This weekend, at the age of 46, I mowed a lawn for the first time in my life.
I know… Forty-six.
You’d think I might have encountered a lawnmower before now.
But in my defence, I grew up in a city, mostly with balconies rather than sprawling lawns. And since moving to North Yorkshire, there has always conveniently been someone else who knew what they were doing when it came to keeping the grass under control.
Until this weekend.
The chief mower was out of action, the grass was rapidly beginning to resemble an unkempt meadow, and eventually I decided that surely I could work out how to do it myself.
How hard could mowing a lawn actually be? Not as easy as I thought… as it turns out.
Not technically hard, perhaps. But when you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, apparently there are quite a lot of opportunities to make the whole thing considerably more complicated than it needs to be.
I went over the same patches several times. I missed other patches completely.
I did not move around the garden efficiently or effectively, so there was a lot of forwards, backwards, turning around and retracing my steps. And going around our pond about four times.
There were absolutely no beautiful, neat stripes. And at various points I genuinely wondered whether I was somehow doing lawn mowing ‘properly’.
But eventually I stood there, lawnmower still thankfully not in the pond, looking at my slightly wonky but very definitely mown lawn. And actually, I was quite proud of myself. And it made me think about something we don’t talk about enough in business: what it feels like to be a complete beginner.
Because yes, I’m 46. And I had just learnt how to do something I had never done before.
Which got me thinking…
You’re allowed to be a beginner at any age
I think there’s something slightly uncomfortable about admitting you’ve never done something once you reach a certain age. There are all these things we somehow assume adults are supposed to know… Cooking certain meals. Changing a tyre. Growing vegetables. Using a drill… Mowing a lawn, apparently.
And when you reach your forties, fifties, sixties or beyond, it can feel slightly ridiculous to announce that you’ve never actually done one of them.
But why? Sometimes you simply haven’t needed to. Sometimes somebody else has always done it. Sometimes your life has taken you in a completely different direction. And sometimes an opportunity comes along and you think, actually, perhaps I could learn this.
There isn’t an expiry date on being a beginner.
You can learn something at 26.
You can learn something at 46.
You can learn something at 76.
And you might even surprise yourself!
I certainly surprised myself by successfully wielding a lawnmower around a fairly complicated garden without destroying anything particularly important.
The lawn might not have looked like Wimbledon afterwards, but I’d done it. And I think we need to give ourselves a little more permission to have those moments.
The first time you do something, you probably won’t be very efficient
Being willing to be a beginner also means accepting that your first attempt probably isn’t going to be particularly polished. Particularly when you’re an adult and you’re used to being reasonably competent at most of the things you do.
We tend to expect ourselves to understand things immediately.
We launch something and expect the process to be smooth.
We create our first offer and expect the pricing to feel obvious.
We organise our first event and wonder why we didn’t anticipate every tiny logistical detail.
We start posting online and think we should somehow know exactly what our audience wants.
We try a new piece of software, launch a newsletter, take on a different type of client or introduce a new service – and when the whole thing feels clunky, we assume we’re doing something wrong.
But sometimes it feels clunky for one very simple reason. You’ve never done it before! Of course you’re going to go over the same metaphorical patch of grass three times. Of course you’re going to miss a bit. Of course you’re going to discover afterwards that there was probably a much quicker way of doing it.
That isn’t necessarily failure. It’s learning.
Sometimes an outside perspective helps
Of course, learning through experience doesn’t mean you have to work absolutely everything out by yourself.
I’m fairly confident somebody who knows how to mow a lawn properly could have saved me quite a lot of unnecessary dizziness around the pond.
And business can be the same.
Sometimes you need to try something yourself. Sometimes you need somebody else to stand next to you and say: “You know there’s a much easier way of doing that, don’t you?”
That’s often where I help. A lot of the work I do with small business owners is simply helping them get out of their own heads for a moment and look at what’s happening from the outside.
Where are you doubling back unnecessarily?
What’s taking far longer than it should?
What are you making more complicated than it needs to be?
Is there a clearer way to structure the offer, improve the customer journey, organise the project or simply decide what needs your attention first?
I’m not there to take the lawnmower out of your hands. You still know your business better than anyone else. Sometimes you just need another pair of eyes, a sounding board and somebody who can help you spot the easier route.
That might be a one-off conversation when you’re feeling stuck, or more practical support when you’ve got a project that needs moving forward. Either way, the aim is the same: to help you get to the straighter lines a little sooner – without expecting everything to be perfect on the first attempt.
That outside perspective can help you spot the patterns you can’t see when you’re in the middle of the work.
Your first attempt is allowed to look like a dog’s dinner
My lawn currently has wonky lines. There are tufty bits. There are sections I definitely went over more times than necessary. And I’m fairly sure nobody from Wimbledon will be calling me about their groundskeeping team anytime soon.
But the lawn is mown. And the lawnmower didn’t end up in the pond.
I did it! At 46, I learnt something new. Next time I’ll be better at it. The time after that, probably better again. Eventually, perhaps, we might even get some stripes.
And I think there’s something worth remembering in that when you’re building a business – or frankly, when you’re doing anything else in life.
Your first workshop doesn’t have to be perfect. Your first event doesn’t have to sell out. Your first newsletter doesn’t have to be brilliant. Your first offer doesn’t have to become your forever offer. And you don’t have to already know how to do something simply because you’ve reached a particular age.
You’re allowed to be new at things.
You’re allowed to have absolutely no idea what you’re doing.
You’re allowed to try, get it slightly wrong, laugh at yourself and learn.
Your first attempt at something new is allowed to look a little wonky.
What matters is that you did it. Then you look at what worked, what didn’t, what took far longer than it needed to – and you do it slightly better next time. And eventually, something that once felt awkward becomes something you barely have to think about.
As I finished mowing the lawn, it started raining.
Given that I’m now apparently a gardening expert, I’m choosing to interpret that as nature congratulating me on a job well done.
The stripes can wait until next time.
A reminder if you're trying something new
If you’re trying something new in your business and it feels harder than you expected, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve chosen the wrong thing. You may simply be experiencing the inefficiency that comes with being a beginner.
Give yourself permission to learn, adjust and try again. Experience makes the process easier – and sometimes an outside perspective can help you spot a straighter route.
