To try is to probably fail.
And failure, at a certain age, is not a good look. We’re supposed to have our hobbies, careers, and relationships figured out. We're supposed to pick our path and ascend, stopping regularly for promotions, marriage, and kids.
When I say try here I’m not talking about effort level. We all try hard given the right incentive. I’m talking about trying something new. Trying something that your friends wouldn’t understand. Trying something that’s hard now and might still withhold its reward later.
What stops us from trying this more often?
Inertia surely does its part. Once enough of our time and energy has been put in one basket, it feels like turning around would cause more trouble than it’s worth, disrupt the peace and comfort we’ve grown accustomed to. It’s always easier to keep the steady paycheck, stay with the person who owns half of your furniture, or say no to the extra expense of a class that would require admitting we’re not exactly happy with how we currently spend our time. That doesn’t mean we don’t know that quitting, jilting, or paying up is the right move.
On most days, choosing to stay the course is chalked up to being tired, a time-honored excuse for opting out of anything, but I contend that the looming possibility of failure is the biggest factor in what stops most of these efforts, from the weight of matrimony to the frivolity of improv, before they’ve even started. Consider the headline when losing a job or ending a relationship. There's never a going-away party with a highlight reel recognizing the good times. It's a zero-sum game that's been lost. That sticks with you.
Trying something new is uncomfortable and time-consuming and exposes you to judgment based on the results. You’ve already sunk a whole lot of time into appearing to be a competent adult at your job and in your relationships or as the head of your family. If you’re seen stumbling in other regards, even if it’s to ultimately better yourself, could that jeopardize your standing in these places? Should it matter?
Most people would say you’re brave for trying something new, that you’re confident for taking a dance class knowing you’ll be stepping on a lot of toes. Most people also live outside your head, and your inner voice is loud, critical, and risk averse. One day, though, so we’ve all been told, we’ll look back and wonder what we could have done if we’d tuned out that voice and strung a few more of those hours or days or months together in service of the riskier propositions we kept putting off. Not the extra hours we could have spent trying to get rich or further along the path we’re already on. The hours spent painting portraits of friends’ pets or strumming a guitar or just listening to yourself about what you wanted to be doing all along.
What have you wanted to be doing all along?