It’s wise to be cautious, but only by engaging – by taking calculated risks – can we discover what we’re capable of. — 123rf
OVER the Christmas break, I got to catch up with some old friends and reminisce about what we’ve been up to over the years. A few of us had attended the same martial arts school, which I wrote about in this column previously, and we ended up talking about the lessons we learned during that time.
At this time of year, people often talk about setting goals. There’s no shortage of advice on how to make resolutions stick, especially beyond February – the time they often become distant memories. As my friends and I talked, we remembered an exercise from those martial arts days that ties in with the idea of trying something new and seeing it through to the end.
The exercise was straightforward. One person stood against the rest of the class, who queued up to spar with them. If you scored the first hit, you took their place, and the winner was the person who could fend off the most challengers. I remember one occasion when the person to beat was Jacqui, a black belt known for her lightning-fast hands. She was calm, composed, and seemed to predict everyone’s movements before they happened.
When my turn came, Jacqui couldn’t land a hit. The bell rang after 30 seconds, and I felt proud of myself. Everyone else had been defeated in under 10 seconds, so lasting the full 30 felt like an achievement.
My pride lasted for about 10 seconds. Jim, our instructor, approached, and I said, “I managed to last the pace!” His response brought me back down to earth: “Yes, but nobody else kept half the hall between themselves and the other fighter!”
He was right. As skilled as Jacqui was, it’s difficult to catch someone when they’re practically on the bus back home. Later, Jim spoke to me about taking challenges head-on. He explained that if we aren’t willing to engage – or if we expect to get everything right straight away – we’ll never learn. The point of the exercise wasn’t to win but to have the courage to try, make mistakes, and learn from them.
By staying safe and keeping my distance, I wasn’t achieving anything. I had probably been waiting for the “right moment”, but the right moments are created, not handed to us.
Another exercise Jim taught us involved working in groups of three. One person stood in the middle while the other two practised their techniques for two minutes. “You might be tempted,” Jim said, “to really go after the person in the middle. A couple of body punches here, maybe a flashy kick to the head. But remember, after two minutes, it’s their turn.”
Reflecting on these exercises, I realise how valuable the lessons were. Jim taught us that we wouldn’t always be in the strongest position, and how we treated others in those moments mattered. Some students didn’t grasp the message on the first try. They would thunder into their partners during their two minutes of fun, only to learn the hard way when it was their turn to stand in the middle.
As for my lesson, Jim would say it’s wise to be cautious, but only by engaging – by taking calculated risks – can we discover what we’re capable of. Even failure teaches us where we’re lacking and how we can improve.
The late Sir Ken Robinson captured this idea perfectly in his book, The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything (2009), “If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original”.
It’s easy to hold ourselves back from new challenges, fearing we won’t feel competent straight away or that progress won’t come quickly enough. This mindset might stem from our schooling, where we’re taught to seek the “right” answer as fast as possible. Making mistakes and engaging in trial and error can feel like a contradiction to learning when, in reality, they’re at the heart of it.
We might also fall into the trap of believing our achievements are entirely our own – having a “me-against-the-world” mentality. But none of us succeed without help. Whether it’s a mentor, a friend, or a supportive community, countless people shape our development. Which is why how we treat others as we strive towards our goals is as important as the effort we put in.
Respect and courage were values Jim worked hard to instil in all his students. The idea that it’s better to be “good enough” in reality than perfect in our fantasies resonates with those who studied under Jim. And kindness, especially from a position of strength, is never a sign of weakness but a virtue.
Jim’s lessons are ones I carry with me to this day. They’ve shaped the way I approach challenges and how I try to treat others. This time of year, as we think about the goals we want to achieve, I’m reminded that growth is never about immediate mastery. It’s about showing up, taking risks, and enjoying the process – including the mistakes along the way.
Sunny Side Up columnist Sandy Clarke has long held an interest in emotions, mental health, mindfulness and meditation. He believes the more we understand ourselves and each other, the better societies we can create. If you have any questions or comments, email lifestyle@thestar.com.my. The views expressed here are entirely the writer's own.
