The Two Sides of ‘The Dip’
This is not what the host of the workshop expected me to say
With every minute, my friend’s expression grew increasingly perplexed, even though he was the one who asked me to give a talk about ‘The Dip’ (by Seth Godin) in his business workshop.
He came to me afterwards (having read the book himself) saying he didn’t realise two people can read the same book and get an entirely different message from it. I guess that’s just how we are, each with our unique voice, style, and way of looking at the world.
We spent the next few hours drinking coffee, chatting, and sharing our interpretations and unique perspectives of what Seth was trying to say when he wrote the book.
My friend reflected on the message in a more simple, no-nonsense kind of way. Meaning that we have to fight for the important things we want in our life. And that the system (the steep climb) is in place for a reason; if it were easy for everyone to become a doctor, there would be a much larger pool of mildly-dedicated, incompetent ‘doctors’ working for a much lower salary, making a lot more mistakes — playing Russian roulette with our life. The system exists to sort the “I am’s” from the ‘“I wanna be’s” and to force the latter to quit.
I, on the other hand, delved a little deeper, looking at the psychology of the process, of the ups and downs, and the sacrifices, then bringing it back into a practical application with examples from my own life.
I reflected on the fact that unless you submit yourself to the hardship associated with pursuing a certain goal, you won’t truly know how committed you are to achieving it. And if it’s not worth struggling for, it probably isn’t for you, and, in the case of a professional pursuit, you’ll probably never reach the level of mastery that will properly benefit others.
Sometimes, self-awareness is not enough; you need to experience doing something in order to find out whether you actually enjoy it, whether you see yourself excelling at it. I once (a long time ago) enrolled in a merchandising course. Being a creative person, I thoroughly enjoyed the first couple of months researching design concepts, exploring famous artists, and talking about all things creative.
Then came the hands-on, real-world experience — the college sent us to a department store to do what a merchandiser does on a daily basis. The work experience was supposed to last for a week. After a whole day of replacing sales tickets, fluffing up bedspreads and dressing mannequins, I quit. Not just the work experience, I quit the course. I hated it! There was no way I was going to put myself through that again.
I guess this was the only way for me to realise this wasn’t for me — through experience. I had dreamt up ideas of what it would be like to be a merchandiser, sitting in a beautifully decorated office with inspiring pictures, words, and themed objects, thinking up ideas for store fitouts. The reality looked much different.
To finish my story — my friend and I continued our conversation, sharing and discovering little gold nuggets of information that we missed. All of this wisdom, hiding in plain sight, scattered between the words; this is exactly why we need each other. Our uniqueness opens up new perspectives for others. It allows them to see the world through our eyes — and vice versa.
Maybe if I only sat down with an actual merchandiser before I decided to take a course, I might have been better informed of what it was really like.
Have you ever done something similar? Applied for a job thinking it would be something it wasn’t?
