The Myth of the Training Montage

Whether you’re watching The Karate Kid, Mulan, or Rocky, the trope of the training montage is designed to show characters getting good at something quickly.

This is a problem because these montages, from classic movies which we’re all likely to have seen, teach us that real-life success is supposed to come as quickly as it does in the movies. When it inevitably doesn’t, it can be discouraging, as is often the case when we’re taught to expect one thing and something else happens instead.

These movies also fail our expectations when they show training to be an exciting event. Training is probably going to be boring, and it’s definitely going to be hard.

Good.

No one is cheering you on when you’re learning HTML at night after a full day of work.

No one is there to pick you up when you stumble during a practice drill that’s lit by moonlight.

No one is there when you’re combing through the 2000-page textbook trying to find the specific sub-section of the tax code you’re looking for.

When you finally build that app, or throw that game-winning pass, or get that Big Four job, those are the moments of glory, and they should be savoured. These are the peaks of life, and they are separated by incredibly long valleys.

The valleys aren’t meant to be “troughs”—they’re not bad, they’re just necessary. Most of your life will probably be spent becoming good at something. You might not be passionate about that thing for the first few weeks or months, but you keep at it. You know your work in the valleys will pay off.

So enjoy the challenge, and await the mountains.

                                                                                                                                       

Hey, thanks for reading. This post was inspired by this Zen Pencils comic and a conversation with a good friend. Sorry if this post isn’t as good as the others, but the idea of enjoying the process felt like it was an idea worth sharing (and TED hasn’t asked me to do a talk yet). Besides that, I have 2-3 other posts that went unpublished and I didn’t want to make a habit out of it. Anyway, constructive criticism appreciated. 

The Consequences of Limiting Yourself

I always thought I was clumsy. When I was a kid, I would always spill things or drop cups; it was never on purpose, but all of these actions proved to me that I should be extra careful when handling anything. It also taught me that there were some things I just shouldn’t pick up.

This belief did some incredible harm when my cousin was born. Like all babies born into loving families, she was held constantly.

For as long as she was a baby, I never once held my cousin. I couldn’t bring myself to hold her out of fear that something terrible might happen.

My cousin is six now and I can see how she is not as close to me as she is to those who held her. I see it every time her parents have to tell her to give cousin Jeremy a hug instead of her running to do so like she does with other relatives.

This is, perhaps, a blessing in disguise since it has shown me how babies bond and extend love to even peripheral family members. But this silver lining wouldn’t have been necessary if I had just realized my limiting belief.

Self-limiting beliefs give us the excuse not to get better. By saying you’re “not a math person”, yes, you’re probably protected from ever having to do math again, but you’re also denied the opportunities that come from being good with numbers.

Like many things, it comes down to cost-benefit. The benefit of my believing in clumsiness may have been a few spills that didn’t need cleaning and glasses that didn’t get broken.

But it came at a cost that will never be worth it.

Editor’s note: I’ve missed you. I’m sorry if this post isn’t as good as the other ones might have been (keyword there is might). It’s tough getting back into form and I appreciate all of you who have stuck with me. If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

Why you should build your business to kill Superman.

How do you take down a competitor who seems unbeatable? Who can do no wrong and who has dominated the landscape for decades?

I found myself asking this question as I took an entrepreneurship course to cap off this year. The most valuable take-away was that Plan B is much better than Plan A. Plan B is not a contingency, but a progression. Creating a better Plan B demands that you ask how you can take the failed Plan A and apply whatever merit it had to a new situation.

It might be tough to imagine Plan B being better than Plan A. To imagine how it is, we turn to the world of Superman.

Thousands of before Superman was born on the planet Krypton, there lived there a mad scientist. He was obsessed, as mad scientists often are, with creating the ultimate weapon. The scientist created a child who he would throw into Krypton’s unforgiving wilderness to be killed. He would then harvest the cells of the corpse and clone a new entity, which was immune to whatever had previously killed it. Surviving longer and longer, this creature grew up to become immensely strong. Before it exacted revenge on its creator, he was named Doomsday.

