We love watching people do things well.

High level performance of just about any kind is captivating.  Doesn’t matter if you know much about what you’re seeing or not.

I watched Olympic curling in person.  Really, curling.  I have no idea what they’re doing, but it was amazing!  All that sweeping and sliding. I loved the Swiss contingency sitting in front of us singing what I can only assume were powerfully patriotic national songs as they rose up and down from their seats in unison.  Now here is a people who know what real curling is!

I don’t surf, ski jump, or race horses, but I can tell when each looks good.  We recognize smoothness and precision in the world around us.

Grace triumphs.

Economy of motion transcends fields and looks familiar on a soccer pitch, tennis court, or stage.

When a skilled chef works with a knife, we see control, fluidity.  When we watch a mason maneuver mortar and smooth it with a trowel, it looks easy because of the number of hours it was anything but.

Witnessing greatness is fun.  But, we also we enjoy watching people improve at something they didn’t do so well just a little while ago.

I see this every day as a swim coach.  Small adjustments for our swimmers that, if they keep their heads in the right place, allow them to work through that awkward phase of change and come out the other side improved, sharper.

My son learned to walk less than a year ago.  You can bet I’ve seen a lot of growth between that day last March and a few months ago when he climbed the first two steps from our living room with ease, climbed back down a step to point to the one he would jump over, climbed up again, and jumped down to the floor.  Like a tiny Babe Ruth calling his shot.

He doesn’t always stick the landing, but he still jumps.

We don’t always do things well, but we can do them better.  And better again.  And still better until we begin to do them well.

You won’t always stick the landing, but you can still decide to jump.