By Mason Ryan

Difficult Is Not a Verdict

PILLAR 17 · HONOR

Because a thing seems difficult for you, do not think it impossible for anyone to accomplish.

Read the trap in that line. Marcus Aurelius is not talking about talent. He is talking about the verdict you pass when something is hard for you. You cannot do it, so you decide it cannot be done. Or worse, you decide the man who can do it must be cheating, gifted, or faking.

That verdict is convenient. It protects you.

If it is impossible, you are excused. If he is just built different, you are excused. Either way you never have to ask the honest question. What would this cost, and am I willing to pay it?

Most difficult things are not impossible. They are expensive. Expensive in years. In repetitions nobody clapped for. In mornings where progress was too small to see. The black belt who makes a position look easy paid for that ease for a decade. You saw the ease. You did not see the invoice.

Saturday night, Oregon's quarterback watched most of the game from the bench. Earlier this season he had been handed the verdict — his starting job given to another man. Down late in the fourth quarter, they sent him in, and he threw the winning touchdown with 28 seconds left. Difficult had described where he stood, not sentenced where he would end.

Honor refuses the cheap verdict in both directions.

Do not call a thing impossible because it is hard for you today. And do not call yourself finished because a thing is hard for you today. Difficult is a description of where you are. It is not a sentence about where you end.

On the mat you watch this every week. A new man gets mounted, cannot move, and decides jiu-jitsu is not for him. A month later the same position is merely uncomfortable for the man who stayed. Nothing about the position changed. He changed, rep by rep, in amounts too small to notice on any single day. The impossible was just the unpracticed, wearing a mask.

There is a second cut here, and it matters more. Stop exporting your limits onto other people. Your kid brings you a hard goal and you soften it for him, because it looks difficult from where you stand. Your training partner attempts something you would not attempt and you call it reckless. Sometimes it is. Sometimes you are just handing him your ceiling and calling it advice.

Let people attempt hard things. Let yourself attempt them. Judge the work by the work, not by your first feeling about the work.

Difficult means bring more time. Bring help. Bring smaller steps. It does not mean bring a verdict.

Today's Action: Name one thing you have quietly called impossible this year. Write down the smallest first step a person could actually take toward it, and take that step today — no verdict attached.

Read the Pillar

Get the Weekly Brief

One email a week. The week's stories read through the four virtues — plus one action to take.