The unexpected consequences of mastery : why moving gets harder when things matter more

I kept hearing a version of the same thing from my clients. At first, it surprised me. Now, I get it.

Most of the people I work with are in midlife — 40s, 50s, 60s. They’re badasses. They’ve done incredible things. Looking at them from the outside, you’d think: damn, impressive.

These aren’t people who’ve played small. And yet — they come to me with something that means a lot. Something that lights them up, keeps them up, or won’t let them go.

And they’re holding back — sometimes quietly, sometimes deliberately — from moving on it. That’s what stopped me at first. Holding back? These extraordinary people?

But I’ve come to believe it’s not a contradiction. It’s a consequence.

Holding back is what happens when two things are true: 1️⃣ We know too much. 2️⃣ We care a whole lot.

Knowing too much sounds like:

“I’ve tried that before, and it didn’t go well.”
“I can’t take that risk again — not with what’s on the line.”
“I want it… but I don’t know if I can afford to want it.”

By midlife, we’ve all earned our scars. We’ve learned a lot of lessons the hard way. And now we carry other people too — not just ourselves.

I call these the micro-cuts of midlife. Small bruises. Passing thoughts. Individually, not a big deal. But stacked together, they create hesitation around the things that matter most.

Caring a whole lot sounds like:

“I want this too much to fail at it.”

When we’re younger, we take swings just to see what happens. We’re lighter. Looser.

In midlife, we know ourselves better. We know what we want. We know the pain of swinging and missing. And that makes it riskier — not safer.

We hold back. We tell ourselves it’s not realistic. Not the right time. But really? We’re protecting ourselves from disappointment.

The path forward is often counterintuitive — because of course it is.

So what do we do with all that?

Here’s the part that might surprise you: The antidote isn’t more expertise. It’s not having a better plan. It’s beginner energy.

Beginner energy isn’t regression. It’s refinement.
It’s the strategy that keeps us in motion when perfectionism — or pressure — would stall us.

It’s the unexpected solution to knowing too much and caring deeply.
It’s what gets us moving — not because we’re naive — but because we’re curious.

What does beginner energy actually look like?

Beginner’s mind isn’t forgetting everything you know. It’s starting with questions and curiosity.

It sounds like:

  • Where have I done something like this before — and what did I learn from it?
  • What’s new and different this time?
  • Who around me is doing something like what I want to do?
  • What can I learn from watching them? From talking to them?

It’s taking small, light, experimental steps — not to have answers, but to see what happens.

Beginner energy isn’t about getting it right. It’s about getting curious and playing with possibilities. (Also: it’s a great excuse for not having a five-year plan.)

I’ve lived this, too.

I had the idea for this business in 2017 — but I didn’t leap. I knew too much to quit overnight. (Sound familiar?) So I got curious instead:

  • I created opportunities inside my job to explore the ideas I’d been mulling.
  • Later, I took a big corporate role to build the skills — and the financial cushion — I knew I’d need.
  • When I finally left, I still didn’t go all in. I consulted to pay the bills while I explored the idea on the side. (I called myself my own angel investor 😇).

You could call it a phased rollout. I called it “don’t freak out your nervous system.”

That wasn’t hesitation. That was beginner energy in practice — a curiosity about what it could be, rather than an expectation of what it had to be.

Here's where mastery gets in the way:

Beginner energy is easy when you’re actually new to the game. But once you’ve climbed a few hills, beginner energy gets harder — because you’ve mastered so much. You’re used to knowing how to move. Now, you’re being asked to learn again.

So later in life, beginner energy has to be a practice. You have to be deliberate and intentional about it.

So if there’s something you care about — but haven’t moved on —

🛠️ Try this: A beginner’s mind warm-up

There are two super-tools in the beginner's mind toolbox: inspiration and experimentation.

Here’s a designer’s secret most people don’t realize:

Great designers don’t start with action. They start with inspiration — and they guard it like a sacred step. (Often to the frustration of those who just want to get going.) But that early curiosity? That’s what makes everything that comes next more thoughtful, more impactful, and more likely to work.

So before you leap, look around. Get inspired — on purpose.

1️⃣ Pick one thing you care about but have been circling.

2️⃣ Then find something small to inspire you in that realm. The goal isn’t progress. It’s curiosity. (Remember curiosity? It hasn’t ghosted you — it’s just been waiting for an invitation.)

Here’s what that might look like:

🎤 Have a creative project in mind? Go to a student exhibition and see how they got started.

💼 Exploring a career shift? Find a conference or a volunteer opportunity and spend half a day in the space.

📱 Want to reconnect with someone you’re estranged from? Spend a week noticing how you stay in touch with people you do feel close to. What are your go-to moves?

Stay in motion. Keep it light.

Beginner energy doesn’t mean forgetting what you know. It means giving yourself permission to move before you know it all.

Because the things that matter most — the relationships, the creative work, the next expression of your potential — won’t wait for mastery. They’ll ask you to begin.

That’s not a flaw. That’s the path.

P.S. I’m putting together a guide with small, safe starting points for people who want to keep moving — especially when it matters most. Reply if you’d like me to send it your way when it’s ready.

And if you were forwarded this, a new drop comes out on Fridays.

To a weekend of new beginnings,
Amy

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The Liminal Dispatch

Thoughtful insights, smart experiments, and a touch of mischief delivered Fridays. I’m Amy Bonsall—sharp questioner, creative nudger, architect of brave experiments, and liminal guide. I help high-achievers navigate the space between what was and what’s next. I’m a former IDEO exec, Harvard Business Review author, and coach to ambitious humans making quiet (and not-so-quiet) shifts. Each week, I send a short note to help you move forward—with clarity, momentum, and just the right amount of mischief.