhile took years of study, so I might as well forget it.
But something inside me rebelled. I still wanted to learn new things and make new things. They didn't have to be big things-I was happy to leave that till later. Start small, start humble.
Start with an egg.
So I was thinking about how long it would take to learn how to cook really well. I recalled a chef telling me that the real test is doing something simple-like making a perfect omelet. Everything you know about cooking comes out in this simple dish. So I decided to switch the order around. Instead of spending 10,000 hours learning the basics of cookery and then showing my expertise in omelet making, I'd start with just making an omelet.
I really focused on making that omelet. I separated it from the basic need that cooking usually fulfills-filling my stomach-so that it now occupied a special, singular place in my life. It had become a micromastery.
A micromastery is a self-contained unit of doing, complete in itself but connected to a greater field. You can perfect that single thing or move on to bigger things-or you can do both. A micromastery is repeatable and has a success payoff. It is pleasing in and of itself. You can experiment with the micromastery because it has a certain elasticity-you can bend it and stretch it, and as you do you learn in a three-dimensional way that appeals to the multisensory neurons in our brain.
It's the way we learn as kids. You never absorb all the fundamentals straight away-you learn one cool thing, then another. You learn a 360 on a skateboard or how to make a crystal radio. My father was a teacher, and he hoped to encourage me when he told me that he would buy me the parts to make a transistor radio when I could explain how a transistor worked. My interest died immediately. I knew how to make the radio and have fun with it, but having to explain it was something difficult, adult, and alien. And wrong. (Dad, I forgive you.)
Hungarian psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi has written extensively about "flow"-a state in which time seems to be suspended because our interest and involvement in what we're doing are so great. A micromastery, because it is repeatable without being repetitious, has all the elements that allow us to enter a flow state, which produces great contentment and enhances physical and mental health.
Learning a micromastery doesn't commit you in that deadening way that buying a beginner's textbook does. By its limited nature, it gives you permission to remain interested in the world. It doesn't mean you have to commit to doing that thing for what feels like forever, and at the same time it spares you any worries that you've wasted your time.
Do you know the feeling of doing an introductory course on something, which you give up on, and then a few years later you try to tell others what you learned, but you can't remember? A micromastery isn't like that. It's with you forever-and it's nice to have something to show others. For instance if you learn a martial art you need something to shut people up with when they say, "Go on, show us a move."
A micromastery has a structure that connects in a crucial way to important elements in the greater field it is a part of. It reveals relationships and balances in the elements of the task that mere words and explanation, textbook-style, cannot. Its repeatability and gameability-people like that omelet, ask for another, you start to aim higher-turn it into a self-teaching mechanism, where experimentation within certain defined limits greatly increases your learning.
But let's get back to starting with an egg-or two.
A chef gave me the tip about using the fork to bulk up the omelet. I kept practicing. I went online and found more tips. Then a French woman told me about separating the yolk from the white, which allows your omelet to double in thickness and softness. When it's served, people simply go: "Wow!"
This is what I call the "entry trick." Every micromastery has one. It is a way, in one stroke, to elevate your performance at that task and get an immediate payoff-a rush of rewarding neurochemicals, which is a nice warm feeling.
In some micromasteries, the entry trick is huge, an integral part of the whole thing. In others it just gives you enough of a push to get you going. There are lots of big-shot learners out there boasting of their ability to master foreign languages, get calculus down, or absorb C++ programming, but they all seem to miss this point. Learning must not be like school; it must not be boring. It doesn't need to be silly fun, but it mustn't be deadening or dull or too hard. The entry trick, in one fell swoop, sweeps all that away.
A great entry trick is used in stone balancing. Maybe you've seen some stone-sculptor type doing it at the beach. It looks like magic-rounded rocks and mini-boulders balancing on each other in a seemingly impossible way. The first time I saw such a sculpture I thought it had to have glue or metal rods inside it . . . and then I watched a small boy knock it over. When I attempted to help rebuild it, the sculptor showed me the entry trick.
(The pictures are some I made myself on the beach, later, when I had learned how to do it.)