He wasn't built to look good.

Fast-forward a few thousand years and Doomsday was fighting Superman. Doomsday hit Superman harder than anyone or anything ever had. Keep in mind, Superman has gone toe-to-toe with gods before and lived to talk about it. Something else to consider is that Doomsday didn’t go after Superman’s well-known weakness of kryptonite.  He just hit him really hard, a lot. Superman took down Doomsday, at the cost of his own life. Sorry if you were rooting for him.

Imagine Superman as Microsoft and Doomsday as Apple when they were starting out. How do you take down a competitor who seems unbeatable?  You test every assumption and every plan until you become great, and then you keep going. You test each assumption in small enough steps that you’re certain your new product will be better. If you exhaust your idea, you find a new way to apply it.

It took the guys behind Pay Pal six iterations from Plan A to  create what eventually became Pay Pal. It took that scientist hundreds of iterations to build the ultimate weapon. It took Apple 30 years to become dominant and they still haven’t decisively won.

So go on and plan, iterate, and grow. Someday, you can kill Superman too.

Editor’s Note: I am a huge fan of Superman and would very much not like for him to be killed again. If you have a topic idea, I'd love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

The productivity benefits of keeping peanut butter at your desk.

Everyone is always looking for the next great productivity boost, but I bet nobody has ever considered the productivity benefits of keeping peanut butter at their desk.

To my knowledge, there are no benefits. In fact, many workplaces would probably forbid this because of nut allergies.

One of the things people caught up in a business or leadership culture often get bombarded with are “productivity hacks”, which are simply ways you can be more productive.

To be fair, some of these are great. Taking breaks every hour by going for a walk or doing another light physical activity is scientifically backed.

The vast majority of these hints are sourced from successful entrepreneurs/leaders/people. These tips work for them. They may not work for you.

For example, there are apparently people who get by on a series of 20-minute naps throughout the day to a total of four hours. I once asked a somnologist, a sleep doctor, if this would be possible to do. Once she stopped laughing, she said absolutely not. But if you somehow tried it and it somehow did, then sleep doctors and evolution be damned.

By all means, research ways to get better. Do not let the success other people have with their methods deter you from finding and using your own. Do not let their methods discourage you from doing your work. Other people might read faster or calculate more quickly, but that doesn’t mean your efforts count for nothing.

You accomplish the same goal in a different way. However you get there, it’s still called success.

P.S. This is my 20^th blog post, and you may have noticed that the format of my title has changed. This is because I’m working on creating more compelling headlines, which is part of being a better blogger. As you also may have noticed, I’ve begun to post much less frequently. There’s been a shortage of material lately, and if it doesn’t inspire me, I wouldn’t want to try and force the feeling on you just to meet a weekly quota.

I would never have come this far without readers who inspire me by sharing their stories as I share mine. The fact that I’ve been able to entertain, and dare I say even help some of you, is an honour and a privilege I take seriously. So, whether this is your first visit or you’ve been with me from the start, thanks for reading, and C-Suite Dreams!

Editor’s note: If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

Progress is Possible, or, How I came to love numbers.

My last post on potential got some pretty solid traction; everyone loved reading about what was, for all intents and purposes, an epiphany.

Except for one of my best friends. The message I received from him was “Stop writing blog posts, go back to do doing math!”

My friend knew that my New Year’s Resolution was to stop being afraid of math, specifically data. I came up with this particular promise because I finally realized, after more or less a lifetime of running from them, that numbers were and are an essential part of being in advertising, or in marketing, or in running a start-up. These are all things I hope to do.

I could keep running. Or I could stand and fight.

For a while, I was somewhere in-between. Reading and writing about math isn’t the same as doing it. The only one you fool in the end is yourself.

I started using math in real life. The most meaningful example of this came when I was riding the bus with a friend in the morning and she couldn’t decide whether to get off to get a coffee. 

