Don’t take it too fast.
This was the advice I got from some friends as I headed to the starting line of a fun run.
These words were sensible.
I had just returned to running from an injury. And there were no medals to be won in this event.
Plus, it was my second run of the day. And I’d felt some soreness in my ankle and knee in my first go-around that morning.
So, I heeded the advice — for a bit.
I jogged nice and easy for the first mile. But then I felt the itch to let it fly. And I scratched that itch.
I breezed my way through the second mile, and the third. I ultimately crossed the finish line with a head of steam.
I felt great — for a moment. Then I didn’t.
My knee and ankle were suddenly angry again. Walking became difficult. And the pain persisted for days.
I would soon be shut down from running once again. And I would eventually require surgery, keeping me from my passion for much longer.
I had mistaken discouragement for doubt. And I’d end up paying the price.
Let’s prove them all wrong.
It’s the rallying cry found in just about every underdog sports movie.
Sure, it’s cliché. But these words draw on a fundamental truth.
Doubt, you see, can be a powerful motivator. When others don’t show belief in us, it can put a chip on our shoulder. It can motivate us to take our performance to another level.
We’re hard-wired to say no to doubt. We’re inclined to reject the doubter’s narrative — unless that doubter is us.
But discouragement — that’s something wholly different.
Discouragement is meant to both advise and protect. While doubt wagers that we can’t do something, discouragement tells us to not even try.
This might make discouragement seem like the harshest of rebukes. But such a perception is merely a mirage.
Why? Well, consider who’s delivering the message.
Those who discourage us are often looking out for our best interests. Those who doubt us aren’t looking out for us at all.
These are two extremely different sentiments. Yet, they’re two sentiments that can easily get conflated.
When we consider discouragement as nothing but doubt, we’re tempted to run the stop sign. We feel obligated to do the thing we’ve been warned against. And we are doomed to travel a path to sabotage.
It’s all too easy to fall into this trap. But avoiding the danger can be tricky.
I deliberated for an entire weekend.
I had been accepted to two business school programs. And now, I had to decide which one I’d attend.
So, I thought about it. I prayed about it. And after a couple sleepless nights, I came to a decision.
I felt confident in my choice. But then I informed my parents.
They were none too thrilled. Instead of celebrating my decision, they implored me to go with the other program.
I was annoyed by this development. All that work I’d done had been categorically dismissed.
Was I not an adult capable of making my own decisions?
But I thought about where my parents were coming from. They wanted the best for me, and their rationale for reversing my choice was sound. It would be worthwhile to take another look.
So, I did just that.
I reconsidered the points I’d laid out in favor of the program I’d decided on. And I weighed those against the points my parents had made in favor of the other one.
In the end, I stuck with my choice — rebuffing my parents. And ultimately, this decision paid off in spades.
I made new friends and business connections. I got a top-notch education. And I was able to take my career to the next level.
Yes, it turns out the discouragement from my parents was unfounded. Passing it up did me well, but it also set a dangerous precedent.
Indeed, this precedent might have spurred me to take off during that infamous fun run. Sure, others might have claimed to know what was best for me. But hadn’t I proven I could figure that out for myself?
No. I most certainly had not.
Act with discretion.
This advice seems simple, but it’s deceptively complex.
When there’s no line drawn in the sand, we can struggle to find our way. Each decision we make is a high stakes bet. One that could make our future — or destroy it.
Discouragement is but one path to the discretion quagmire. But it’s a particularly treacherous one. And it leaves us uniquely vulnerable.
You see, discouragement flies in the face of everything we’ve been taught. It disrupts everything we believe.
Yes, from our earliest days, we’re conditioned to power through adversity. More than two centuries of American stick-to-it-iveness have shown the value of mettle.
Achievement is unlocked through doing. So, when someone we trust tells us not to do something, they better be right. Otherwise, they’ve just led us astray.
This is the issue at the heart of discouragement. The messenger views it as a clear-cut edict. The recipient isn’t quite so sure the message is credible.
It all amounts to a high-stakes staredown.
Maybe it’s time to continue the conversation. Instead of instantly reacting to words of skepticism, maybe we should ask why.
Why are we facing discouragement? What’s the rationale for it? What’s the evidence behind it?
This context — or lack thereof — can help us navigate uncertain waters. It can help us determine whether to heed the edicts of discouragement, or to defy them.
Now, this strategy is not foolproof. The future is inherently uncertain, after all.
There will be times when discouragement causes us to be too conservative. And there will be times when defiance proves foolhardy. Freer discourse won’t eradicate either error.
But by asking more questions, we can come closer to clarity. We can cut down on the guesswork and gain confidence in our decisions.
And we can stop conflating discouragement with doubt.
Let’s get to it.