You can balance any stone at all, but you must find three raised bits close together on one side of the supporting stone-three bumps, three nodules, or even three grains. They can be tiny, almost invisible. In fact the smaller they are, the better it looks. These three bumps act as a flat triangle for another curved object to fit into. That's how you make these crazy balances work. People look for flat bits on the stones to make them stand on each other, but that doesn't work because nothing in nature is really flat.
Stone balancing is not only fun, but also a perfect form of micromastery. It is complete in itself, but it could also lead you further into the greater world of sculpture and outdoor art-should you want to go there.
Anyone can do it
We envy the person who has a perfect French accent, who can roll a kayak, perform a double or even triple integral in math or compose a poem that isn't laughable; who can draw something well, do a magic trick, or lay a brick wall that doesn't fall down. These are perceived as hard things to learn that signify a greater mastery of the field concerned. But with micromastery you start with the test piece and then-and only then-do you go back upstream to explore more.
Why?
Because the biggest reasons for not achieving anything are giving up, failing to gain momentum, and becoming distracted. You may imagine you are tough and self-contained, but we all need a payoff as soon as we start learning. Especially if it's been a while since we tried anything new. If you don't have microsuccesses along the way you'll lose heart and give up, especially if you are learning something on your own.
Rapid learning techniques, intensive courses, and shortcuts are all very well, but if you haven't got a show-offable product at the end you'll give up. It's no good telling your friends and family that you have a broad knowledge of the background of math or a working acquaintanceship with magic tricks. "Come on," they'll say, "show us something now!"
Having a micromastery gives you something to boast about (as loudly or as quietly as you like). It gives something to connect you to others, and earn that all-important feedback. No man, woman, or child is an island-and yet we are taught as if we are solitary brain-blobs who just suck up knowledge until one miraculous day we are "masters," "qualified," "ready to teach," or some other spurious designation. We are not like that. Humans want to pass on what they have learned straight away, not five years later.
Ask the experts
Those who have mastered their field are often a great source of insight, and I have talked to many such experts to produce the micromasteries outlined in this book. They often approach their subject from a perspective I'd never have thought about.
When I spoke to former England Schools rugby player and coach of the Nigerian Sevens team Rupert Seldon, he didn't, as I'd expected, suggest spin passing as a micromastery of his sport. He preferred the drop kick, a more technical skill. A Madame Tussauds sculptor told me how modeling a human skull from clay, or even Plasticine, is a micromastery that starts you on the path to producing lifelike sculptures. He explained how you see the "skull beneath the skin" when you look at someone you want to model.
Usually, I combine asking an expert with my own research. Having learned traditional martial arts in Japan, I already knew that the Japanese use kata and self-contained exercises-micromasteries-in most of their teaching.
The Japanese approach to learning-be it martial arts, the tea ceremony, or calligraphy-is different from Western methods of teaching. In the West the tacit assumption is that you either start very young, possibly driven by obsessive parents, or you have an innate talent. Teaching is conceived as a kind of coaching, and if you haven't got the talent you're considered a lost cause.
The Japanese know that talent is rather overrated. More important is your attitude toward learning. So their method of teaching assumes that everyone can learn-whatever their initial level of skill. Instead of hoping that students "pick it up" by osmosis, as is done in the West, micromastery routines are devised so that everyone, even the apparently talentless, can learn.
Drawing is a good case in point. Lots of people swear they "can't draw," but that usually means they can't draw a picture that looks like someone. This is like saying you can't cook when you haven't ever read a recipe book or bought any ingredients. You have to start a few stages further back, with something simple, something humble.
Shoo Rayner-who has illustrated hundreds of children's books-has a website dedicated to helping people learn to draw. When I talked to him he emphasized that all objects can be reduced to simple shapes-cubes, spheres, and cylinders-and these can be even further reduced to lines and curves. He said, "If you can draw a line, you can draw." The next step is to draw straight lines and then curved lines-which is where Zen circles come in.
The thing I like to look for first is the entry trick, the piece of insider information that elevates your initial attempt above that of the average first-timer and shows you the way into the micromastery. With circle-drawing there are not one but three tricks to get you going.
Holding your pencil, pen, or, ideally, brush midway down its handle is the single easiest way to improve drawing. The further you can move your gripping finger and thumb from the point, the easier you will find it. There will be a miraculous improvement over the crabbed, nib-pinching style many of us have developed from our schooldays. Holding the pen higher up will improve not only all your drawing, but also your handwriting.