See, the bus driver always got off at a particular stop for a break, but sometimes he only went to the washroom. If she went to get a coffee while he went to the bathroom, there’s a high chance she’d be late for school. Then again, if she didn’t get a coffee, she’d get to school on time but she wouldn’t be as productive. 

The best option can be calculated using something called a Decision Tree, which you can find below:

$25,000 is approximately the tuition we pay. The cost of time is calculated as the length of a class; if you are late to class, it is highly unlikely you will get marks for participation, which I have taken here to be lost productivity. If you're curious, the textbook on the right is about operations, and is completely unrelated.

The idea is that you multiply the probability of something occurring by the benefit you’re expected to gain or the loss you’re expected to incur. Based on this concept, which is called “expected value”, I figured out that my friend should get a coffee.

It took me 15 minutes to do this, and I did it because I was bored in another class. Phrased differently, you might even say that I did math for fun.

It’s important to not exaggerate the progress this represents. This mostly comes down to simple multiplication and organizing options logically.

And yet, the impact was tremendous. We just had an exam with plenty of numbers, and for the first time, I didn’t shy away from them; I produced three or four pages of numbers that I was confident in. When the professor later revealed that most of the rest of the course would be qualitatively focused, I was sad. This from the guy whose pulse used to be regulated every time a prof said “qualitative is just as important”.

Now, I’m excited to do numbers. Numbers imbue a type of certainty to things, a way to know their feasibility. Of course, it’s important to remember that this type of certainty is contextual, and it’s important to remember that some things are simply not quantifiable. Sometimes, we should take risks despite the numbers, and other times, we should ignore opportunities that seem like numerical certainties.

Progress is possible if you apply lessons in ways that are relevant to you. For the first time, it seems like I’m close to understanding numbers. The value of this is probably quantifiable, but is priceless in my eyes. 

Editor’s Note: Yes, I am uncannily lucky in finding inspiration on public transit. If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

Potential Isn’t Practical, or, Why you seriously need to stop comparing yourself to others.

It was 11 at night and I was at school. A good friend, one year younger, walked in and we got to talking. He told me about One Young World, an incredible opportunity to meet world-changers and influencers from across the globe.

I was already aware of this organization. I had consciously decided against applying because when I stacked my resume against those of people who were selected, I wasn’t even close to being in their league.

My friend, much wiser than his age would dictate, told me that the organization places great value on the potential to make change. And he told me I had that potential, and that I should apply.

My first action was to thank him for these kind words. My second, third, fourth, and fifth actions were to raise reasons why I wouldn’t even bother applying. All of these were variations of the phrase “I’m not good enough.”

But if the whole process is based on potential, which even I think I have, then why wouldn’t I take a shot?

And it dawned on me that, somewhere along the way, I had managed to convince myself I wasn’t good enough. I might be good in my little bubble, where I know most people and can woo a crowd when I need too. But I’m a little nervous when we move a few steps beyond that level. And I believe I’m simply not good enough when we move to the level of, y’unno, doing important, positive work.

It wasn’t the big failures that drove me to this state of mind but the little ones. Failing to keep up small habits. Failing at things I had done dozens of times before. Failing to take control when doing so could have made all the difference.

Somewhere between all of these little trials, I started to believe I wasn’t good enough. I know it because my dream started to change.

Since I was 14, I have wanted to be the Prime Minister of Canada. We’re a great country with so much potential, if only we could realize how great we could be.

How could I have the audacity to dream of doing something so powerful as leading a nation when I couldn’t even manage to cook an egg properly, or catch the bus on time, or get a single case in class correct (and yes, there were days when all three of these happened).

No, I couldn’t lead. I couldn’t even think of doing it. The country deserved better.

So I pulled back my ambitions. I would have a successful career. I would have many great friends and hopefully a special someone. I’d be okay. In fact, I’d live what might be considered a textbook definition of a good life.

And yet, there was still that tiny whisper inside me, spoken by a voice somehow not silenced.

