Early flight was dangerous, pioneering work and Milton had made his sons promise to never fly together. He couldn’t imagine losing them both during a flight crash. Over the subsequent decades, aeronautical engineers and historians have thoroughly studied and chronicled what the Wright brothers did to succeed. Searching “Wright brothers” on Amazon yields 1,628 books.
But, when considering what contributed to the success of these bicycle mechanics and self-taught engineers, both of whom didn’t even graduate from high school, it’s also important to consider what they decided not to do.
Here are the four things they didn’t do.
Obsess over milestones.
Their intent was to fly. But they had no real idea how long it’d take to work their way through the innumerable challenges. For one thing, they calculated they’d need a minimum of eight horsepower from an engine that weighed less than 200 pounds. There was no such engine available at the time. So the brothers set about building one.
Not to mention the other innumerable obstacles involved with creating a lightweight wood and cloth structure that would withstand the forces encountered while flying; or how to alter the shape of the wing surfaces so their flight could be controlled.
The only thing greater than the unanswered questions and problems was their commitment to get it all figured out. What they didn’t have was an unrealistic schedule.
Work haphazardly.
Anders Ericsson is an internationally recognized professor of psychology at Florida State University, who has spent a lifetime researching and studying human achievement and performance. He’s studied world-class experts in a variety of areas, including athletics, music, chess, medicine, etc.
What Professor Ericsson has found is that the best way to improve and become a master in your life’s work is through purposeful (or dedicated) practice. He has authored several books, most recently Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise, published in 2016. Simply stated Ericsson describes purposeful practice as having four important primary components: a specific goal, intense focus, immediate feedback, and frequent incremental improvements.
The Wright brothers are nearly a perfect example for all of these components.
Chase someone else’s goal.
Their objective of flying wasn’t assigned to them. It wasn’t the goal of some wealthy industrialist who pressured the brothers to solve the challenge of flight. It wasn’t a directive from an existing business enterprise looking for a new way to transport paying customers.
Learning to fly was their goal. The seeds originated in 1878 when their father brought home a small toy helicopter for Orville and Wilbur, then just seven and nine years old. The boys played constantly with the rubber band-powered toy until it broke, at which point they built their own.
Quit.
Enough said.
Although Milton made his sons promise they’d never fly together, there was just one exception ever made to that rule. Orville and Wilbur flew together on May 25, 1910. The brothers landed safely. Afterwards, Orville took up their father, Milton, for his one and only flight. The 82-year-old Milton climbed aboard the flyer and held on tightly as it accelerated across the ground.
As Orville powered the aircraft upward, Milton looked down and watched everything he’d ever known in all his 82 years, slowly fall away. He saw the clumps of grass and the leaves on the trees merge into blocks of solid colors. He saw plots of land. He saw how the fencing created lines across the terrain below. He watched a small flock of startled birds take off from a field and fly under the Wright plane. Everything Milton had ever known was below him, as though it were spread out on a giant, flat canvas.
I wonder if his first and only experience flying generated a glimpse of a new world of possibilities. If at some point during the flight, Milton sensed a transition. Certainly the Wrights knew their invention would result in enormous changes in the world below.
During the flight, Milton turned his head, and looked at his son, Orville. So that Milton could be heard above the wind and the engine noise—and the din of the beliefs and limitations that held our bare feet to the warm, hard earth over the millennia—Milton shouted to his son.
“Higher, Orville, higher!”
Part Four
Courage and Creativity
Taking Stock and Standing Up;
Discovering and Connecting
What It Feels Like to Punch Fear in the Face
Seems like most everybody makes excuses. Or is afraid to wrestle with themselves until the old self lies exhausted in the dirt, yelling “uncle” … and the new self stands up, walks away, and doesn’t look back. Here’s one person who doesn’t make excuses and continues to punch fear in the face.
Chuck Close is a world-renowned artist. He paints large-scale portraits, measuring several feet on each side. And his portrait paintings are so impossibly and unimaginably detailed, that they’re mistaken for photographs.44
But, even if Chuck Close knew you as a dear and close friend, he probably wouldn’t recognize you. Close has what neurologists call prosopagnosia. It’s believed to be caused by lesions that have damaged the brain. It’s also called face blindness. Here’s what that means. Chuck Close isn’t able to recognize faces. It’s why, even after years of being married to his wife, Close didn’t recognize her.
