I almost got married once.

We had a date picked out. We started planning for the wedding—colors, invites, what kind of food we’d have at the reception, and who’d be in the wedding party. She looked at dresses and rings with sisters and friends. I even asked her father for permission (and got it).

Everything was good to go and we were excited. I was especially excited for lavender lemonade at the reception. It looked amazingly refreshing for a July wedding—especially considering I’d be wearing a tux get toasty way too easily.

lavender-lemonade

But even beyond the lemonade, we were looking forward to starting our lives together…

Jump ahead several months. She spent the spring and summer away visiting friends and family while I finished up my last couple classes of college. She returned days before my graduation day in August.

Remember how we were getting married in July?

The wedding date had come and gone and we weren’t even engaged.

Things had changed. We weren’t communicating. And there were days during her trip that we didn’t talk at all—not even a simple text message. It was hard. Our relationship went from wedding planning to silence. Most nights we didn’t do anything but sit on the couch and quietly watch Prison Break on Netflix.

Friends and family didn’t know what was happening and we were sick of getting asked. For one, everybody kept asking questions. Why aren’t you engaged? When are you getting engaged? Have you gotten a ring yet? Or, “Why don’t y’all ever touch anymore?” from her Texan roommate Lindsey.

Worse than the questions, was the fact that we didn’t have an answer. We didn’t know what was happening.

But we knew what wasn’t happening. We weren’t getting engaged anytime soon. At that point, we were hardly even in friendship, let alone in love.

Before she left that spring and summer, things were bad. Without communication, there was no connection. The zeal and excitement we once had? Faded. And the relationship limped along for months. Neither of us wanted to pull the trigger on getting engaged or ending it.

One night, as we sat beside each other in the darkness that followed Prison Break credits, I broke the stiff silence…

“I’m your best friend, but you don’t even treat me like a friend. Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

I was terrified to say it because I knew how it was going to sound. I was starved, and pleading, for connection. I feared her answer would be she didn’t love me anymore.

But what I heard was worse…

“I don’t know,” and more silence.

The night before my commencement we finally broke up. We both saw it coming. We both knew it needed to happen. It was amicable. And just like every couple ever, we said we’d still be friends.

But it was hard.

The timing was awful. In the course of about 12 hours, my entire world drastically changed. I hugged the girl I thought I was going to marry for the last time and bid farewell to the school I had called home for years.

Suddenly, everything was different.

Looking back, it’s clear to see that I made countless mistakes in that relationship—especially towards the end. I mean, I was a kid. Of course I did. But I’ve also learned from those mistakes. Most notably, the importance of communication, connection, and vulnerability in any of my relationships (family, friends, and dating).

By pure coincidence—and maybe a little divine intervention—I started reading The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown right after we broke up. So much of the book was exactly what I needed to hear. That’s when my not-so-secret crush on Brené Brown began. That’s also when my not-so-secret crush on communication, connection, and vulnerability began.

I learned from my numerous mistakes in that relationship. And it changed my life.

Failing Forward

Every experience we’ve ever had and will ever have serve as an opportunity for us to learn. Some of the most powerful learning experiences of life come after a bitter failure and terrible mistakes. For me, I failed to make that relationship work and we broke up the night before graduation.

Despite how hard that was, I learned a ton.

Michael Jordan said, “I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.” Failure is but a stepping-stone to success in a greater work.

Don’t just fail. Fail forward.

Learn, grow, and simply try it again.

On a micro-level, that’s what happens during that infamous 10,000 hour climb to mastery. It’s not 10,000 hours of perfect practice. It’s 10,000 hours of trial and error. Of learning from your own experiences. Of finding one thing that works after finding hundreds of things that don’t.

Macklemore even gives this principle a shout out in Ten Thousand Hours, “The greats weren’t great because at birth they could paint. The greats were great because they paint a lot.”

Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000-hour brand of mastery is born from years of consistent and persistent failure. And considering how popular Outliers is, a lot of people agree.

outliers

But I’m not one of them.

