Why I Focus on One or Two Things at a Time

I could pay someone to lift weights for me. His workout wouldn't make my muscles bigger. I could pay two people to wrestle in front of me, but that wouldn't teach me how to keep my balance on the mat. These are the examples I use in my video on focus because they make the limit clear: some of the work of becoming good at something has to belong to me.

That's why I choose a few pursuits and take them seriously. I can develop expertise in several areas over time. I can't give a hundred areas that same level of attention at once. Choosing what to leave alone is part of choosing what I want to do well.

Decide where a basic skill level is enough

I accept that my skills won't look the same in every area of my life. In some areas, I want an exceptionally high level of skill. In others, I'll accept a much lower level. Some things won't become part of my life at all.

“Anything I focus on I'll take it very seriously and do it very well.”

That commitment has a cost in time. If I say I'm going to take something seriously, I have to give it attention that I could have spent somewhere else. I can't keep adding major ambitions and assume they will all receive that attention.

I'd love to speak every language in the world. I could understand people wherever I went and communicate with them whenever I wanted. In the video, I describe that as a superpower. I also say clearly that I'm never going to do it. There isn't enough time.

Something can sit at number seventy on my to-do list without ever becoming a real pursuit. The list doesn't remove the limit. I have to accept that some appealing things won't happen so I can work seriously on the things I choose.

Delegate tasks while keeping responsibility for practice

In the video, I recommend delegating the things I can delegate. That still leaves a category of work that no one can do for me: the experience required to develop my own skills.

Watching wrestling and wrestling are different experiences. On the mat, I have to deal with someone putting pressure on me. I have to learn my own balance and how to put someone else off balance. Watching another person go through that process doesn't give me the same experience.

The weightlifting example works the same way. Paying for someone else's effort doesn't transfer the physical result to me. If I want that result, I have to participate in the process that produces it.

This makes focus practical. I need time for the work that requires my participation. I can involve other people where their work helps, but I still have to identify what requires my own practice. My discussion of choosing the people around me covers the relationship side of that decision.

Get better at the process of learning

I also talk about what changes after developing several skills. Once I've learned one thing at a high level and then another, I become more familiar with the process of learning itself. I've gone through it before.

“You can learn even faster over time.”

In that part of the conversation, I connect learning faster with accepting the process. I still have to participate. Knowing that practice is necessary doesn't let me skip it, but experience with learning can help me approach the next skill.

I can become an expert in a few things and develop more as I get older. That is different from trying to develop everything at the same time. The sequence matters: build a skill, understand what its development required, and bring that experience into another pursuit.

See the limits behind someone else's expertise

I'm open about things I don't do well because I don't want someone imagining that I'm great at everything. That comparison can create misery: a person sees his own weaknesses clearly, imagines someone else has none, and decides he doesn't measure up.

When I bring people into these conversations who have spent decades on a particular pursuit, their accounts include less-developed parts of their lives. They also have failures, setbacks, and public humiliations. Expertise in one area doesn't erase those experiences.

In the video, I use thirty-five years of focus as an example of the time someone can devote to one area. The point is the attention that went into that level of skill. Looking only at the result leaves out the years and the other things that person didn't develop to the same degree.

I want people to understand my limits in that same way. I can choose a few things and do them well. I still have areas where my skills remain basic and areas I won't pursue.

Expect setbacks and keep improving the work

To explain failure, I use building a rocket as an example. A first attempt going wrong doesn't automatically mean the person or the whole project is a failure. The next step can involve modifying the design.

I also acknowledge that I don't know the details of how all those systems work. This is an illustration of the standard a difficult task can demand, not a technical account of rocket engineering. Many parts have to work together; doing most of the job correctly may still leave something that doesn't function.

I connect that example to the effort someone gives his own work. Expecting an exceptional outcome while doing an incomplete job doesn't make sense to me. A setback and a willingness to improve belong in the same process.

Choose a manageable number of pursuits. Give them the practice they demand, accept the areas you leave less developed, and keep working on the parts that need correction. When someone else joins that work, set the expectations up front so the commitment is clear.