Stationary Objects Always Win

If you've been reading these stories for a while, you've probably noticed a pattern.

Teenage James was... a character.

There are plenty of things I admire about my younger self.

He was adventurous.

Curious.

Prepared to have a go.

And he genuinely believed almost anything was possible.

But there are also moments that still leave me shaking my head.

Moments that taught me lessons I couldn't have learned any other way.

This is one of them.

Trying to Be Impressive

Like many teenagers before smartphones and driver's licences, my friends and I had to invent our own entertainment.

One Friday night, we were at our local church youth group with our mountain bikes.

There was, of course, another reason I was there.

A girl.

I'd convinced myself that if I demonstrated enough athletic ability, she'd suddenly realise I was clearly husband material.

Looking back, it was a deeply flawed strategy.

But fifteen-year-old James wasn't known for carefully evaluating risk.

Around the outside of the building ran a long veranda supported by large steel posts.

Someone had the brilliant idea of weaving our bikes between the poles as fast as we could.

Naturally, it became a competition.

Each lap got a little quicker.

A little tighter.

A little more impressive.

Or so we thought.

The Moment Physics Won

Eventually there came one final run.

I launched toward the first pole with all the confidence in the world.

The trouble was...

My confidence had begun travelling much faster than my ability.

Sir Isaac Newton was about to remind me that the laws of physics don't respond to enthusiasm.

One moment I was weaving effortlessly between the posts.

The next...

I was travelling directly into one.

At full speed.

The steel pole didn't move.

I did.

Apparently I was unconscious for a few minutes.

When I finally opened my eyes, there was a circle of concerned faces staring down at me.

My shoulder was screaming.

My ribs hurt.

And I had one overwhelming thought.

"Please don't let me throw up on her new shoes."

Summoning every ounce of self-control I could find, I somehow staggered to a nearby rubbish bin just in time.

Romance, it seemed, was no longer my highest priority.

A Trip to Emergency

Like every good youth leader, ours decided this situation was now well above their pay grade.

My parents were called.

Off to the emergency department we went.

The diagnosis wasn't ideal.

A concussion.

A broken collarbone.

Several broken ribs.

All earned in pursuit of... showing off.

Not exactly my proudest achievement.

Confidence Isn't the Problem

For years I laughed at that story because it was funny.

These days I laugh because it taught me something.

The problem wasn't confidence.

Confidence is a wonderful thing.

Without it we'd never try anything new.

We'd never apply for the job.

Start the business.

Lead the team.

Share the idea.

Or ask someone out.

Confidence isn't the enemy.

The danger comes when confidence runs too far ahead of competence.

That's when we begin writing cheques our skills can't yet cash.

As Maverick famously says in Top Gun,

"Your ego is writing cheques your body can't cash."

As a teenager, I knew exactly what that looked like.

Every Leader Has a Steel Pole

The longer I've led people, the more convinced I become that every leader eventually meets a steel pole.

Sometimes it's taking on more responsibility than we're ready for.

Sometimes it's speaking before we've listened.

Sometimes it's assuming experience in one area automatically makes us an expert in another.

Sometimes it's believing passion alone will compensate for preparation.

And sometimes...

It's confusing confidence with competence.

We've all been there.

I certainly have.

Leadership has a remarkable way of introducing us to the limits of our current capability.

Not to embarrass us.

To grow us.

The leaders who continue to grow aren't the ones who avoid collisions altogether.

They're the ones who are humble enough to learn from them.

Closing the Gap

One of the greatest privileges I have as a coach is helping leaders close the gap between confidence and competence.

Not by crushing their enthusiasm.

Quite the opposite.

By helping them develop the skills, judgement and self-awareness that allow their confidence to become well-founded.

Courage matters.

So does preparation.

Belief matters.

So does practice.

Confidence gets us started.

Competence keeps us moving.

Wisdom is knowing the difference.

Looking Back

I still smile when I think about that Friday night.

Not because of the broken bones.

Definitely not because of the vomiting.

And certainly not because my attempts to impress that girl were spectacularly unsuccessful.

As it turns out...

She wasn't the woman I married.

God had someone far better in mind.

The woman who would eventually become my wife wasn't won over by questionable mountain bike skills or my remarkable ability to crash into stationary objects.

She fell in love with me years later while I was playing the piano...

...wearing a pair of bright red corduroy jeans.

But that's a story for another day.

I smile because that young bloke never lacked courage.

He simply hadn't yet learned to pair it with wisdom.

The older I get, the more grateful I am for that lesson.

Not because it hurt.

Although it certainly did.

But because it taught me that growth isn't about becoming less courageous.

It's about becoming more capable.

I still want to be someone who's willing to take risks.

Who says yes to opportunities.

Who steps into the unknown.

The difference now is that I've learned there's value in slowing down long enough to prepare before accelerating.

In fact, I still carry a reminder of that lesson every single day.

My collarbone never quite healed straight.

If you look closely, there's still a noticeable bump where the bone knitted back together.

It's a permanent reminder that confidence without competence can leave a mark.

But it's also a reminder that some of life's greatest lessons stay with us long after the pain has faded.

Every time I notice that crooked collarbone, I'm reminded that wisdom isn't the absence of courage.

It's courage that has learned from experience.

Because confidence can take you a long way.

But eventually...

Every one of us meets a stationary object.

The goal isn't to stop taking risks.

It's to keep growing until your competence catches up with your courage.

Reflection

Before your next opportunity, ask yourself:

• Is my confidence matched by my preparation?

• Where do I need more practice before taking the next step?

• Am I trying to impress people, or am I trying to grow?

• What "steel pole" in my life has become one of my greatest teachers?

• How can I encourage confidence in others while also helping them build competence?

Because confidence gets you moving.

Competence keeps you moving.

Wisdom knows the difference.