Barre and Mahjong: Moving From Learning to Proficiency to Good

When we all finally crawled out of the haze of COVID lockdowns, I could not wait to get back into the gym. Working out has always been my go-to stress management tool, and I was ready to dive back in.

The gym I joined had more options than I was used to. I started with old favorites spin and yoga. Then I tried Pilates. Then I took the leap into something called barre... a workout inspired by dancers that promised to work your whole body through small, precise, dancer-style movements.

I had no idea what I was doing. I was wobbly, I was off-beat, and I definitely could not find a "tuck" if my life depended on it.

Fast forward three years — with two foot surgeries somewhere in the middle of that timeline —and I can now do every move in the class. I am not going to pretend I move like a ballerina. But I get through the whole hour, and I can follow along with nearly everything the instructor throws at us. That did not happen because I was talented. It happened because I kept showing up.

Enter Mahjong

More recently, I picked up Mahjong. And I mean just picked up... I am still very much in the wobbly-barre-class phase of this one.

The first thing I learned is that Mahjong has more rules than the World Cup has soccer regulations. I sat down for my first few games completely lost, trying to keep track of tiles, patterns, and strategy all at once while the superstars around the table seemed to just know what they were doing.

But as the weeks went on and the games kept coming, something shifted. I started recognizing patterns. I stopped needing reminders for the basics. Game by game, my proficiency crept up. I am still not good — not yet — but every week, every hand, I can feel my confidence and my skill building in a way they simply were not a month ago.

And, honestly, the friendship and snacks around that table have become half the reason I keep coming back.

Between the barre studio and the Mahjong table, I have been living out the same lesson twice at the same time:

Repetition builds proficiency.

Repetition builds confidence.

Repetition builds strength.

Thoughts From Smart People (and Our Moms)

It turns out there is real research behind what I was feeling in both of those rooms.

Psychologists Anders Ericsson, Ralf Krampe, and Clemens Tesch-Römer studied this directly in their 1993 paper, "The Role of Deliberate Practice in the Acquisition of Expert Performance," published in Psychological Review.

Their core idea: "Deliberate practice is a highly structured activity, the explicit goal of which is to improve performance." Not just repetition for repetition's sake, but focused, effortful practice aimed at specific weaknesses, with feedback along the way.

Malcolm Gladwell picked up a piece of that research in his 2008 book Outliers and turned it into the now-famous "10,000-hour rule" the idea that roughly 10,000 hours of practice at anything produces expert-level mastery, whether you're the Beatles or Bill Gates.

It is a catchy, motivating idea, even if researchers later pointed out that Gladwell simplified it more than the original science supported, the real finding was about the quality of practice as much as the quantity, and 10,000 was more of an average than a magic threshold. Either way, the underlying truth holds up: showing up, again and again, in a focused way, is what moves you forward.

And of course, "practice makes perfect" is older than all of us. The phrase traces back to English proverbs from the 1550s and 1560s, when it was originally phrased "use makes perfect." It shows up in writing as far back as John Quincy Adams' diary in 1761. 

My own mother said her version of it while I studied for spelling tests as a kid — sometimes through my tears, if I am being honest.

Turns out Barbara Horowitz and John Quincy Adams were making the same point.

Why This Is Critical in Fundraising

Do you remember making your first call to a stranger to talk about your nonprofit's mission?

I am willing to bet it was awkward and uncomfortable. Your voice probably shook a little. You maybe talked too fast, or forgot the one thing you meant to say.

Then came the second call. And the third. Slowly, you learned what actually resonated with potential donors — which stories landed, which asks felt natural, which pauses were okay to sit in. And at some point, without really noticing the exact moment it happened, it stopped being uncomfortable.

Telling the story of your mission. Making the ask. Writing your first thank-you note. None of it came naturally on day one. It took repetition. It took deliberate practice. It took practice — the unglamorous, occasionally clumsy, keep-showing-up-anyway kind to become proficient at any of it.

You do not have to be graceful the first time you do something hard for your mission, any more than I was graceful in my first barre class or my first Mahjong game. 

You just must keep showing up to the next call, the next ask, the next hand. Proficiency and eventually, being good is built one rep at a time.

Looking for some help with those first steps of learning? Reach out to Team Kat & Mouse today!

__________________

Sources: Ericsson, Krampe, and Tesch-Römer, "The Role of Deliberate Practice in the Acquisition of Expert Performance," Psychological Review (1993); Malcolm Gladwell, Outliers (2008); on the origins of "practice makes perfect," see historical usage notes tracing the phrase to 1550s–60s English proverbs and John Quincy Adams' 1761 diary.