The multiverse of possibilities is the death trap of the gifted

If you’re even slightly above average intelligence, it’s extremely easy to believe success comes guaranteed to you.

You’re quick to pick up concepts.

You're good at most things others struggle with, and have all the paths in the world open to you at a young age.

Your success is predetermined, inevitable and preordained—if you grew up Catholic as I did.

You can do everything you want to do, of course. Rules don’t apply to outliers like you.

That belief is nothing more than a trap that can keep you from actually realizing that potential. If you're not careful, it will set you back years.

Back when I was a 13 year old rebellious little prick, I used to love programming. I’d sit down in Computer class and create games, apps and once, a Casino. I didn’t just love it, I was really good at it.

So much so that the teacher singled me out once and asked if I’d like to pursue this, or if I needed help applying my wits to other classes that I didn’t care for.

I ignored the man, of course, and have come to regret it 15 years later.

You see, the issue I had wasn’t that any of the classes were too hard. The problem was that it was all too easy. All of it.

From Physics to Computer science to Architecture to Arts to English to Literature. You name it and I excelled at it with little to no effort, given that I was mildly interested in it. I’d nap during Biology, which pissed Mrs Melissa, but I always got her questions right.

Everything was fascinating at the time, so I scratched every itch my curious mind got. I never went much further.

As I was considering where to go to college, i faced the consequences of this patter for the first time.

Having barely approved the classes I didn’t care for, my grades weren’t good enough to compete for scholarships in the US.

I did get a few scholarships for local schools, but wasn't interested in any of them. The dream of studying in Berkley was for those who put in the work.

For the curious reader, yes, I got diagnosed with ADHD about 10 years later.

During Uni I dabbed in everything under the sun, and found it really easy to excel in every class that I cared for once more. It felt good. Being smart feels great, and being smug even better.

But I never stuck to anything. I wrote a few great news articles - then quit. Wrote some great short stories - then quit. Made some very decent short films - then quit. Learned web dev - then quit.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I randomly listened to Ira Glass’s The Gap, and suddenly it all made sense.

The gap between vision and ability

If you’re reading this, there’s a chance you have great taste.

You know what looks good because it feels good.

You see a random design, website or photo and can feel the taste that went on creating it.

You go on to save it in the place where ideas go to die (the bookmarks).

If you’ve been paying attention for a while, maybe even know why.

The light hits a certain way, the typography has -0.25em spacing, they used the 12 column grid.

And so you’ve cultivated a vision for your ideas. An ethereal, fragile image that lives in your brain of what the end result looks like.

Still, unless you’ve done the thing a few thousand times, you know you can’t bring that vision to life. Layout will be not-quite-there, font spacing somehow won’t look the same, and light has a certain quality missing.

That realization is where your goals and dreams die: your interest dips because it’s not as easy as you thought.

You’re not gifted on that particular thing, so you give it up and move on to the next one you’re mildly interested in. That goes on and on forever.

The result is you end up having taste, and being good at the thing in theory, without anything to show for it because you’re not actually good at it. Only kinda sorta maybe in your head.

This is because you only get better by doing the thing.

The antidote

If you made it this far and your ADHD brain didn’t crave toxic Twitter fights yet, I have good news for you.

There’s an antidote to this poisonous cycle that keeps you from realizing your potential, and it’s very simple and not at all easy.

It’s called Putting in The Reps.

You see, something I never realized growing up “gifted” is that there’s no amount of talent that can substitute for hard work, while hard work can close the gap between natural talent and real mastery.

This may seem daunting at first and you may be tempted to stop here. Don’t. It’s way simpler than it seems.

The good news is, it will only take you about 10 years to master whatever you’re interested in, if you focus hard enough.

The bad news is, it will take you about 10 years to master whatever you’re interested in, if you focus hard enough.

However, the Gap, that annoying trough that makes you want to quit, will only last a fraction of that time. You’ll start to see small improvements as soon as a month or two after starting, depending on how many reps you put in per day or week. 

Then you’ll start to enjoy the journey, and those 10 years will be filled with joy and fulfillment, and go by in a flash.

Don’t get me wrong, it will still be hard as hell—there’s no such thing as an easy ride if you have ambition. 

But it will be worth the lowest lows when you experience the highs along the way. 

Does it mean you should stop experimenting with things? No. Of course not.

But be mindful of the trap that causes you to constantly switch interests. Ask your unconscious voice, why?

Why are you interested in this new thing? 

What makes it attractive? 

Is it the promise of more money, or seems easier than what you’re doing? 

Your motivation for exploring new things is arguably more important than the thing itself.

Money and fame are not good motivators by themselves.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with them, particularly money, but more so that there’s money to be made in every discipline, if that is what you’re after. So don’t let it sway you.

Effort Over Talent

Back when I got my aptitude test results back, I could hardly believe it.

I finished about an hour earlier than anyone else, but I was still stunned when I got 99% in all categories. A thoughtful message by whoever graded me said I could do whatever I wanted in life.

In my short essay I had written that I’d want to either be a filmmaker, a physicist, or an architect.

Their conclusion was that I could do anything and would excel. And they were not wrong, I did excel in all of those, at baseline level.

But as soon as others started to apply themselves, put in the reps and hours and days of grueling work, it became apparent that talent was not enough. I relied solely on my natural talent and wits to get me to the finish line.

Unfortunately for me, my inner response wasn’t to try harder and put in the work. It was to lose interest, abandon it altogether and move on to something else where I could excel against beginners.

That is a fine strategy while you’re in college against other newbies, but much less so once you get out and face professionals that have been putting in the reps for 10+ years.

I was afraid of failure and hated the uncomfortable feeling of inadequacy that comes inherent to growing and learning new things. So, after failing miserably many times over, I came to a realization much later than I wished:

Talent is extremely overrated.

This is coming from a guy who was talented in essentially everything but sports growing up, so take it with a grain of salt.

About 13 years after finishing high school I hardly had anything to show for all that talent, and had I not come to that realization sometime in 2019, I’d still be stuck.

Hard work can substitute talent, but there’s no substitute for hard work.