The Art of Mastery: A Lesson in Excellence
The Pottery Class Principle: Embracing iteration and failure over perfection
Welcome to The Art of Becoming, a newsletter about finding value in adversity and embracing discomfort. Each week, I share an idea you can use in your life and business to find fulfillment and be more resilient and joyful.
And it starts with you and me embracing discomfort.
I hope you join me.
At a glance
A master potter teaches his class that mastery comes from practice, embracing failure, and persistent improvement.
A perfection-focused approach kills progress, whereas a quantity-driven method builds skill development and leads to a more successful outcome.
Embracing iterative and quantitative learning maximizes opportunities and expands your luck surface area.
On the first day of class, a pottery teacher tried to explain the journey to becoming a master potter.
“Perfection isn’t the pursuit,” he stated. “Mastery lies in the art of practice.”
His students did not understand, so he divided the class into two groups.
The first group was tasked with crafting a single, flawless clay pot throughout the semester. Their entire grade will be based on one piece.
Meanwhile, the other group was told they would be graded on sheer volume, with little to no emphasis given on the quality of their work.
By the end of the semester, the results for both groups were telling.
The first group, fixated on creating the perfect pot, struggled. Many pots were distorted and warped, and the rims were jagged and uneven. Some students displayed pots with smooth, even walls, but these fell short of being called good.
Overall, the students from the first group were indifferent to creating a quality product. They didn’t seem to care.
The second group was different. A testament to the assignment, hundreds of pots were laid out. The students displayed the pots in order, from the first ones they made to the last. These had more pots than the first class but were made better.
Despite emphasizing volume rather than perfection, these pots exhibited craftsmanship and refinement not seen in the first group. Many of the pots made towards the end of the semester had well-proportioned shapes with even walls. The surfaces were smooth and free from significant imperfections. The master potter thought few pots could have been considered the work of a master.
The second group cared about their work. While not flawless, these pots demonstrated a commendable level of skill and progress, reflecting the group's commitment to practice and iteration. They cared about their work.
The Pottery Class Principle underscores that practice leads to quality. Seek a multitude of ideas or opportunities rather than one perfect idea.
Stop being obsessed with perfection. It will kill all progress. There will be exceptions, but they are the one-hit wonders. Even Michael Jordon and Kobe Bryant didn’t rely on their natural-born talent. They put in the work.
You need to generate a lot of ideas before you become a success. Stephen Pressfield wrote for 27 years before he published his first book, Bagger Vance. Vincent Van Gogh completed most of his paintings in two years. Stephen King said that if you want to be a good writer, you must do two things, above all others: read a lot and write a lot. Picasso was estimated to have produced about 147,800 pieces of art.
Maybe the second group of students was lucky. Maybe there were a few prodigies.
From my experience, good luck happens when you deliberately expand your luck surface area. In other words, you become luckier by making more pots, talking to more customers, writing and posting, painting more, or doing more deals.
Whereas talent only takes you so far. Hard work and practice trump natural-born talent.
Your work will probably suck your first 10 to 100 attempts. My first post was horrible and 3000 words too long (you can find it here). But the more often you write and share, fire up a pot, and paint, the better you will become.
Maybe you’ll never be a bestselling author, the best salesperson at work, or a master potter. But you’ll never know what you can do if you’re sitting on your couch wondering and wishing.
On the last day of class, the master potter shared one last piece of wisdom with his students:
“Like most things, pottery making takes minutes to learn but a lifetime to master.
That doesn’t mean you won’t produce perfection every so often. It just might take a thousand failures until you do.
But that’s okay. What greater gift is there than bringing beauty to the world? Never stop creating.”
Thanks for reading. I wish you a lifetime of creation.
Love to you and yours,
Michael