Over the years, when I talk to people about mathematics, reading, writing, and even artistic pursuits, like painting and drawing, I encounter this block that says, “I’m not smart enough to do that.”
This idea of not being smart enough prevents many people from trying anything new. It prevents them from stepping out of their comfort zone. It prevents them from exploring new interests and skills.
But this idea is largely just an excuse. It’s not true. Given enough time and effort, anyone with reasonable intelligence can master almost any skill, whether that’s writing or playing piano. That said, most people shy away from difficult, focused effort.
The question then becomes, do people actually believe that they’re not smart enough, or is it a useful lie that keeps us from stepping into discomfort?
My own sense is that stuck emotions have a bigger influence. The excuse of “not smart enough” is less about intelligence and more about dodging difficult emotions.
Here’s a story from my own life:
I don’t believe in writer’s block, but there was one point in my life where I really struggled to get writing done. This was a few years ago when I was re-writing Chasing the Sun for the third time. I’d received feedback from a family member that made me feel utterly ashamed.
The conversation triggered in me the deepest, most horrible, nauseating shame. To some extent, I knew that this was not my baggage, but that did not relieve me of the suffering. And I knew that shame was the reason why I was avoiding writing. But knowing this didn’t help, because I could not circumvent it.
After a few days, I realised that the shame would not fade unless I faced it. I needed to get comfortable with the discomfort. Before every writing session, I would put on a guided meditation and explore my feelings about the situation. I sat in silence and felt what was there. It felt horrible. At first, I could not sustain long periods of this. I had to dip into the emotion and then step away, do something else for a while.
During that time, my writing sessions weren’t very productive. But it didn’t matter. Slowly but surely, the shame faded. It took a week or two—not that long, given that it takes me about 8 to 12 months to finish a fiction story of that length.
I’m pretty sure that if I did not face that shame, Chasing the Sun would still be an unwritten manuscript on my laptop. It wasn’t intelligence that helped me finish the story in the end. It was a willingness to face an odious emotion.
I often think that whatever intelligence we’re born with has little to do with what we eventually contribute. Intelligence is not completely unimportant. But it seems to me that emotional maturity is by far more significant. Additionally, it’s something that can be cultivated by stepping out of our comfort zone.