mastery — Meditations — Zen Masta Flash

None of what I’m writing here is new, and even the stages of mastery described below are borrowed from other sources, yet still I write.

Six months ago today my beard trimmer broke. The next day I looked for a new beard trimmer on Amazon and couldn’t decide which one was for me. They all seemed to lack some mystery feature that I absolutely needed in order to maintain the permanent 5 O’Clock Shadow that has been my signature look for my entire adult life.

Now, I’m unsure when I became so particular about beard trimmers, considering the one I was replacing had been a purchase from a drug store a full decade earlier and threatened to start a fire every time I plugged the US plug into the EU adapter, but, as they say, indecision itself is a decision and so that was the day I decided to grow out a beard to fully embrace my viking heritage.

Phase 1 - You don’t know what you don’t know

At first, within the first month or so, no one really noticed the new growth. At this point it was, if anything, a patchy curiosity. During this phase of expertise, most people were happy to ignore my meager efforts. I deluded myself into thinking I could go a couple more weeks before I absolutely needed to buy a new beard trimmer.

Phase 2 - You know what you don’t know

Around the two month mark it hit the length where concerned friends and family members felt compelled to ask about my wellbeing, or offer questions like, “how long do you think you’ll grow it” or politely comment on it like they would to a neighbor’s primary school science project (always a volcano, always messier than anticipated). Still, I hadn’t decided on a trimmer and so I continued down the path of excellence, adopting the go-to explanation that I’d cut it when I got tired of it, while hating it every single day.

Phase 3 - You know what you know

Months 3-4 were when things really started to take off. For these 60 days I consumed more content on beard growth and maintenance than during my entire 36 previous years of life combined and as my knowledge increased through consumption, so too was I offered an equal quantity of unsolicited wisdom from other beard-bearers. It was also during this time when I incurred the most setbacks in my journey to excellence, and developed a myriad of trust issues along the way.

As it turns out, your friend’s glorious chin mane might require different care than the wiry thicket enrobing your face, and the barber who knows every cowlick or curl on the top of your head might have a wildly different “vision” for what a beard should be. This is when I finally bought a beard trimmer.

Phase 4 - You don’t know what you know

From that last unfortunate barber-induced beard trauma 2 months ago until today, something foundational has shifted. Besides my maintenance routine becoming nearly automatic, now having an entire shelf in my bathroom dedicated to beard grooming, and my own comfortability with this new identity, the attitude and questions about my beard have also shifted.

Where once my furry face was met with concerned glances I now see impressed head nods, questions about my intentions have now become meaningful compliments, and unsolicited suggestions have become requests for advice, or comments like, “I wish my beard could grow like that but it’s too patchy.”

The point behind all of this, aside from telling you how epic I feel with my beard, is that we’ve all gone through these phases on our pursuit for knowledge, skills, or anything else that is difficult. They’re predictable. There will be a time when you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, there will be a time when you think you know what you’re doing but the onslaught of well-intentioned onlookers will have you doubting, and eventually there will be a time when others seek guidance from you.

These phases take time, they can be frustrating, and they take patience, but knowing they’re predictable might just help you to grow an awesome beard like mine.