My Life Is One Continuous Mistake, and Yours Can Be, Too!

From running, to work, to sitting quietly — the key is single-minded effort

You are probably sick of hearing that making mistakes is good for you. The Edison quote about a thousand wrong ways to make a lightbulb is only helpful because Edison actually did make a lightbulb. If he hadn’t, would those attempts have been a colossal waste of time? Did you ever hear about that guy who spent 10,000 hours trying to create a car that runs on cold-pressed avocado skins? Of course not. Because he didn’t succeed.

But, what if success is actually a terrible measure of… well, success?

Each season of running training has its focus for me. With limited time, I cut out each season for different disciplines. Two years ago I spent a few seasons devoted to aerobic threshold. It was almost a year on just distance — getting my legs to last. I ran barefoot a lot to slow me down and force my heart rate into the lower zones.

After that long block, I wanted to gain back some of the speed I felt like I lost. So, I joined a local running club. I bought new road shoes to replace an old pair that had inevitably worn unevenly. I pushed too hard a few times and dealt with some minor injuries — all expected things. I have no background in speed, so getting my body to move in the 5- and 6-minute-mile range is much more taxing than a 30-mile trot.

But, there was one thing that helped me the most as I pushed into new territory. One idea that helped me keep pace more than any amount of training or piece of gear I could buy:

One continuous mistake. In Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, it’s called shoshaku jushaku — to succeed wrong with wrong. This can also be called “single-minded effort.”

Essentially, when something doesn’t feel right, the answer is to keep going. It is when you are the worst at something (or at least perceive yourself to be) that you do the best. It is not about good or bad, success or failure. It is about trying.

It only took a few days of teaching High School English to realize I was way out of my depth. Desperate for direction, I started drilling my administrator (also a close friend) with questions. I asked how a certain long-time teacher kept getting Teacher of the Year. What was she doing? What was her secret? His response: “She doesn’t think she’s a good teacher.” If you think you suck at something, then your goal every day is not greatness, but to simply be better than yesterday.

Inevitably, greatness comes.

I stop too often because I think I am doing something wrong. I stop too often because I second guess whether this is “good” or “bad.” Am I wasting time? Should I be doing something different? If I am doing it “wrong” should I continue?

Running is one of the truest expressions of single-minded effort, I think. It’s hard to run wrong. I’m sure personal trainers will disagree with that. But, as long as you can wake up and run again the next day over and over, you’re probably not running wrong. This is what makes it so appealing. This is also how I work through the pain of pushing myself.

The fraying ends of thought plague all my other activities. I am working, but would rather play with my kids. I am writing, but I also need to send that invoice. I am answering emails but then remember that article I was going to write for Medium about shoskaku. I am writing an article but, wait, maybe my website should have more neutral colors.

Running is the only way for me to ignore those frayed edges. Mainly because they are unavailable. You simply run. On and On. You don’t stop to think or weigh options. You move forward with only the thought of moving forward.

I admit, applying this to the rest of life gets tricky. There are some places where single-minded effort seems like a liability. It’s not conducive to many of the job descriptions I see on LinkedIn. I am probably not going to use it as a selling point in my next job interview. Or should I?

In reality, Suzuki was talking about meditation. He wasn’t talking about building a business. He’s saying that when it sucks, sit in mindfulness. When it’s going well, sit in mindfulness. When you are confused, hurting, hiding, or dying, sit in the single-minded effort of being in your body. That is what meditation is. And you are neither able to be good nor bad at it. You are able to do it — that is the marrow of life. The marrow of running is just running itself. The marrow of life is that you are alive. Do what you want in it, but don’t overcomplicate it. Don’t run around yelling good and bad and fighting and squeezing yourself for every last drop of inspiration and effort.

So, here’s the quick of it: Existence. Being in time. This will suffice. All that we do is practice for the next moment. Whether that is a mistake or exactly what we should be doing (perhaps the mistake is exactly what we should be doing), is all irrelevant.

“The awareness that you are here, right now, is the ultimate fact.” — Shunryu Suzuki

Taking each moment as the next moment in which existence continues is all you need. It’s as simple, yet difficult, as that next step.

That’s how I understand a difficult race or training run. It’s that next step. It’s that one long continuous movement that carries me, whether through pain or joy, to the finish line.

So how does this change my race strategy? My life strategy? I can stop and wring my hands that I went out too quickly. I can sit in the shade and question my abilities. Or, I can accept that those may be true or may not, but that it does not affect my next step. With one continuous effort, I will always have a next step.