Don’t get me wrong, I think his point has a lot of merit and I loved the book. I mean, you’ve got to put in the work. But you don’t necessarily have to struggle through 10,000 hours of mistakes and failure on your road to mastery.

There’s a better way.

Mentorship: The Mastery Fast Track

Smart people learn from their own mistakes. But truly wise people learn from the mistakes of others.

It’s one thing to touch a hot stove, get burned, and never touch a hot stove again. It’s another to have a friend tell you about the time they touched a hot stove and learn to never touch a hot stove at all.

The latter saves you all sorts of pain (and Neosporin).

In the hero’s journey, Joseph Campbell notes that a mentor is integral in helping the hero cross the threshold from their ordinary world (like Privet Drive) into an extraordinary one (like Hogwarts).

The heroes in our favorite stories and even in our own lives—that means you—follow this archetypal pattern.

MentorHarry Potter had Dumbledore. Danny Larusso had Miyagi.

Luke Skywalker had Obi Wan.

Neo had Morpheus. Frodo Baggins had Gandalf. Tim Riggins had Coach Taylor. Katniss Everdeen had Haymitch—and a super stylish Lenny Kravitz.

But who do you have?

No matter what you do—or want to do—you need a mentor. You need somebody you can look to and learn from. Someone who’s lived the struggle, the climb, the success, and the failure on the path to mastering your chosen craft.

The road to mastery is long, but it’s faster in the carpool lane.

An Indirect Mentor

You don’t even have to meet to be mentored. Today, you can learn from successful experts without even leaving your couch.

We live in a world where content is king. It’s constantly being created and consumed. We have instant access to everything from hilarious Buzzfeed videos to life-changing TED talks. (And both get millions of views.)

It doesn’t matter if it’s a video, book, podcast, blog, or infographic, we have access to thousands of potential mentors.

Ever want to sit down and talk finances with a guy like Ramit Sethi? Learn how to master a new skill from Tim Ferriss? Hear Gary V rant about hustling and social media? You can. In fact, I just did all three of those—via podcasts—on a drive to Vegas.

Successful people don’t become successful by accident. They lived and learned until they became masters. And now we have the chance to learn from their experiences.

Learning from somebody that’s already made the journey is invaluable.

And it won’t cost you more than a little time, and in some cases, a couple bucks. When you learn from a mentor, the return on your investment—time, money, or effort—is massive.

Here are my favorite ways to pursue indirect mentorship:

Books

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They’re inexpensive and powerful. I’ve read books that have completely changed my life. Here are a few books that did exactly that.

I haven’t met any of the authors (yet), but I’ve been indirectly mentored by each of them.

Essentialism by Greg McKeown

The disciplined pursuit of less.

So Good They Can’t Ignore You by Cal Newport

How skills trump passion in finding the work you love.

The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown

Your guide to a wholehearted life.

Podcasts

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Podcasts are fantastic. I’ve learned from countless personal development podcasts. No matter where you are, it’s like sitting down to a conversation with brilliantly successful people. And you set the appointment.

Lately I’ve really been digging into a couple podcasts and loving both.

The School of Greatness with Lewis Howes

Resist Average Academy with Tommy Baker

A Direct Mentor

This is where the magic really happens.

A direct mentorship means you get direct and personally specific advice from the mentor. It’s a complete game changer.

The biggest difference between indirect and direct mentorships? Action.

You’ll learn a lot with an indirect mentor. But you’ll do a lot with a direct mentor.

Nobody’s going to hold you accountable for what you read about in a book or hear about on a podcast. And studies show that without some form of accountability you’re much less likely to succeed.

With a direct mentorship, follow up and accountability is a big part of the relationship.

When somebody that’s been there and done that is in your back pocket helping you with actionable advice, you zip down the road to mastery.

But developing that relationship can be tricky. Because it’s with a person and not a podcast, it takes time, effort, and finesse. You don’t simply ask someone to be a mentor. That’s the wrong way to go about doing it.

Here’s the right way.