Our brains assign us new curricula all the time. They just don’t let us in on the learning objectives.
Here’s something that brings people to my coaching practice fairly frequently:
Someone makes a big decision or takes a big step forward in their lives, on purpose. It often feels like they’ve started really moving toward their goals. But then they discover that the new project or path has a hidden, horrible sting. And everything that seemed so promising starts to feel like it’s going to shit.
For example:
A brilliant analyst more comfortable behind the scenes starts her own business, but now she has to pitch directly to prospective clients. An artist accepts a fabulous commission that’s exactly the kind of work he wants to do, but it means he has to adapt to an unfamiliar medium. A tech-world inventor comes up with a new project that requires her to delegate in new areas, and she can’t seem to stop micromanaging.
When we’re in this boat, we usually understand the shittiness as an unfortunate byproduct of an otherwise advantageous choice. The commission was too amazing to turn down, or it made excellent financial sense to leave the firm, etc. We spend a lot of time wishing we could do this chosen thing without also having to deal with all the unchosen parts that make us feel uncomfortable, incompetent or both.
But when we think this way, we’re missing the actual point of the decision we’ve made. Our brains didn’t choose this path despite the fact that it also happens to run through some unpleasant territory. They chose this path because it runs through that territory—because following the path means we’ll finally have to address things we have usually been avoiding for decades.
I know this is the case, because I’ve seen what happens when I work with clients on the seemingly incidental repercussions of whatever choice they’ve made. And what happens is that every seeming side issue quickly reveals itself to be a direct portal to the core negative beliefs keeping them stuck.
Take the artist I mentioned. When he arrived at coaching, he had been blocked for months, and he was deeply worried that he wouldn’t be able to create anything good again. But in time it became clear that he had placed himself this to excruciating situation for a reason.
Here’s why. The artist had gained pretty significant early success, which meant he’d never had to face up to his own doubts about his talent. There was always enough outside adulation to fill in the gap’s in his own confidence. But that strategy had put a ceiling on what he could do, since he couldn’t bear to take any risks that he thought might alienate his audience. So when he started bumping against that ceiling in his artistic practice, his brain chose a path that ensured he’d have to face his dependence on approval, by removing his ability to court it.
The new project made all his usual ways of working—which were also his usual ways of ensuring the right people would applaud the work—unavailable to him. And so he was forced to deal, finally, with his fears that he wasn’t really good enough. He had to learn how to create and sustain his own faith in his process and results, without the steady stream of approval that had protected him for so long. Although the process deeply sucked at times, he mastered the lesson his brain set. And without that ceiling, he gained access to a level of experimentation, originality and innovation that put his work on an entirely new level.
I could offer a similar account of the analyst’s curriculum in leadership or the inventor’s in believing others can be trusted. It’s as if our brains scan the world for a situation that will require us to grow in a crucial way, and then they sign us up for growth-school whether we want to go or not. I’m not sure why brains do this, or even if all brains do it. But for me and the kind of people who respond to my work, attendance at growth-school seems to be compulsory. Master one curriculum, and you just get assigned another.
Someone once suggested to me that certain people might wind up enrolled in growth-school because achieving at regular school was a fairly significant thing in their lives. That makes a certain sense, but I’m not sure I buy it as a full explanation.
For one thing, the curriculum often seems to take us off approved routes and away from more guaranteed avenues of success, as the artist’s example suggests. And when you see it in action—when you see people marching themselves down a path that heads directly to their worst fears—the growth-school imperative feels stronger and possibly more hardwired than the real-school association would suggest.
Our brains seem to have an inbuilt drive to unlock themselves—to unlock us—as much as they can in the time we have.
Why it helps to know about growth-school
If your brain is going to do this whether you like it or not, why does it matter if you know about growth-school? Does it even help to identify the learning objectives?
I think it matters in part as a reminder that you are on your own side. When you have spent a lot of your life fighting yourself, this perspective can be hard to keep in view. You get really, really used to thinking of yourself as your own worst enemy. Plus, it’s hard to have much self-trust when something you thought was an undeniably good decision seems to have exploded your life instead.
But as painful as growth-school can be, it is necessarily for us. Being for us is its only raison d’être. The entire curriculum is optimized to push us to where and who we most want to be. Growth-school means we are actually angling and agitating to help ourselves, even when it’s dispiriting and exhausting. Even when it looks a lot like we’re doing the opposite.
I’ve seen what this shift in perspective does, in myself and in my clients. It’s powerful, moving, and, most of all, it’s freeing. When you can see that you set yourself up to learn something important—rather than to suffer or self-sabotage—you experience a surge of energy and hope that you can use to propel yourself forward.
But don’t take my word for it. Answer the prompts in the guide below in the comments, and I’ll coach you on your response. (You can also get a downloadable version here. Password: curriculum).
If you’re stuck or not sure how to answer any of the questions, do the best you can and I’ll ask follow up questions.
And I’ll pick one respondent at random for a free 20-minute live coaching session.
Learning Objectives Exploration Guide
What are you doing or do you want to do that feels hard, and what hard or annoying or hateful parts feel extraneous?
Example: I want to publish academic research, but having an audience requires networking which I hate.What is it about the extraneous thing that feels hard or unwanted or icky?
Example: It feels like people get attention for the wrong reasons. I want the best work to get the most attention, period. I want things to be fair, and I want to have control based on the quality of what I write.What would have to be true of you or others or. the world, for you to feel totally unworried about the things your noted in #2 above?
Example: I would need to feel like I’d get the response that I think is fair, that others will treat me justly, that I won’t lose out on things that I feel like should be mine.Now rephrase #3 as a learning agenda. You can try this in one of two ways (or do both!). The first is a positive version of the beliefs in #3. The second is a version where you don’t NEED these negative beliefs to be reversed. (These two versions go together, because once we know we will be OK even if the negative beliefs are true, it becomes more possible to see that they are not hardwired rules of reality but rather subjective interpretations that fit some situations better than others.)
I’m here to learn that… [positive version of beliefs]
Example: I’m here to learn that the responses I get will be fair. That others will treat me justly. That I won’t lose out on the things I feel like should be mine
I’m here to learn that I’ll be totally OK even if [negative version of beliefs]
Example: I’m here to learn that I’ll be totally OK even if things are unfair. Even People don’t treat me justly. Even if I lose out on things I feel like should be mine.
Note: whatever you write here may bring up some sadness. Most likely living in the world created by the negative version of these beliefs has been painful. Be as gentle and compassionate as you can with yourself in making room for these feelings.How does it feel to think about the positive version of these beliefs being true? What do you think your life would be like if you mastered this curriculum?
Example: It feels scary but hopeful. I think my life would be much more open and free.
Think of three reasons why the positive version of the beliefs in #4 might be true.
Example: I’ve always had an audience that understood and appreciated my work.
I have many things in my life that feel like they are expressly mine. I’ve gotten results that went in my favour that others thought were unfair. Fair is a perspective not an absolute.
You can also get a downloadable copy of the guide to keep. Password: curriculum.
Share your answers below and I’ll coach you on them, and also suggest some ways you can make these reflections count in your daily life.