Progress Isn't Linear: how learning to type taught me how to learn

I grew up with two games on my home computer.

One of them was this weird ape game where two gorillas flung explosive bananas at each other over city landscapes. Almost like a DOS version of angry birds.

The other was Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing - a fun, interactive, and educational game encouraging children to hone their typing skills in both the areas of speed and accuracy.

As a result of this early connection between technology and fun, I loved computers. I loved typing. I also loved that in the 3rd grade we had to learn about the letters of the keyboard and I was already a pro by then. Learning about computers was both mentally stimulating and something I could excel at - two of my favorite things as a child.

So when the 6th grade rolled around, and we had to take ‘computer class’ I thought that I would get to enjoy a semester of feeling morally superior to my peers by showing off my technological prowess.

Boy, was I wrong.

6th grade computers class was actually about learning to type ‘correctly’. You know, with both hands planted on the keyboard like a piano player, and each finger resting in its proper place. While yes, I could type quite quickly at that point in my life, I was not doing it the proper way by any means. My approach was more of an improvisatory technique using the index and middle finger of each hand however I felt like in the moment.

Even though my way seemed to be working just fine, I was not about to let a silly computer class ruin my grades and so I relented to the process of learning how to type properly.

It was awful.

I was terrible at it.

Sentences that used to take me mere seconds to type now took minutes and often included typos. I felt like a discombobulated idiot. But again, I stuck with it, mostly because I felt I had no other choice.

And then one day, right before the semester came to a close, everything started to click into place. I was typing with my hands in the proper position quite easily. I didn’t have to think so hard about what I was doing.

Now, in the present day as I type this post, I still use the proper positioning and can type at 100+ words per minute without looking at the keyboard… or without looking at anything at all.

Why do I share so much with you about my journey to becoming a perfectly adequate typist?

Because what my typing journey taught me about the learning process as a whole carries over to implementing new processes everywhere in business and in life.

Learning is rarely, if ever, linear.

Sometimes, we put in the work and there is a significant delay before we see the progress. Sometimes, the progress comes quickly at first, but then later on it stalls. Sometimes we seemingly backtrack on our progress in order to implement systems that will lead to larger progress later on.

And yet, there can be an adamant societal tendency to pretend that progress should always be linear. It is this belief that I find ultimately holds most people back from ever reaching their goal. Because if we think that the path home is straight, but the path we find ourselves walking down is curved, we will ultimately stop and turn around.

When we expect for progress to look a certain way, and then our learning path doesn’t look that way - it is only logical for us to think that we aren’t making any progress. Yet most of the time, we are.

But if progress isn’t linear, and not everyone is going to excel at everything, how can we tell if we are simply on a journey of non-linear progress vs a road that is not meant for us?

I’m so glad you asked.

Why are you learning in the first place?

I can’t tell you whether that new learning journey you’re on will take you one week, one month, one year, or one lifetime to see progress on. I can’t tell you at the beginning of the journey how far you’ll ultimately get on that journey. Neither can you.

But, one thing you can tell me is why you are endeavoring to go down that road in the first place.

We are multi-faceted creatures and have many reasons for doing the things we do. But when it comes to the areas where we choose to spend our time learning and growing, one of the most important factors is our own interest and curiosity.

External motivators can be powerful initiators, sure. Wanting to prove something, show someone or simply win can give us valuable adrenaline to take a small risk, push outside of our comfort zone, or dive into something new.

But adrenaline wears off. And when the path of progress gets unclear, external motivators have much shakier staying power than internal drive and curiosity.

Again, I’m not at all saying that reasons other than intrinsic interest are bad. There are likely going to be many reasons any of us pursue anything. And if some of those reasons include making money, achieving external success, or engaging in external competition - that’s great.

However, if those reasons are not supported with your own desire, it is going to be much harder to endure the journey of learning and progress - and all of the ups, downs, delays, and curveballs it contains.

What kind of parameters are you working with?

Humans are notoriously terrible at estimating time.

So when we then endeavor to estimate what types of results we can expect within a certain amount of time, especially in a new learning area, we typically do one of two things.

First, we might try to make the estimate ourselves based on any bit of seemingly applicable information or experience we have. The issue with doing this is that we will almost always drastically underestimate both the amount of time it will take to see progress as well as the amount of work it will take to make progress.

This isn’t because we are stupid. This is because we don’t know what we don’t know. And again, humans are quite bad at predicting time in the future. Plus, we hope it won’t take that long or be that hard. So, we underestimate, and set ourselves up for disappointment.

The second thing we might do is to engage an outside party for their opinion. Maybe they have expertise in the area we are trying to grow in. Maybe they have perspective of what is typical.

Best case scenario, an outside party will be entirely neutral and will be able to share their average estimate for how long it might take someone to achieve x under average circumstances. But you aren’t an average person under average circumstances. You are you, in your own circumstance, and in your own life. Is there a likelihood that the average may be applicable to you? Sure. But when it comes to planning for our own lives and endeavors, specifics around our individual situation matter way more than averages and statistics.

Worst case scenario, however, the outside party you’re consulting with is trying to manipulatively sell you something, and therefore, they overpromise an unrealistic timeline and workload to both hook you into buying their support and/or keep you hooked when you ultimately don’t reach their promised, impossible goal on their promised, impossible timeline.

Either way, these options aren’t ideal.

So, what do I suggest?

Making your own data-informed decisions

I’m a big fan of collecting pertinent data to inform future decisions. So I recommend entering into any new learning endeavor with a clear direction, clear actions to take, and, most importantly a clear amount of time during which you will take those actions without expectation, pause, delay, or scrutiny.

That last part around setting a clear time parameter is really important and most people don’t do it.

How long this initial period of data collection should be is entirely dependent on you and whatever it is that you’re trying to do. However, I have found it helpful to make this period of time be approximately 1/3 the length of time I feel I have.

So, for example, if I’m trying to learn how to ride a bike in order to take a bike tour on a vacation I have in 3 months, the initial period of experimentation might be 1 month. During that month, my action might be spending 15 minutes on the bike in some way, shape, or form. Only at the end of that month will I assess if I need to change my process or engage other help.

While after seven days, it may be tempting to either give up, stop my process, or immediately hire a bike-riding teacher - that’s not the deal. The deal is I gave myself a month to see what happens, so ideally, I’ll actually give myself that month to see what happens.

Along with underestimating timelines, it seems that most of us also underestimate how much we can actually come to learn and know about ourselves when given the chance to explore in an unpressurized way.

And yet, if we can give ourselves even a little space and time to do so, we can collect valuable information about where we are actually at, which can help inform our next steps in the learning and growing process.

Sometimes we learn fast and sometimes we learn slow. And while it’s tempting to tell ourselves that the speed or consistency of our growth and learning in any way reflects how competent we will ultimately be - it doesn’t. It just doesn’t.

What has more of an impact on how competent we will ultimately be is how we develop our patience, persistence, and focus when engaging in the learning process. When we can give ourselves a little breathing room and some clear structure, we ultimately see ourselves achieving what we never thought possible.