The yellow and blue circus tents beckoned. The excitement of the crowd was palpable as we made our way up into the big top and down to our seats. High above us elaborate rigging held light operators, sound engineers and the ropes, trapezes, and swings that are the hallmark of this extraordinary production. The lights dimmed and innumerable neon-clad jungle creatures began to slither across the floor and shimmy up the bamboo struts that encircled the round stage. We held our breath as an angel with a twenty-foot feathered wingspan descended from the ceiling elegantly spinning and flipping and effortlessly flying in the air 30 feet above our eyes.

We all love to be entertained—dazzled, shocked, awed, inspired. In the presence of greatness we are enlarged by the knowledge of the vast range and capability of the human body and mind and spirit. We watch the 'impossible' with the glee of five year olds, delighted to have our notions of what can't be done smashed to smithereens in front of our eyes. As a species we are inexorably drawn to mastery, enthralled by the accomplishment and the commitment it embodies. The juggler that night at the circus took his art to an altogether different place. First, he wowed us with the sheer virtuosity of his craft—juggling a variety of things faster than seemed humanly possible. He ran as he juggled, he hopped as he juggled. Like The Cat in the Hat he spun balls upon balls while balancing the whole contraption on his index finger. He juggled things around his neck, over his head, behind his back and through his legs. He raced across the stage throwing hats into the air and capturing each of them on this head as he juggled the other seven. He even juggled three balls in and out of his mouth, spitting them 20 and 30 feet into the vaulted dome –“look Ma, no hands!” He brought the audience to its feet. We could not contain ourselves. The sheer virtuosity of the performance and this man's evident delight in his skill were a wonderful reminder to us all to push hard at the edges of our talents so that we can move from mere capability towards mastery.

Absent the motivating applause of a captivated crowd, how can we move ourselves out of the complacent space of 'good enough' to the terra incognita of excellence? What will we gain? Why is it worth the effort? Mastery is a journey. There is no destination that we can mark on a map to 'know' when we get there. In whatever area of your life you choose to move toward mastery, the road will continue to unfold before you as your skills improve continually. If you are willing to stay the course, mastery is available to every single one of us—whether you are learning how to touch type, bake a pie or make a formal business presentation. There are two key reasons most of us unconsciously back off from a wholehearted commitment to mastery: 1. Our culture lauds the quick fix, the instant hit, immediate gratification. But mastery lives in another world altogether, and to hold fast to our desire to get really good at anything, the first thing we need to embrace is that the journey is a long one. It takes time to excel. In fact, one of the great pleasures of mastery is that by definition someone who is masterful has invested enormous time with powerful focus and commitment. The reason the circus juggler so captivated me and the audience, was not only his tour de force virtuosity. Just as exhilarating was our collective appreciation of what it took for this man to get to this level of talent. 2. We give up when we plateau. Have you had the experience of working really hard at something, making meaningful progress and then for the longest time finding yourself unable to take your effort to the next level? Well, this is exactly the point where most people fall off the 'mastery wagon.' Their patience and faith in their own ability take them only so far, and they shrug their shoulders and accept that they've reached their own personal best. But nothing could be further from the truth. Plateau-ing is a natural part of learning. The plateau is where you consolidate your skills and internalize them so that they are second nature. The plateau is where your mind and body are getting ready for the next level of learning. So don't quit here! Continue to practice your skills, take delight in the progress you have already made and be patient. So my New Year's invitation to each of you is to work toward mastery in one area of your life. Your progress may be fast, it may be slow. You may feel like a klutz, a child or even a fool. No matter. Working toward excellence is a commitment toward your personal growth and an explicit acknowledgement of how very vast each of us is. And lighten up. Since there's nowhere 'to get' you might as well enjoy the journey and delight in every step you take. Happy New Year!