Sometimes we hesitate to take the first step toward something new because the thought of processing unfamiliar information feels exhausting. And even once we’ve started, continuing can feel just as hard. Staying with something difficult, especially when progress feels slow or uncertain, can be frustrating and even overwhelming.
But why? Why do beginning and continuing so often feel uncomfortable? Why does growth, even growth we want, feel like something we have to endure rather than move toward?
Wyoming
This past weekend, my husband and I went cross-country skiing in Grand Teton National Park. It was beautiful: trees blanketed in snow and distant mountains dusted in white. The trail was hilly, the conditions were tricky, and I was falling. Constantly. I kept using my poles to pull myself back up, again and again. I felt frustrated and embarrassed, and I fought back tears as I trudged along.
I’ve been downhill skiing since I was three years old, so my mind kept insisting, “How hard can this really be? I’ve been on skis forever.” But as I talked through my feelings with my husband, I realized what was going on. I was approaching each hill with an expert’s mindset instead of a beginner’s. Rather than embracing the challenge and treating each fall as part of learning, I kept thinking, “Why can’t I do this? I should be better than this.”
As I slowly shifted my mindset, remembering that I am always learning and that life itself is a process of learning, I started to relax. I looked up and took in the quiet of the woods, the snow, and the rhythm of moving forward. I kept falling. But at a certain point, it became funny.
Investing asks the same thing of us. It’s often framed as complex and intimidating, something only experts can navigate. But just like skiing, every misstep is part of learning how to move. Every mistake and every unfamiliar concept is an invitation to understand companies, markets, and the economy a little more deeply.
Of course, none of this works without risk management. We’re human, and one of the few guarantees in life is that we’ll make mistakes. Knowing that, I don’t ski no-fall terrain on my cross-country skis. And I never put an unmanageable portion of my life savings into any single investment.
It’s part of why I left international tax law for finance and eventually built my own investment model. I am always learning, and that process has been deeply satisfying, both intellectually and financially. It has helped me build the resources that support a life I once only imagined.
The truth is, there is no final expert level in investing. The economy shifts, innovation evolves, and the terrain changes beneath you. But if you stay curious, stay open, and keep adapting, you begin to find your balance. You start to look up from your footing. And just like on that snowy trail, you realize you’re moving forward.