The Ring Isn’t The Goal

What if the only thing standing between you and the life you want is your first attempt?

Not with the expectation that your first attempt would be great. Not with the expectation that you'd even finish it. What if you simply started?

The other day my son came to me and said he wanted to start making jewelry. He does a lot of blacksmithing and enjoys making things with his hands, so this wasn't completely out of left field. Then he pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of the ring he wanted to make.

It was beautiful.

It was intricate.

It was also way beyond anything he had ever made before.

My first thought wasn't, "There's no way." My first thought was, "How do I encourage him?" I didn't want him to lose momentum before he even got started.

We walked out to the garage and started looking through his tools. We talked about different metals, different techniques, and different ways he might approach it. Honestly, I was just buying time. I was trying to figure out how to make the impossible feel possible.

Then I heard myself say, "Here's what I would do..."

What I thought I was about to say was, "I'd make something really simple first."

But that's not what came out.

As I was saying the words, I realized what I would actually do.

Then I stopped with the encouraging dad speak and just told the truth.  I'd try to make that exact ring.

I told him I'd spend hours trying to make it look just like the picture. I'd get frustrated when it didn't. I'd probably ruin a piece of metal or two, convince myself it was photoshopped. Get pissed off and then throw the whole thing out and go find another shiny object.

The advice surprised me because, in that moment, I wasn't describing my son.

I was describing myself.

So I looked at him and said, "but here’s what a smart person would do. They would start out seeing if they could make a simple band. They’d try to make a circle. That's all. They wouldn’t fuss with all the details yet. They would make a simple ring."

The goal wasn't to make a beautiful ring that afternoon.

The goal was to become someone who could.

He said he’d look at some more pictures and try to find something more plain. I headed back inside and couldn’t help but start laughing because I realized I was doing the exact same thing.

I've been building an editorial system for my speaking business. Instead of publishing the first newsletter, I was trying to build the perfect newsletter. I was thinking about the perfect cadence, the perfect story, the perfect format, and the perfect system.

Then I walked back out to the garage and told him I owed him a deeper conversation and asked if he’d be willing to listen. Then I asked him what the goal was. He said to make a really cool ring. I asked what if the goal wasn’t the ring but the goal was to become the person that could make the really cool ring? He said he liked that. Then he said maybe the next thing he should do was just to try and make a band.

That was a pretty proud moment there. Then he said, I’ll just take a small step and see what happens.

I’m sure anybody can relate to this. We all do it.

We overprepare so we don’t have to deliver.

I think that's because we're chasing certainty. We want to know it's going to work before we ever begin. We want to know the business will succeed before we leave our job. We want to know the book will be good before we write the first chapter. We want to know the workout plan will work before we lace up our shoes.

We convince ourselves that if we can just think a little longer or prepare a little more, we'll eliminate the uncertainty. Then we don’t start until we feel like we’ve accomplished just that.

But we never do.

The problem is, certainty almost never comes first.

Experience does.

I think we all have a ring hanging in front of us.

Maybe yours isn't made of silver.

Maybe it's the business you've always wanted to start.

Maybe it's the fifty pounds you've wanted to lose.

Maybe it's the speech you've wanted to give.

Maybe it's the conversation you've been avoiding.

Whatever it is, you've built it up in your mind until the finished product feels so big that taking the first step almost seems pointless.

I had my own ring hanging in front of me.

Maybe you've had yours too.

We live in a world where we constantly see finished products. We see the successful business, the bestselling book, the incredible physique, the beautiful piece of art, or the polished keynote. We rarely see the hundreds of failed attempts that came first.

It’s a world of immediate gratification because we never see the struggle or the first attempts. We only see the polished ending.

Somewhere along the way, we started believing our first attempt should look like someone else's hundredth. The only challenge is that we never know it’s their hundredth. Hell, it could be their thousandth for all we know.

Why do intelligent, capable people behave this way? Why do they let analysis get in the way of progress?  I don’t think it’s laziness. I think it’s performance over learning. We get confused. We think everything we do has to be a performance and add value.

If we’re just turning out a plain band and not some elaborate ring, then there is no value there and we’re not good enough. We have to be providing real value all the time. Sometimes we forget how valuable we become when we learn and become more.

It doesn't work that way.

Our first job should be to learn. Then we can worry about performing.

No artist creates their best work the first time they pick up a brush.

No woodworker builds a masterpiece on the first day they walk into the shop.

No entrepreneur starts a business already knowing how to lead people, manage cash flow, sell, market, hire, and scale.

They become that person one imperfect attempt at a time.

Planning has value. I believe in planning. But you can spend weeks building the perfect plan and life will still refuse to cooperate. At some point the planning has done its job. The only thing left to do is take the next step.

Just take a step. Any step. It is physically impossible for the ground to not find you. It always finds you. I promise.

Getting frustrated isn't evidence that you're failing.

It's evidence that you're learning something you couldn't do yesterday.

That's a very different way to look at frustration.

So let me ask you a question.

What's your ring?

What have you built up in your mind that's become so perfect, so polished, and so intimidating that you haven't even started?

Maybe it's a business.

Maybe it's a book.

Maybe it's a conversation you've needed to have.

Maybe it's simply becoming healthier.

Whatever it is, stop trying to create the masterpiece today.

Just make the band.

Because the goal isn't the beautiful ring.

The goal is becoming the person who can make one.

I don’t know if Knox will make that exact ring. I hope he does but that’s not what I’m cheering for. I’m cheering when he walks back into that garage tomorrow and fires up his kiln and pulls out a hammer again. I’m rooting for him to become the kind of person that keeps walking back into that garage.

Because if he does, that ring will eventually take care of itself.

That’s exactly what I’m doing with this newsletter.

Let me see if I can just make a band…