Continuous Improvement

What is it to learn? I mean to really learn. Sure, you can sit in a classroom and frantically scribble down the most prominent words of sentences that someone once heard and, now, is regurgitating to you. Yea, you can read what McGraw-Hill and Prentice Hall have decided is worthy-enough information to publish in a textbook. Mind you, this is the same textbook that thousands of other students around the world will devour, chapter by chapter, only to make a grade on their exam and, no sooner, put the information out of their mind. Absolutely, you can sit by while someone shows you, step-by-step, how to perform a task on a computer or change a spark plug on a vehicle. And while you are surely being taught, are you really learning? Or are you merely remembering? Maintaining a series of steps in a particular sequence in your head so that you might be able to mimic the task at hand?

I know I've said it a million times: "You'll never guess what I learned, today..." And then I'll go on to demonstrate something my ex showed me how to do, or give a synopsis of a lecture in one of my college courses. But really, when I sit back and think about it, other than storing information and presumably being able to recreate a situation at a later date, I'm never able to convince myself that I truly learned anything.

To me, learning has more to do with life, and the trials and tribulations that go along with it. Its about taking the underlying lessons from any given moment in life, carrying the lesson into a value-adding mindset, and using it to better yourself in the future. 

My dad recently said to me, "Ya know, Shel, you can't always learn things the hard way." I just nodded in agreement with him when he first said it, but upon some personal reflection on the statement, I think I've gained a greater understanding of what he truly meant by it. 

For the better part of my 23.5 years on Earth, I've managed to learn all my lessons, and I mean all of them, the hard way. I allowed my actions to fly freely, without creating any reservations derived from a preceding logical thought process. Instead of working towards damage prevention, I allowed whatever may happen to happen, and then played game after game of 52-card-pickup to sort through the aftermath of my actions. Without a doubt, anybody who knows me would be unable to tell you any different. I consistently and knowingly allowed myself to fall between a rock and hard place just to have to dig myself out again, time after time. I loved it. And every time that I managed to wriggle my way out of a tough situation, sometimes by only the skin on my nose, I felt an overwhelming sense of ability, invincibility, and know-how.

                 But doesn't that get exhausting? Don't you get tired of cleaning up the mess you made?

Somehow, amazingly, I still enjoy flying by the seat of my pants. Regardless of what situation I've gotten myself into in the past, I've always found a way to come back out on top. I've "learned" that if I can find the drive, I can find a way to get through it. "Where there's a will, there's a way," right?

And then, my mind makes it's way back to my father's statement. Why can't I continue to live life this way? If it's worked in the past, it'll work again. Learning the hard way is how I learn things. Wait....learn what? What I have I really learned? I haven't learned a damn thing. I've only recognized a pattern and accepted it as the way of life. Fall down, get back up. But isn't that just repetition? Isn't that just recalling how to do the same thing, over and over again?

To learn, would be to take conscious note of how many times I've had to pull myself up off my knees and fight to keep my chin held high. To learn, would be to walk away from each one of those situations with the ability to use what I've learned to keep myself from falling down the next time around. To learn, would be to grow, to gain stride, to move forward. And, if I'm truly learning, these moments of hardship will make less frequent appearances. And if I take full advantage of the knowledge to be gained from my faltering moments, my troubled tears would be few and far between.

Here's to learning the easy way. Here's to continuous improvement. Here's to a more productive next 23.5 years. 

Cheers! Xo