
Image from cambodia4kidsorg @ Flickr
What do you get for your time, effort, money and emotion spent on doing something different?
Return on investment (R.O.I.) started out as a financial ratio used by accountants and business managers. It’s a way of describing what you get in return for the money that you’ve invested in something. Now R.O.I. is used to refer to almost anything where you expend time, effort and money.
So here’s a question: what are you going to get from your contribution of blood, sweat and tears to your work, especially if it’s not part of your job? What’s your avocational R.O.I.?
Whatever you think it is, there’s plenty of work involved
“Things are made slowly and in pain,” to paraphrase a quote from Hugh MacLeod. The pain comes not just from sustained physical effort, but from sustained mental and emotional effort.
Consider the following:
The researcher Anders Ericsson studied violinists and determined that there was a threshold of 10,000 hours of musical experience (mainly practice) which was required to become a master of the violin. This threshold has been touted as a more general rule by Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers – you need to log 10,000 hours of solid practice to be a master in any discipline.
Geoff Colvin extrapolates this further in his book Talent Is Overrated to say that mindful, sustained practice (deliberate practice) and effective feedback and coaching are also the keys to developing great talent. And this practice, by definition, is not fun. It’s meant to be hard work.
There’s mastery and then there’s… less than mastery
So if you want to be the best in the world, do you need to lock yourself away for ten years? At least ten years, especially if you want to be a violinist, a grand master chess player, and so on, where you have a huge talent pool to compete against and lots to learn. On the other hand, if you’ve invented a new sport, game or skill and you’re the only one who does it, you’re the master by default. Then you only have to worry about competition when the world finds out about it.
Do you really have to master any creative skill? Excellent question. It depends, of course, on how integral that skill is to your economic and emotional well-being. In many cases, if you don’t have the chops, you don’t get the bucks. On the other hand, some of the richest performers, athletes or professionals (or more most famous or happiest, for that matter) are not masters of a particular skill. But they are good enough and they have enough skills and support to get them where they want to be.
On the other hand, there are things likes title, prestige and respect that you don’t get unless you demonstrate an acceptable level of skill, knowledge and dedication to. These things are important to a lot of people.
When are you too old to start?
Here’s another thing to think about, though: is there a point at which it’s too late to start something new? Is there a point at which it doesn’t make sense to reach for the stars?
For example, if I suddenly decided I wanted to become a dentist, is it too late for me to do that?
[I don't really want to become a dentist - it's just an example.]
In my case, I’m a forty-something year old man with a family to support and other obligations. Is a career in dentistry a non-starter for me, as they say? That depends. It’s not impossible BUT I can’t do it without reinventing my life and status quo and that involves more people than me. And the thing about dentistry is that it’s something that you can’t partially do… you either do it and go all the way or else you waste a lot of time, effort and money.
So, no dentistry school for me. The ROI, in this case, is not worth the cost to me. Your teeth can relax now.
On the other hand…
Novice of the martial arts
I’m not exactly sure how it happened but I’ve been taking Kung Fu lessons for close to two months. My son started taking lessons and after watching a few classes I felt this desire to try it. Quite often this is how I introduce change into my life: spur-of-the-moment. So I did.
We’re just learning basic moves like stances, kicks, punches and blocks at this point. We don’t spar. Many of us are novices. It’s been a powerful example of how physically unprepared I was for this kind of exercise. But slowly it’s getting better. Some parts at least.
But here’s the thing about the martial arts: many of them have a grading or ranking system. You can improve over time and get tested to see if you’ve learned enough to demonstrate accomplishment. In Kung Fu (my school, at least) you get a different colored sash each time you pass tests. The highest level in my school is a black sash. And then maybe you turn into Bruce Lee after a few more decades, not sure about that.
I’m a long, long, long way from getting a black sash. And even that’s not the end, really, but it’s a clearly marked milestone. Does it take 10,000 hours of practice to get a black sash? I don’t know. It probably takes a significant percentage of that time, though. Did I start too late? Maybe not, but it may be a lot easier to do at a younger age.
So here lies the question: is it worth the blood, sweat and tears for me to work towards a black sash in Kung Fu (assuming that I even want to)? And if I don’t have that long term goal, should I even bother learning Kung Fu?
The journey to mastery is different that arriving at the destination
To measure the “return on investment” for a personal development goal, you really need to measure several things:
1. The blood, sweat and tears that you contributed to it (plus money, time, stress, etc.)
2. The value of achieving your goal
and
3. The value of the experience (which is separate from the goal itself)
When you know these things, you could attempt to make some kind of calculation of the return on your investment.
It’s natural to fixate on 2. (the value of achieving the goal) and 1. (how much it hurts and costs).
It’s probably better to focus on 3. (the value of the experience) Because even if you don’t get to the final goal, you’ll be better off than you were before you started (unless you do something silly like crushing your toes while you practice your kicks incorrectly – which is something that I will probably wind up doing).
So on balance, it’s better to try and fail than not to try, as long as you make an honest effort. Maybe I only make it to, say, the green sash (which I think is halfway between absolute beginner and black sash) and then I decide that I want to try ski-boxing or cross-country wrestling instead. That’s still good.
But…
But this isn’t just about Kung Fu.
It’s really about words.
The sashes of writing
My creative black sash is completing a damned good manuscript and getting it published in book form. And then repeating.
Things aren’t going the way that I would like them to be going in that department. To be blunt, there’s kind of a huge chasm of a disconnect between my goal and my actions. But there could be another factor at play here. My approach to this goal may be more like the novice trying to pass the tests for the black sash without earning other sashes first. So maybe I need to look at earning the other sashes first through writing smaller pieces and building up skills. You might say I’m at that state of conscious incompetence (i.e. I have a good idea about where and how I suck at writing – and, fortunately, what I’m good at, too).
I might also be a wee bit daunted, even scared, by how big the task is. And I have to ask that nagging question: what’s the R.O.I.? What’s it worth to me?
Maybe you feel the same way about something you want to do – I don’t know. And, like me, you probably want answers. But I don’t think the answers are going to come unless we actually do that thing. And hence some benefits will start to accrue, if only we get started.
So this is me trying to kick my own ass into gear, even if it’s only at a snail’s pace.
Final thoughts
I’ve been sitting on this post for weeks as I’ve tried to put this… thing… into words.
This is not my best post but it gives you some insight into what’s going on in my brain and why I haven’t been publishing much lately over the past few months. Kind of like a snake trying to digest an elephant.