You’d think this rare condition would make it more difficult to paint portraits. But according to Close, that thought didn’t even occur to him. Close said,
“I was not conscious of making a decision to paint portraits because I have difficulty recognizing faces. That occurred to me twenty years after the fact when I looked at why I was still painting portraits, why that still had urgency for me. I began to realize that it has sustained me for so long because I have difficulty in recognizing faces.”45
And if that weren’t enough, there were other major difficulties that would impact his ability to create art. In 1988, after delivering a speech in New York City, Chuck Close had what he has come to describe as “the incident.” A spinal artery collapse resulted in him having a seizure. It was cataclysmic, and Close lost essentially all movement from the neck down.
Close worked hard for months in physical therapy, but only regained a minimal amount of movement in his arms. He would have to spend the rest of his life in a motorized wheelchair. But his desire to create burned within him, and, fortunately, Chuck Close was driven to try. So he strapped a paintbrush to his wrist and went to work using what little movement he had. As is the case with all real artists, his work evolved.
Close continued painting portraits on large canvasses. But now he had an assistant begin by dividing the canvas into small grids. And with a brush strapped to his wrist, Close utilized paint and paper in each grid to create a small work of art. And each grid contributed a piece to the overall portrait. The resulting image was pixelated—and compelling.
Here’s what Chuck Close can teach you about what it feels like to stare down fear.
It Takes Courage
Imagine this. You have honed your skills to the point where you can paint a face on a nine-foot by seven-foot canvas with such exacting detail, that it is mistaken for a photograph. Then you lose all those skills. And yet somehow, you have the wherewithal to make the decision to start all over again, fully knowing that whatever you do, will have to be done with a small fraction of the capability you once had.
The magnitude of courage necessary to move forward is frankly hard to fathom. To better understand how daunting this must have been, imagine other professions that require decades of neuromuscular training before attaining world-class performance—ballerina, football player, or race car driver—and after experiencing what Chuck Close did, they decide to begin again.
Success Is Uncertain
Of course it is. That’s why you’re afraid.
“Never let anyone define what you are capable
of by using parameters that don’t apply to you.”
—Chuck Close46
Ditto. Maybe unimaginably hard. Begin the work.
Nobody Can Do It for You
Nobody could pick up a brush and paint while Chuck Close sat nearby giving instructions. That’s coaching or teaching, not painting. What’s more, nobody but Close could experience the struggle that would shape his work into something entirely new.
It Leads to New Possibilities
What a loss it would have been if Chuck Close stopped making art after his incident. Instead, he strapped a brush to his hand and continued. In the process, he created a new way of seeing and thinking about portraits—and created hundreds of new paintings.
There Is a Choice
Looking over some of the paintings Chuck Close has done since his incident, it’s kind of impossible to imagine that he might have made the decision to not paint. But, of course, he could have made the understandable decision to never paint again.
It’s good he made the choice to continue. And not just because the world is inspired by his work. But because it would certainly have been a dire world for Chuck Close if he did not make the decision to continue to create.
“I don’t work with inspiration. Inspiration
is for amateurs. I just get to work.”
—Chuck Close47
It’s Never Over (As Long as You’re Alive and Creating)
Although Chuck Close is nearly 80 years old (he was born in 1940), he’s still on the journey of reinvention. In the past couple of years, he has separated from his wife, relocated to a geographic area far from the comfort and support of his many friends, and he continues to experiment with his art to the point that he’s dismaying art critics and confounding friends.
And here’s what Chuck Close knows. Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.48
Five Daily Practices to
Unleash Your Creativity Mojo
I wasn’t smart enough. Probably not even cool enough. But I wanted in.
The streetlights cast an eerie glow along the dark street. I hid in the shadows and watched closely as a man walked up to the steel door and knocked. At about head height, a small panel on the door slid open. I could see a woman peering out. She said “twelve.” The man responded “six.” The door opened.
I waited in the silence for several minutes, until it happened again. This time a woman approached the door. After knocking, the panel slid open, and the woman inside said “six.” The reply was “three.” The door opened.
I had it figured out! I walked confidently up to the door and knocked. The panel opened, the woman said “eight,” to which I replied “four.” And … and … nothing. The door remained locked.
Maybe if I’d have spent more time strengthening my creativity, and doing these daily practices, I would’ve been able to solve the puzzle and open the door.
Do something different.
We’re all creatures of habit. That’s generally a good thing, as it allows us to efficiently zip through the day and avoid the continual awkwardness of being outside our comfort zone. But those habits also curtail new experiences, and new experiences are what keep us learning and yield new discoveries.
Famous record producer Sam Phillips combined different styles of music in new ways. And that continual search led to the discovery of new talent and new music. Sam Phillips discovered talent and shaped seminal artists that included Howlin’ Wolf, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and an 18-year-old truck driver named Elvis Presley. He helped create rock ’n’ roll along the way.
