How My Approach to Work Has Changed

When I was young, I acted on whatever came to mind: learning to code, making animations, shooting short films. But these were all small projects. When I wanted to make a project larger, I would imagine the result and plan extensively in advance. Yet I kept failing. Drawing up a plan before starting made it harder to act. Uncertainty and unexpected problems greatly reduced my ability to carry it out. In practice, I kept doing work that was simple, predictable, and comfortable.

Writing a small program, for example, is not difficult. Its simplicity makes it enjoyable. A software system is different: it is full of uncertainty, technical complexity, and problems. Shooting a few clips is easy, but writing a script, developing the work, and filming it are difficult.

Similarly, exercises and classes happened to teach me how to get high scores. They did not teach me how to do something well, especially something real and complex: purchasing, negotiating, or making something with other people. For a long time, I did not realize that these failures were normal. They were not a sign that I needed more planning or more skills. I was failing because I had no next step.

When an attempt fails, when I get stuck, or when I finish a stage, what should I do next? Have I actually learned from experience what the next step should be? Have I accepted that even a useful attempt can fail?

Until then, my results had always been small, partial achievements: a few shots within a complete film, or a small piece of code within a complete software system. So, in work or anything else, I can set a small goal and try to reach it. Then, whether I run into a problem or have some success, I can stop and think about what to do next.

I learned these skills without intending to. No one had guided me through this before. At first, I started cycling to pass the time. Gradually, I began to focus on improving my performance, making plans, and adjusting them based on feedback. Then I started strength training. What began by chance changed my body. It also helped me believe that I could change things. That belief is the basis for accepting failure. If I accept that nothing can change, I will naturally do nothing.

I used to get things done at random. Now I apply this approach to everything. I try to break a large goal into smaller ones, such as going to the gym four times a week or increasing my bench press from 50 kg to 70 kg. Then I use feedback from my body to assess my progress and what I could do next. At first, my performance barely changed. I trained more often, improved my technique, and increased my training volume. Things got a little better. This is also how I learned to do pull-ups and reach the Wude ending in the game Sifu. I believe that some training can always make me stronger.

In the past, I tried to find a guaranteed method through words and theory. Now I prefer to quickly find something I can try and get feedback soon. This is the same as the “fail-fast” approach used in engineering. It greatly reduces the effort needed to take action and helps me quickly identify the most important problem.

Consider weight loss. Some people need to eat less; others need more exercise. Some may first need to improve their physical capacity so they can do enough exercise to affect their weight. There are many possibilities, but it is hard to know them in advance. We can know all the principles and still know nothing about our current situation, our goals, or the unexpected events we will face. We cannot resolve these problems before encountering the possibility of failure. In other words, do not expect to understand something before it actually happens.

My past attempts have given me this belief: if I keep doing things, some will succeed over time. What if I fail? Then I fail. But some things will work out.

Pay attention to each failure and accept it. What does not kill you makes you stronger.