As learners we're sometimes disheartened by a perceived lack of progress, particularly when we're trying to master a complex and challenging discipline. At our worst, we can feel that haven't made any progress at all--that we've actually regressed and somehow returned to our starting point.
The problem may simply be a matter of perspective. We're trained to envision progress on a two-dimensional graph that tracks a variable over time--and when things are going well the line moves steadily upward and to the right. But I've come to view learning as a spiral process. Our journey as learners takes us along a three-dimensional coil, and we travel both on a cyclical path that returns to its starting point and along a linear axis.
This model reflects my own development as a coach and a teacher. When I launched my private practice in 2006 and when I joined Stanford's staff in 2007 I often felt like I was out of my comfort zone, running up against the limits of my abilities. In time those sensations passed, and I came to feel a sense of competence and even mastery.
But those comforting feelings also passed, and once again I felt out of my depth, struggling, challenged. What happened? Why had I regressed? In truth I hadn't regressed, but I had returned to my starting point on the cyclical path. I had completed one loop around the coil, starting at a point where I was being pushed and stretched to my limits, proceeding through a zone where I felt more capable and comfortable, and then returning to that state of struggle and discomfort.
If I were to map this path on a two-dimensional graph, it might look disheartening--but that perspective would leave out some critically important data--because the coil is three-dimensional, and as I traveled around the cyclical path, I was also traveling up along the coil's linear axis. So I wasn't actually at the same spot at all--I had moved up a level, working with my clients and students on more complex and difficult issues, stepping into situations where the stakes were higher, and where more would be asked of me as a coach and a teacher.
This process continues today: I jump into something new, and I feel stretched and challenged; then I grow in response, and I feel a sense of capability and calm; and then I push myself again and feel stretched once more. And as I'm repeating this endless cycle, I'm steadily moving up or down the coil's linear axis, generally making forward progress as I push myself, and occasionally backsliding when I shrink from a challenge.
An analogue to this process that can be represented in two dimensions is the idea of the "flow state," a concept explored in depth by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (pronounced Cheek-sent-me-high). [1] If we chart our mental state during activities that present us with a varying level of challenge relative to our skill, we find that when our skill is substantially higher than the challenge being posed, we become bored. And when the challenge is substantially higher than our skill, we become anxious. And when the two are relatively balanced, we find ourselves in a state of "flow," where we lose track of time and become fully absorbed in the activity:
My cyclical journey along the spiral's coil is similar to the process of tacking my way through Csikszentmihalyi's flow model above. I start out anxious, as the challenge at hand is greater than my current skill level; my skills develop and I enter a state of balance; my skills continue to develop, and I'm increasingly comfortable, to the point of boredom; I seek out greater challenges, passing through a state of balance once more before returning to anxiety. And the cycle begins again--a similar process to the Conscious Competence model, which I find a useful complement to the idea of "spiral learning." [2]
At times the concept of flow (and the attendant anxiety and boredom) helps me better understand my own learning journey, but there are also many times when I don't experience the loss of self-consciousness or unawareness of the passage of time described in the flow literature. I'm simply moving ahead, consciously, one experience at a time. Here the concept of spiral learning reminds me that I'm making steady progress in my development through small, daily activities, even (and perhaps especially) when I sense a cyclical return to a state of unease and discomfort.
Almost all of my clients and students experience some version of this as well. Having stepped into a demanding leadership role or having been accepted into Stanford's business school, they find themselves challenged and stretched on a regular basis, and slowly their feelings of discomfort and struggle recede as they become more familiar with the new world around them and the new challenges they face. But then, just when they feel settled and comfortable, those difficult feelings return, and it can be hard to avoid a sense of frustration or even hopelessness at having regressed.
By acknowledging this cyclical process of 1) struggle, 2) growth, 3) competence, 4) bigger challenges, and 5) a renewed struggle on a higher plane, we may come to feel a greater sense of "comfort with discomfort" in pursuit of our own learning and development. [3]
Footnotes
[1] Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, 2008)
[2] Conscious Competence in Practice
For Further Reading
3 Tips on Overcoming Learning Plateaus from David Foster Wallace (Walter Chen, 99u, 2013). Thanks to Nick Fassler.
Photo by Jo Marshall.
