Make Sandals (On Mental Resiliency)

“A man wants to walk across the land, but the earth is covered with thorns. He has two options—one is to pave his road, to tame all of nature into compliance. The other is to make sandals.”

—Indian proverb

Josh Waitzkin, the chess prodigy turned world-champion-martial artist, has faced and beaten the world’s best.

And at the highest levels of competition, there are always dirty players. Waitzkin encountered them in his chess career as a fifteen-year-old.

As he recounts in his book ​The Art of Learning​ (one of my all-time favorites), one newly immigrated Russian player named Boris would kick him hard under the table when no one was looking.

Then later Boris would get up and discuss a difficult position with his coaches, which is blatant cheating. But they were speaking in Russian. No one could prove anything. The infuriating injustice of these actions would throw Waitzkin off his game at critical moments. Boris had his number.

The influx of Russian players in the early 1990s and their questionable tactics led many young U.S. players to quit the game altogether, indignant.

“For my part,” Waitzkin writes, “the new crew of brilliant Machiavellian rivals made me buckle down. I had my home turf to defend and the first step would be to learn how to handle dirty opponents without losing my cool.” (59)

It wasn’t until his second career as a martial artist that Waitzkin really was able to “make sandals,” to harness his own emotions in the face of injustice, and turn the tables on his opponents.

Waitzkin tells the story of one particularly nasty opponent, a guy who would throw illegal head-butts to the nose when he started to lose in a match. His opponent did exactly this to Waitzkin—twice—in the finals of the National Tai Chi Championships, and Waitzkin went ballistic for ten seconds. He was literally “seeing red.”

Thankfully, Waitzkin came back to his senses and won the match. But he recognized a weakness in himself and went to work on it. He spent the next year seeking out “creepy” sparring partners who went for the neck, eyes, or groin. He learned to neutralize these types of attacks, and most importantly, to accept his fear of getting hurt.

When he met the same guy in the finals the very next year, it was no contest.

“I began by controlling him, neutralizing his aggression, building up a lead. Then he got emotional and started throwing head-butts. My reaction was very different this time. Instead of getting mad, I just rolled with his attacks and threw him out of the ring. His attacks didn’t touch me emotionally, and when unclouded, I was simply at a much higher level than him. It was amazing how easy it all felt when I didn’t take the bait.” (205)

Just as Waitzkin anticipated and adapted to unfair tactics in his competitions, creators must prepare themselves for a range of adversities.

A critic misinterprets your work. Someone steals your art. Haters troll you relentlessly.

At the highest levels, there are always dirty players. If you allow them to throw you off your game in critical moments, they have won. Instead, harness your emotions and play your own game.

Instead of trying to pave every thorny road with leather, make sandals.