The Rhythm of Learning and Growth

It dawned on me recently that I need more romance in my life. But the kind of romance I’m talking about has nothing to do with my marriage or my love life.

I first read “The Rhythm of Education” by philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (let’s call him ANW) back in 1989. I instantly loved it. It spoke to something deep within me. I have come back to it over and over again in my life. It was a guiding light for me when I founded an innovative school. And it continues to be a reminder when things feel out of balance. So, indulge me for a minute while I hit the highlights of what a British philosopher said over a hundred years ago that rocked my world.

• There are three stages that all successful learning and growth must go through – romance, precision, and generalization.
• The romance stage is all about the emotional experience of encountering something with fresh eyes and beholding the possibilities contained within it.
• The precision stage is when we get our hands dirty with practice and structure, rules, formulas, and principles.
• And then comes generalization, which can also be thought of as mastery. But – flagging this here – Whitehead describes this as “a return to romance with the added advantage of classified ideas and relevant technique.” 
• Education, learning, and growth, when successful, is a continual repetition of these cycles. And, since it’s more cyclical than linear, it might be more appropriate to call these “states” rather than “stages”. 
• ANW wasn’t just talking about school or professional learning. He specifically said this maps onto our “interior spiritual life” too.

Okay, so hopefully you’ve got the big picture:

Successful learning and growth cycles through states of romance — precision — mastery.

The school I founded with my wife 20 years ago was based on the insight that most learning in schools skips over the romance state, and insists on precision prematurely. So we designed a school that helped students feel the emotional pull of ideas rooted in the relevance of the real world.

More recently, as a coach for more than 10 years, I’ve seen this rhythm be neglected on both sides of the coaching conversation. 

On the one side, there are coaches who are full of passion but haven’t yet invested in the precision of what it means to be excellent in service of the client. Or coaches who have lots of training and certifications, but who overlook the transformative power of feeling unconditional love for their client.

On the other side, I meet with so many clients who have gotten swept up in precision and have lost touch with the romance. This shows up in all sorts of ways: an obsession with productivity, time and tasks; a misunderstanding of leadership in terms of what one is doing instead of how one is being; losing all enjoyment in work, or a focus on making money as an end in itself. 

And the flip side shows up too. Too much romance and not enough precision often looks like a running away from challenge or conflict. Or it can be sneaky and show up in the disguise of spiritual language that tries to paint effort, discipline, or practice as wholly unnecessary.  

Those clients who are striving for mastery tend to overlook ANW’s little footnote about mastery being a return to romance seasoned with craftsmanship. These clients forget that the state of mastery is about dropping out of one’s head and into a state of intuition, reflexiveness and embodiment, trusting that the skills are there, the work has already been put in.

While most who know me well know that I’m a very heart-centered person, it surprised me recently to realize that it’s the romance side of the equation that I had let slip in my world. What I mean is that, over the last few years, because of the story I told myself about all that was on my plate, I found myself less and less in touch with what lit me up for no other reason than just lighting me up. 

So I challenged myself to look for “sparks.” I pulled dusty books of poetry off the shelf. I listened to podcasts on topics that I had no idea about. I said yes to a friend’s invitation to find myself an “impossible” project. 

And I’ve been amazed at what’s been happening as I follow this romance, this mix of enjoyment and curiosity, this little twinkling that I feel. 

In my professional world, I’m learning like mad. I’m enrolled in new courses and learning new skills. Daydreaming about connecting the dots of big ideas while I’m exercising or while drifting off to sleep. Without noticing, romance has already led seamlessly into precision. 

In contrast, I’ve been sticking with the romance a lot longer in the creative realm. Ever since 4th grade, when Ms. Brown told me that I wasn’t that good at art, I kinda gave up on making art. But recently I decided my “impossible” project is to make large-scale metal art. I’ve never done anything like that before. But I’m having so much fun daydreaming about what kind of metal art I want to make, and how I’m going to prototype different pieces, and checking out art galleries and images on the web for inspiration. Precision may take a while for this project. Or it may not. But I’m way more excited to figure it out because of the head of romance steam that’s building up.

So how’s the rhythm showing up in your life? Is there a different state that would help? 

More romance heart aliveness wonder? 

More precision head skill practice structure? 

More mastery gut embodiment intuition?

Reach out if a brief conversation might help point you to your own wisdom about what you want to experiment with to feel the rhythm again.