Slow Progress and Other Unchanging Ghosts
Yesterday I was doing an After Effects tutorial. I spent three to four hours trying to follow along with a seven-minute video.
It reminded me of all the times I started a ten-hour course and ended up dragging it out for years… not even exaggerating.
So, what’s going on here?
The first thing that comes to mind is, obviously, that I don’t fully dedicate myself to these trainings. But I also think it has to do with my natural learning rhythm, which is slower… It doesn’t feel good to admit it, but I think that’s just the way it is (or maybe I’m just using the wrong method for me). BUT that’s not today’s topic. Maybe I’ll talk about that another time. The real issue is, without a doubt, the frustration of falling behind, comparing yourself with a gifted version of you—someone who could at least finish a seven-minute tutorial in fifteen. Don’t we all wish we could? But what if it’s just not possible right now?
Do we die? No.
It’s okay to be the way you are. We need to remember that our brain is a mystery and works very differently depending on the situation, personality, and emotional state. Much of this isn’t something we chose, and I’d probably come to the same conclusion even if I judged my learning speed as “fast.”
Let’s unpack this a little. In that previous paragraph I mentioned three factors:
The situation. It’s not the same to do something without a deadline as it is with one where your life (and the universe’s existence) is at stake. The brain will focus on what matters most, probably release some hormones (I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard it everywhere), and go into “hyper-focus.” But that also depends on temperament. On the other hand, some people might freeze completely, with the brain refusing to cooperate thanks to some trauma or adaptive mental wiring.
Personality. Since personality is made up of things we sometimes control and sometimes don’t, our response to a given situation will always vary.
Emotional state. This depends on environment and one’s level of emotional regulation (which is also circumstantial).
The luckiest people will find themselves in an ideal mix: optimal situation, optimal personality for learning, and emotional balance. For them, learning flows easily.
But what if none of these factors are in place?
Like I said: nothing. Life goes on. But we’ll likely feel less confident when we see ourselves moving slower, and maybe we’ll think we’re less talented or capable than those who, randomly, we assume are more gifted.
Spoiler: we’ll never truly know. We can’t fairly judge another person’s process based on the little glimpse we see. Let’s assume everything is circumstantial and that a few people have simply changed those circumstances consciously.
The goal is to try to be part of that last group. But the decision isn’t absolute. We can’t just decide to have the perfect personality, emotional state, or external situation overnight. So what’s left?
—Surrender.
What? Who said that? 🤨
—Me. But not in that sense!
What I mean is: if every factor is against me, it’s better to surrender the illusion of control. Sadly, there’s no remote control. Everything moves along its natural course. A heavy ship can’t suddenly turn from right to left in seconds. It turns gradually. And though our way of learning isn’t something tangible, if it doesn’t show in results, it can still take an undefined amount of time. However long it takes—it doesn’t matter.
The important thing is to keep moving. Even five minutes a day can make a difference. In five minutes, you can have a breakthrough idea. Training the brain to recognize this helps build deep discipline—not the trendy “fake productivity” kind, but the one born from a real desire to create and bring unique ideas to life. And no, I’m not saying every time you sit down to learn you’ll have an epiphany. I’m saying even those dull moments when nothing seems to happen are secretly paving the new path.
Learning requires frustration. And frustration doesn’t always let you keep learning. Paradoxical, right? Frustration is just unmet expectations. It’s good to have high expectations of ourselves, but let’s be reasonable, and above all, let’s not torture ourselves by over-identifying with those moments.
My advice? Take a break and come back. That alone gives you an 80% success rate. (Says who? Me. Totally made up that number. But you can trust me. 🐾)
Learning and creating are complementary, aren’t they? What if each one needs its own timing in order to produce something truly REAL? Something truly OURS. Not the influencer’s, not the competitor’s.
—But Vivi, time is money and blah blah blah!
Good question.
—That wasn’t a—
Let me answer you. Hold my hand.
—…
Money isn’t everything.
—…but—
I know, I know: you’re doing video editing to make money, to get ahead, buy clothes, travel with your family, go to concerts, and so on. You wish it could all come easily. But no learning process is easy, especially if not all the factors are in place. Here’s the good news: the more we train our minds and skills through editing (or whatever we’re learning), the better we’ll be at it in the future. And yes, to learn and to create is to re-create yourself. Something priceless.
Money will come from your honesty (I can’t say 100% guaranteed, not all millionaires got there this way—but it’s my gut feeling). It will come from not being afraid of success, from moving at your own pace, and when things feel almost aligned (by your standards), stepping out to offer your services. Of course, it might even be better to do it before things are “perfectly” aligned. But balance matters. Try things out. If you see room to improve, work on that. If you can take on more projects, go for it. If not, ask yourself what’s missing, plan, and don’t get stuck: seek advice and keep learning. The process will differ for each person, but make sure it’s yours. Don’t compare. Don’t pressure yourself. Or do—if that helps you. You do you. But for me… constant comparison would turn me into a generic editor, with no metacognition, no unique perspective. Again—it all depends on your intentions, priorities, and desires.
Yes, I still want to earn good money as soon as possible. But I’m also certain I’m gaining something money can’t buy in this backstage process. Fast or slow, however natural it comes—that’s the path I want to follow. To create out of vocation, not charge out of vocation. And that way, it all makes sense. Create something valuable, and in return receive what’s necessary—sometimes money, sometimes learning to create better. That’s how you build a meaningful life. And a life with meaning is attractive. To others, and to an audience. People appreciate art—and even more so, the story and process of the artist, which is, in the end, their most important work.