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Recently, I noticed something unexpected: I am the same person whether I’m leading, co-leading, or learning, but I am not the same version of myself in each. I’m most familiar with leading, since I’ve now done that for over 15 months. But taking classes or co-leading offers experiences I’ve come to value.

I registered as a complete novice for a moss and lichens class. I also signed up for a 6-month backpacking course, even though I’ve included overnights as a small part of my outdoor experience for over 30 years.

Last Tuesday, I co-led a birding trip to Juanita Bay and got distracted by the 42 bird species we saw or heard. I found myself wanting to deliver high-quality photos of a few of the birds so those new to the activity would gain a greater understanding of what a few of the species look like.

Leading an online outdoor leadership seminar felt different from co-leading an in-person conditioning seminar on infusing workouts with more fun. My goal has evolved into belonging fully in every role without shrinking. Every leader has something to teach me. Every class fills a gap. Each trail grows me. I am still a learner, and now, a facilitator of growth for others.

Remembering the Old Model of Competence

I’m not sure exactly when things shifted, but as recently as 15 months ago, I felt that “competence” meant familiarity or comfort delivering a certain body of knowledge.

Many of us build identities around whatever we are good at, and for many years, for me, that was strength training. But when I took on the role of mentor on the trail and fell in love with it, I decided it was time to get back to leading, both in the mountains and in the classroom.

Trying new things stretched me out of my comfort zone, especially teaching neuroscience and stepping into leadership roles. I found them terrifying at times, exhilarating at others. Each step I took seemed to bring me closer to that objective of feeling competent, but in new and unexpected ways.

Turning Point: Commitment Creates Readiness

I used to think readiness came first. Now I see that commitment creates readiness. I think back to fifteen months ago when I started learning neurology, how intimidating it felt and how incompetent I felt. I gravitated to the mountains as a way to restore myself, since that was something I knew how to do; I was just doing it with strangers.

Now that those strangers have become “Tuesdays with Court” fans, my community, I seek out company with people I know on trails I know. But what I’ve also learned is that committing to online clients and online and in-person seminars is a lot like leading hikes: Repetition creates permanence. Just like neuroplasticity in the brain, once we work on establishing a habit and create new pathways, not only do our brains change, but our lives do, too.

Now, I look forward to my talks. My hikes. My online leadership seminars. When did that happen? How many repetitions does it require? Five? twenty-five? As many as it takes. Is there something you’ve been avoiding? What would it feel like to schedule one event so you follow through and try something new?

Identity Expansion

Confidence, I am learning, is less about mastery and more about remaining intact while trying something new. The leader role is now familiar to me, after doing it every Tuesday for 15 months.

What feels less familiar is co-leading, whether on a birding trip, writing a blog post, or taking the Sweep position for a Conditioning Hiking Series hike. And participating as a student, surrendering to the beginner’s mindset and being okay with looking stupid, making mistakes, asking silly questions – is a whole other role, one I’m embracing this summer as its own form of teacher.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped needing the leader role to stabilize me. I began trusting that who I am travels with me, regardless of the role. Now my goal is to show up, read the situation, and offer the best version of myself, whatever is needed. In essence, my identity is expanding to “being authentically me” in all situations. That could be parent, facilitator, student, leader, wife, community member. They all require different behaviors from me, but they all benefit from me being me.

Personal Reflections

Where in your life are you avoiding being a beginner? Perhaps more importantly, what gets in the way? Is time a factor? Are you concerned that someone might think you look like an idiot trying something new? Perhaps you’re concerned you’re too old, or too young, or not enough of something. Whether you do something new today or in ten years, most people are far more focused on their own lives than on ours. So, where are you clinging to competency as your primary role?

On Belonging: in Community, to Oneself

I still feel most at home leading, perhaps because I’ve accumulated close to 75 trip leads over the past 15 months. But I have found a new kind of freedom in knowing I can walk into any room, any event, any trail, at any level, and remain fully myself. Curious. Engaged. Compassionate. And willing to expand.

Belonging is not granted by a title or a role. It is carried within us. What may be the real work of adulthood is not choosing the role in which we always shine, but becoming, instead, someone who belongs regardless of where we stand.

Maybe belonging doesn’t come from mastering a single role, but from being willing to step into one before we feel fully ready.