The Art of Blooming Late

by Kevin Evers
From the May–June 2019 Issue

Mozart was a celestial genius, but he

struggled like a mere mortal during his
teens and early twenties. Though already a
prolific composer, he had to work as an
organist and concertmaster in his native
Salzburg to make ends meet. Underpaid,
unfulfilled, and hemmed in by his
frustratingly average gigs, he felt a burning
desire to devote more time and energy to
his art. So after a period of doubt and
deliberation, that’s exactly what he did. He
quit his job, set up shop in Vienna, and
embarked on what turned out to be the
most productive and creative period of his
life.

Tim Bowers

Even if you never hope to reach Mozart’s

level of mastery, you may relate to his
need to break free from convention. Maybe
you feel as if your job is like painting by
numbers. Maybe you’ve done everything
right—excelled at school, worked hard,
and landed a good, high-paying job—but
you’re tired of being just like everyone
else. Maybe you yearn to achieve
something that is unmistakably you.

If you aspire to do more personally

fulfilling work—say, to found a start-up or
turn a hobby into a full-fledged career—
drafting a plan of action can be daunting.
Even so, a few newly released books
suggest that it’s entirely possible to
develop the wherewithal, nerve, and clarity
of purpose to create your own version of
Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

In Aristotle’s Way, the classicist Edith Hall

describes the ancient philosopher’s belief
that becoming conscious of our skills,
talents, and aptitudes (dynamis) and then
using our resources to make the most of
them (energeia) is the foundation of living a
good life. If you’re not working toward
reaching your unique potential—as Mozart
did—it’s normal to feel dissatisfied. If
that’s the case, says Aristotle, it’s your
duty to make things right. The philosopher
John Kaag, author of Hiking with Nietzsche,
agrees. “The self does not lie passively in
wait for us to discover it,” he writes.
“Selfhood is made in the active, ongoing
process, in the German verb werden, ‘to
become.’”

What, then, is holding you back? Rich

Karlgaard, the publisher of Forbes magazine
and author of Late Bloomers, argues that our
culture’s obsession with early achievement
dissuades us from pursuing our passions.
Instead of having varied interests, studying
widely, and taking our time—essentials for
self-discovery—we’re encouraged to ace
tests, become specialists right away, and
pursue safe, stable, and lucrative careers.
As a result, most of us end up choosing
professional excellence over personal
fulfillment, and often we lose ourselves in
the process. According to the journalist
David Epstein, author of Range, our
obsession with specialization has
infiltrated the ranks of youth sports
coaches and helicopter parents, and it
defies logic. Unless your job requires
repetitive, routine tasks, being a specialist
isn’t an asset. Having a wide range of skills
and experiences is more beneficial because
it allows you to be nimble and creative.

The authors of Dark Horse, Todd Rose and

Ogi Ogas of Harvard’s School of
Education, noticed the negative effects of
early specialization in a study of people
who came out of nowhere to achieve great
success. “Despite feeling bored or
frustrated, underutilized or overwhelmed,”
the two write, “most dark horses
reluctantly plodded along for years before
finally coming to the realization that they
were not living a fulfilling life.” Then, after
a period of restless, quiet ambition, these
seemingly average people—administrative
assistants, engineers, IT managers—were
able to transform their “cravings,
predilections, and fascinations” into
successful careers as master sommeliers,
lifestyle entrepreneurs, and celebrated
craftsmen.

To prompt this kind of revolution in your

own life, Rose and Ogas suggest creating a
micromotive, or a goal tailored to an
extremely specific activity that truly
inspires you. For example, when Korinne
Belock left her job as a political aide to
form Urban Simplicity, a firm that
declutters and redesigns homes and
offices, her micromotive was “organizing
physical space.” Note that she didn’t say
“doing something creative” or “starting
my own business.” Those declarations are
too general and fuzzy to be acted on.
Instead, she identified a task that sparked
within her an outsized amount of curiosity
and pleasure and used it as her guide.

As you move forward, there are a few

things to keep in mind. First and foremost,
it’s never too late to “become” yourself.
Aristotle, for example, didn’t fully devote
himself to writing and philosophy until he
was nearly 50. There are also benefits to
taking a long, winding path to self-
fulfillment. Remember that age typically
brings wisdom, resilience, humility, self-
knowledge, and creativity. This is one
reason the average age of founders of high-
growth start-ups is 45. Citing the work of
developmental psychologist Erik Erikson,
Karlgaard writes, the “ages 40 to 64
constitute a unique period where one’s
creativity and experience combine with a
universal human longing to make our lives
matter.”

That said, once you’ve decided to embark

on the journey, it may take years, if not
longer, to reach your destination. But as
research has shown, small daily changes
can have a compound effect and slowly but
surely lead you closer to the person you
think you ought to be.

If you ever get stuck, think of Joanne, a

talented and creative woman who bounced
from job to job throughout her twenties,
working as a researcher, secretary, and
English-as-a-second-language teacher.
Optionless and clinically depressed, she
felt like a total failure. But she took that
feeling of despair and used it to her
advantage. Since she hadn’t succeeded in
following a standard path, she felt
liberated to do what she’d always wanted
to do: write fantasy novels for children. As
she would later recount, “I stopped
pretending to myself that I was anything
other than what I was.”

You’ve probably heard of her. Her pen

name is J.K. Rowling.

Now get to work.

A version of this article appeared in the

May–June 2019 issue (pp.166–167) of
Harvard Business Review.