That voice demands more.

I don’t know if I can provide that “more”, that need to do something positive. I listen to this voice because it makes me feel like I haven’t given up. This feeling is cold comfort when you haven’t actually done anything to prove you haven’t given up on being something spectacular.

Now being the good people you are (thanks again for reading!) you’re probably thinking about the time I wrote about comparing yourself and how it serves no purpose but to make you feel bad.

But through this pep talk, I’ve discovered that it can do something even worse: comparing yourself can make you limit yourself. It makes you focus on what you can do, not on what you could do.

Comparing yourself makes you, or at least made me, think in a way that might be called practical.

Potential isn’t practical. If we measured potential by what was to our knowledge possible, then I sincerely doubt I’d be typing this right now. Literally, the keyboard, computer monitor, and Internet would probably not have been invented.

I know these blogs usually end with some degree of lesson learned or mission accomplished or, on occasion, an almost funny joke. I don’t have one for you this time. I have a story that has yet to be concluded.

I have the knowledge that I’ve been limiting myself. I have the annoyance/blessing/pain of an internal voice that demands more from me. I have the guilt of almost shooting down someone who had the courage to have faith in me.

All of that moaning being released, I’m going to apply to the conference. Because I have nothing to lose, sure. But also because someone sees something in me that I used to. If I don’t get chosen, that faith will not diminish. If I do get chosen, I don’t think it will restore the confidence I used to have, though it will probably help.

But if I don’t take control, then nothing will change. Things will only be okay. And now, finally, the little voice inside isn’t the only part of that can’t accept this.

Editor’s note: If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

 

General resolves, or, How I will make 2014 awesome.

2013 was, in a nutshell, alright.

I made dozens of new friends. I learned to cook. I started writing a blog, and I believe I became a better writer.

I was more stressed than I’d ever been before. I was always afraid of failure. I spent so many nights either apathetic to my work or praying for miracles. I never missed a deadline, but I never quite did my best. I still did well, because producing under pressure is a by-product of being a “good” procrastinator. I still felt guilty, because that is the primary symptom of all procrastinators.

It felt great to beat the odds, even if I couldn’t beat the demon that was the fear of failure.

There’s nothing I’d love more than to make a sweeping declaration, here and now, that I would never again let that fear hold me back. It would make me feel good and impart to all of you the hope that I believe you’ve come to expect from this blog. The hope that we can all be better.

Yes, we can all be better. That part is true.

But it starts with a belief. More than any quotation, any philosophy, anything at all, it starts with one belief: it’s the belief that you are in control.

There is something alluring about the belief that we are not in control. The belief that I need to be in the mood to work or have the right circumstances to produce. The problem is that, for me, this mood or these circumstances always rose up as the clock counted down.

No more.

Here’s the deal I’m going to propose to you. I’m going to spend one year taking full responsibility. I might still fear failure. But I refuse to let it hold me back anymore.

No more “doing my best, given the circumstances” when I  am the one who brought those circumstances about.

No more “being busy”. Busyness is an excuse. “Oh, why couldn’t you read that paper to know what’s actually happening in the world?” You weren’t busy, you were lazy, and to the point above, you chose not to read it. Being legitimately busy is one thing. Using it as an excuse is quite another.

I have resolutions, which I’ll share next time. If you’re making goals, remember to write them down and to structure them. If you’re so inclined, post them in the comments as a public commitment, and check back in a year to post an update.

Let’s make 2014 awesome. Let’s do it together.

                                                                                                                                       

As an aside, I wanted to say how thankful I am that you took the time to read this post and all the others. I didn’t start blogging to help people, but I continued because I did. What I didn’t expect was to open up as much as I did, and for the blogs to hold me to account as much as they did.

Thank you for reading. Thank your for inspiring me to be better. Have a happy and safe December 31^st, and until next time, C-Suite Dreams!

Editor’s note: If you understand the reference in my title, you’re wonderful. If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.