Have you ever met someone who simply drips wisdom? You sit with them at a table and, no matter what you ask, they have beautiful things to say about the subject. They have short tweetable words for you and illustrations that simply blow your mind. How can they be such experts?
What do they have that you don’t? They have wrestling experience.
Most people never wrestle with their own beliefs. They never have to face inconsistencies in their logic. They never have to identify areas where they may be ignorant about a subject. They never come to the end of their immediate knowledge, causing them to have to research to learn more.
I’ve found in writing books, I’ve had to truly wrestle with my thoughts. As I logically lay out my thoughts, I consistently find holes in my logic. I frequently find weak arguments or poor connections that seemed strong in my head. I find myself having to scroll through my life stories for ways to illustrate the things I’m trying to communicate—and if I can’t find a true story, I have to make one up.
I’m wrestling with my work. And I’m finding I’m becoming an expert on some things. That is to say, I’m certainly not the final authority. I don’t have all the wisdom of the ages on any topics.
But when I get a call at 8am for an interview I completely forgot was on my calendar, I have a storehouse of thoughts and illustrations at my disposal. Even before my voice has returned to its normal octave, I can share decent thoughts on a topic.
I’m still working to become an expert. I’m still wrestling. I’m still editing. I’m still rewording. But I’m realizing this is the path the expert-dom. It’s through pain. Struggle. Wrestling. Fighting. It isn’t easy becoming an expert.