Making a point of doing just one new thing a day can have a big effect. Try it for a week and maybe keep it going for a lifetime. Brush your teeth using the opposite hand. Sit with a different group at lunch. Make some rock ’n’ roll, and remember what Sam Phillips said, “If you’re not doing something different, you’re not doing anything.”
Take a break.
Step away from the problem and stop racking your brain for a solution. There’s a reason so many good ideas come to us in the morning or in the shower. We’re rested and we’ve given our brains time to process. Take a walk, or get outside for a run. Listen to music, or pick up an instrument and make some music.
Or try meditation. Tough guy actor Hugh Jackman, who played the Marvel comics superhero Wolverine, says “Meditation is all about the pursuit of nothingness. It’s like the ultimate rest. It’s better than the best sleep you’ve ever had. It’s a quieting of the mind. It sharpens everything, especially your appreciation of your surroundings. It keeps life fresh.”
I like the idea of quieting the mind and sharpening everything. Besides, who am I to argue with Wolverine.
Learn something new (in your chosen area of expertise).
When I first started out as an engineer, I was told by a grumpy old draftsman as he stood over his drawing board, that “I’ve forgotten more than you know.” I was fresh out of engineering school, so that was true. But the comment still kinda stung.
The point is, those days of knowing-it-all are gone. Things are changing so fast in today’s world, that you have to continually be learning. You have to keep yourself on the learning curve. Don’t wait until you’re forced to learn a new skill. Don’t whine about it. Make learning a part of who you are.
If you learn something new in your chosen field every day … that’s 364 new things in a year (you get your birthday off). Yes, I did the math. Fairly soon, all those bits of knowledge will start to connect with one another, reinforcing and deepening your understanding on the topic. Before you know it, you’ll be a subject matter expert!
And maybe, at some point in the distant future, your brain will overflow with knowledge, and you’ll have forgotten more than someone else even knows. But don’t forget the important stuff. Like remembering to call your mom, being kind, and offering encouragement.
Venture outside your comfort zone.
Whether it’s entrepreneur Richard Branson, boxer Manny Pacquiao, physicist Stephen Hawking or the band U2—everyone I deeply admire has had to grind through to success. They basically had to influence and shape the reality around them, at the same time improve themselves such that they could accomplish what they set out to do. Experience shows that deliberate practice is what makes great accomplishment possible.
These might be bumper-sticker slogans, but worth remembering. If you still look cute after your workout, you’re not training hard enough.
If you don’t make mistakes, you’re not working on hard enough problems.
And that means spending the majority of your development time outside your comfort zone.
How about this for a bumper sticker? “Be the most determined person you know.”
Try a new approach.
Pablo Picasso achieved the pinnacle of his success when he invented Cubism. He achieved fame and fortune and was revered not just within the art community but in the world. And then at the peak of his fame, Picasso decided he’s no longer interested in that style he created. He went back to Italy and studied the artists from the past. It was described as the equivalent of going back to kindergarten.
This might actually be the most difficult of all. Force yourself to approach a problem from an entirely new perspective. Few people continually reinvent over the course of their careers. Walt Disney said, “We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”
So, be careful when you catch yourself saying “Yea, I like [insert accomplished person here], but I like her older stuff better.” You just might be saying that you’re more comfortable with the familiar, and [insert accomplished person here] is continuing to grow and leaving you behind.
Which brings me back to the door …
The first time the panel slid open, “twelve” was answered with “six.”
The second time, “six” was answered with “three.”
It turns out, the answer for “eight” … is “five.”
You see, I thought
the answer was to divide by two, but actually the answer was simpler.
The answer was simply the number of letters in the word.
A Proven Technique for Producing Ideas
The most recorded song in history arrived in a dream. The melody was truly beautiful. A wholly formed composition of chords that immediately produced profound sentimental longing in the listener. It was so complete, that it sounded familiar even with the first listen.
It was 1963, and Paul McCartney was 21.
“I fell out of bed. I had a piano by my bedside and I must have dreamed it because I tumbled out of bed and put my hands on the piano keys and I had a tune in my head. It was just all there, a complete thing. I couldn’t believe it, it came too easy.”49
The song seemed so familiar to Paul, that he wondered if he’d heard it elsewhere. So he played the melody for the other Beatles. They told him they’d never heard it anywhere else. He played it for other musicians and friends.
“In fact I didn’t believe I’d written it. I thought maybe I’d heard it before, it was some other tune, and I went round for weeks playing the chords of the song for people, asking them, ‘Is this like something? I think I’ve written it.’ And people would say, ‘No, it’s not like anything else, but it’s good.’”50
Paul said it felt like he was “handing in something you’d found at the police station and waiting to see if anyone claimed it. After two weeks they hadn’t in this case so I felt entitled to collect it and call it my property.”51
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