Balls in the air
Steve Martin became great at many things—writing, magic, music, acting, comedy, juggling, just to name a few. His rapid rise to fame in the late 1970s brought memorable performances like “King Tut” on SNL and Navin R. Johnson’s rags-to-riches-to-rags journey in The Jerk. His catchphrases—“Well exxcuuuuse me!” and “We are two wild and crazy guys!”—were everywhere as the world entered the 1980s. I was right there watching and enjoying every bit of his zany brilliance.
You don’t have to study his life or be enamored with his career to learn something valuable—something that applies to anyone who wants a life marked by flourishing growth and sustainable momentum.
Last week I wrote about the idea of both a learning curve and an unlearning curve. The concept is simple: to move toward improvement and mastery, we must consistently practice disciplines that actually work while also letting go of the habits and patterns that clearly don’t—even if we’re still clinging to them. We need to learn new things and unlearn what no longer serves us.
Steve Martin’s career began in the early 1960s with a job at Disneyland. He played banjo and performed magic on the streets of the happiest place on earth, all while studying theatre and writing at a small college. He did this for more than a decade before he landed a writing job with the then-famous Smothers Brothers.
Here’s the point: Before he ever got that Disney job, what was he doing? He didn’t just show up in Anaheim answering a want-ad for someone who could play banjo, juggle, and perform sleight of hand on Main Street, U.S.A. No—he practiced. He practiced his banjo, he practiced his juggling, he practiced his magic. I don’t know how much, but I know it was frequent, focused, and fueled by a desire to become great enough to get noticed.
He practiced until he was competent.
He practiced until he was good.
He practiced until he was great.
He practiced until he got noticed.
And then—he never stopped practicing.
I don’t know what his motives were—wealth, fame, prestige. But whatever drove him, he understood that greatness requires disciplined, consistent practice, coaching, training, and rehearsal. And it paid off.
Now for us: What do you truly want to be great at?
Bring a disciplined approach to it. Start with one thing and practice it every day. When you prioritize what matters most, you live well—and you move through your days with peace and contentment oozing out of your pores.
Yes, there’s work to do. Hoping things improve is not a plan. Practicing what actually works—with focus and consistency—is the plan you must write and follow.
As this season winds down and the next begins, sit down and list the “balls” you have in the air: your personal life, your work life, your closest relationships. Choose one thing from each—one that you know is most important—and get to work on it. Create a disciplined plan.
What could you practice in your marriage in the coming season?
What could you practice in your parenting?
What could you practice in your inner life that frees you from guilt, shame, bitterness, and unforgiveness?
It’s easy to ask these questions about work—and you should—but the biggest areas, the ones requiring the greatest mastery, are marriage, family, and personal spiritual health (even for the irreligious—this isn’t about religion; it’s about unlearning what is killing your spirit and embracing what sets you free).
Here’s an example for married folks: a husband or wife realizes the marriage has been coasting in one or more areas. They say, This is my most important relationship on earth. And with the help of a coach, guide, or trusted friend, they choose one thing to do every single day—without exception—to move that relationship toward greatness. Then the next thing. Then the next.
What is that one thing?
Move it to the front.
Practice it daily—not weekly, not occasionally, but every. single. day. Start today.
Great marriages create optimal outcomes in parenting, career success, longevity, personal satisfaction—and people who are whole in their most important relationships bring a flourishing spirit into the workplace.
Friends, I know you have a lot of balls in the air. It can feel like learning to juggle while already standing on stage. But you’re not alone. You’re not being watched—you’re being invited deeper into a better way. It involves practice. Lots of it. As we practice, we learn; and as we learn, we move from competency to mastery.
I hope you’ll revisit last week’s post. I shared an invitation from my favorite Teacher of all time—an invitation that doesn’t exempt us from practicing and prioritizing the disciplined life, but promises that the help we need will meet us in the work itself.
The help we need in the work we’re called to do is the pathway to the flourishing we most deeply desire.
And yes—regarding your career—ask the same question: What areas, approached with disciplined, persistent, no-fail execution, would truly move the needle? Ask that too.
I would LOVE to hear what you’re committing to put into motion! Send me a note. And if you’d like to talk—especially if you feel stuck—I’d be honored to help.
Peace,
Craig
craig@r12coaching.com