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BEACON #4
The Virtuoso Fallacy
Someone performs an incredible routine in a YouTube video, and you think: I want to do that too! You watch the tutorial, try to replicate it—and fail. Again and again. You practice and practice, but it just doesn’t work like in the video. You get frustrated and wonder if you’re even good enough. I’ve been there myself from time to time.
Eventually, I understood the problem: I was trying to copy the end product instead of following the path to get there. What you see on YouTube is often the result of decades of work, not the starting point. No virtuoso has ever performed their finished routine like that from day one. What you don’t see are the years spent on the basics, the thousands of repetitions of the simplest version, and the slow layering of individual elements over time.
Dai Vernon didn’t learn the Volte in a day either. He spent years practicing, studying, and analyzing the fundamental movements and basic versions before he began developing variations. The “Vernon Touch” we admire today is the result of decades—not a single YouTube tutorial.
The real issue, however, runs even deeper: it’s about comparison. You’re comparing yourself to the virtuoso, your beginning to their end, your first day to their thirtieth.
Not only is this unfair to yourself, but it’s also absurd. You’re comparing a sapling to a fully grown tree and wondering why the sapling isn’t bearing fruit.
Here comes the liberating realization: You don’t have to become a virtuoso. You’re not a gymnast or an acrobat who has to perform triple somersaults in front of 5,000 spectators. You’re a magician who wants to share something beautiful with friends, family, and maybe a few colleagues at a party. On this playing field, you’re good enough—just as you are and with what you have.
The idea isn’t to copy the finished routine but to emulate its creative process. You start with the simplest version and build it up layer by layer, ensuring each layer is solid before adding the next. This isn’t a detour—it’s the way.
After some time, you may not have the exact routine of the virtuoso, but your own version of it. And that version is better for you because it fits you. Because it’s yours—something that grew within you and with you.
Until next time,
Alexander
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