You can then try lifting your hand off the table and using your whole arm, rather than just your hand isolated at the wrist, to make the circle. The neurological reason for doing this is that a greater area of the brain is being stimulated, so the learning is deeper and, ultimately, a greater refinement of movement is possible. Classical guitarist David Leisner claimed that he recovered from focal hand dystonia, the repetitive-strain illness that often affects guitarists, by retraining using his whole arm instead of just his wrist. This not only aided his recovery, but also, amazingly, improved his performances.
Another entry trick, beloved by signwriters who need to get very accurate curves and circles, is to rest your drawing hand on your fist. Make the circle by using a combination of moving the drawing arm while also moving the fist to guide it. You can experiment with how much you move the supporting fist.
Seeing the world in terms of micromasteries makes anything seem possible. Fancy bookbinding? Yoga? Tap dancing or tank driving? All have their micromasteries. It's very liberating-you no longer have to feel trapped in whatever your day job happens to be. You will start, in a small way-a humble way-to get your life back from the idea the world seems to push on us that we should do just one thing all our lives.
Inside a Micromastery
When you've seen someone start a fire in the woods using just their hands and a wooden drill, or cook a perfect omelet, or lead you in a snappy tango across the dance floor, you don't forget it easily. These skillful activities all look hard, but the difficulty is made manageable by using the structure necessary to achieve them.
Every micromastery has a precise structure:
1. The entry trick
2. The rub-pat barrier
3. Background support
4. The payoff
5. Repeatability
6. Experimental possibilities
Knowing the structure helps you learn the micromastery, and also helps you identify other things as potential micromasteries. It enables you, on approaching a new subject of study, to identify for yourself the parts of it that can be micromastered, thus speeding up the learning and increasing your chances of sticking with it.
Table of Contents
Micromastery 1
What is Micromastery? 3
Inside a Micromastery 16
Dynamic Learning 27
Locate Hidden Micromasteries (They Are Everywhere) 32
Help Yourself 40
Multiple Micromastery and Synergy 65
Polymathic Paradise 76
Creativity Explosion 83
Micromastery Central 91
1 Do a Line Sketch That Looks Creditable 93
2 Do an Eskimo Roll 96
3 Find the Depth of a Well or a Deep Hole 101
4 Chop Through a Log (or Even a Tree) 104
5 Learn How to Climb a Rope 107
6 Surf Standing Up 111
7 Talk for Fifteen Minutes about Any Subject 115
8 Lay a Brick Wall 118
9 Write Dialogue 122
10 Make a Clay Skull 125
11 Bake Excellent Artisan Bread 128
12 Make a Sword Hum Through the Air 132
13 Make String from Nettles 135
14 Sing Solo, Even If You Are Tone Deaf 138
15 Master the Bench Press 141
16 Learn "La Marseillaise" 144
17 Do a Soccer Elastico 146
18 Build a Superstack of Wood 150
19 Develop Film Using Coffee and Salt 154
20 Do a High-Speed Getaway J-Turn 157
21 Make Sushi … That Actually Looks and Tastes Like Sushi 160
22 Tell a Story That Will Enthrall Any Child 163
23 Immobilize Someone with an Aikido Hold 165
24 Juggle Four Balls 168
25 Master the Three-Card Trick 171
26 Grow a Bonsai Tree 175
27 Make a Perfect Soufflé Every Time 178
28 Make a Perfect Cube of Wood 181
29 Mix a Delightful Daiquiri 185
30 Walk the Tango Walk 188
31 Make Fire by Rubbing Two Sticks Together 191
32 Make Your Handwriting Beautiful 194
33 Micromaster Bargaining 197
34 Hone a Kitchen Knife So That It Is Razor Sharp 200
35 Lead a Small Group in the Wilderness 203
36 Learn to Read Japanese in Three Hours 206
37 Become a Street Photographer 208
38 Brew Delicious Craft Beer 211
39 Make Your Own Shirt 214
Micromaster Your Life 217
Permission to Be Interested 219
Your Many Selves 223
Punk Micromastery 230
Micromastery vs Global Pessimism 233
The BIG, BIGGER, BIGGEST Picture 238