Our Talents Are Invisible To Us
Before we talk about finding our talent, let’s talk about one of my favourite things: clothes.
About two weeks ago, I ran out of the door with an old black coat because I was late for coffee with a friend. When I rushed into the café my friend stopped me and said: “Nice coat! Is it new?”
The paradox of defining our style is that one day what we wear will become invisible to us, but dazzling to others. What seemed like a last choice to me could be a novel outfit to another.
The same goes for finding our talent. When we’re using our talent in real-time, just like the old black coat, it rarely feels exciting.
But when we see someone else wielding their talent, it always seems extraordinary and enticing as we secretly wish that we could have what they have.
This wish process sets off a perpetual lust for new skills, new aesthetics, and new formats in our work. I should edit my videos like that! I should write in the voice of x and I should start a Substack!
Over time this process starts to sound awful a lot like consumerism. We’re always after the cool way to do our work without realizing that, just like clothes, new doesn’t necessarily mean right for us.
So, if we want to identify what we’re good at, we have to return to the things we do unconsciously but choose to ignore because it’s not as cool as how other people do things.
Here’s an example from my professional life. When I started YouTube, I did all of my videos in one take. No jump cuts, no special effects and no on-screen graphics. Just a talking head and some interesting ideas.
But three years into my career, I got distracted by the fancy cinematography, impressive editing and floating graphics all the other creators were using to get more engagement.
I spent hundreds of hours perfecting a presentation style I wasn’t particularly good at. And the worst part of this whole thing? I slowly started to resent making videos because I was trying so hard to perfect something I hated: video editing.
A week ago, I said: fuck it, I’m not going to edit my upcoming video. It was nerve-wracking. I felt completely vulnerable but at the same time, a familiar taste of freedom returned to me.
The video ended up toping all my other videos in performance though it took very little time to make. That’s when I learned a crucial lesson: doing good work is not all about effort but playing to your strengths.
Sometimes we ignore our strengths out of guilt because we don’t feel like we deserve effortless returns. But what I realized was that playing to our strengths doesn’t negate effort but clarifies where our effort should go. It shows us the pathway to go from good to great.
For example, the great jazz musician John Coltrane was certainly talented at playing the saxophone but he still practised obsessively, sometimes spending over 10 hours perfecting a single note.
This is a beautiful sight: being so in love with our special blend of strengths and weaknesses that we completely disappear into goals only we can see and skills only we can perfect.
So, relax into your strength and permit yourself to perfect your idiosyncrasies. Because one day, if we are lucky, our talent will merge with us as we make our marks as forces of nature.
Until Next Week
Robin
