Self-directed learning is one of the most satisfying kinds. If no one else told you what to study, what would you want to learn about? How often do we stop to ask that question? What are you going to teach yourself? My stepson is currently teaching himself to break the Guinness Book of World Records in claps-per-minute. He has always been a kid who needs a physical expression for his nervous energy-- think, clinking forks, think pinging sporks, think yelling "LLAMA LLAMA!", think ... right. But he's actually focused on this one. It means incessant grating clapping-- and it's driving us batshit, but he's also driven. And he's getting somewhere. His chest muscles are increasing in size from the practice. If we can separate the sound from its irritating quality, it's actually impressive the number of claps he can pull off in a short span. There is a technique to it. It's superfluous, yes, but also a talent. It's weird and absorbing, the effort to improve. He's also got a measurement method-- not just "Wow, I feel like I am getting better at this!" but two phones to objectively chart his progress-- one with a timer, one with a slo-mo video. He uses them to count the claps. He's clapping all the time around the house, and he measures at intervals. Soon, he'll draft his letter to the Guinness Board, whoever that is, and prepare his application materials. What You Teach Yourself, You'll LEARN What's the point? There is no point, really. I mean, it's fabulous to be the best at something esoteric-- I am telling you, no one can swipe the garlicky-oily-salty residue on a cooking skillet better than I can-- but it's also just something you can teach yourself just because. Learning should pull us in; learning should make us care to be better, driven to be better, sometimes even maniacal to be better. So often in school we're told, "Learn this; You MUST be good at Chemistry, or your head will be cut off!" But what if you just can't hang with the complexity Continue Reading …