The day you stop sucking at the language isn’t the end of the journey, it’s the beginning.
Universities pay full, luscious lip service to this. Graduation is called “commencement”, at least in North America.
But lip service it is. Full lusciousness notwithstanding. It’s said that most peoples learning — in fact, all nonfunctional reading — stops the day they leave school.
But you and I are not most people. And I didn’t come to give you lip service today. My lips are chapped; it wouldn’t feel good.
Baby care doesn’t end at birth.
Parenting doesn’t end when the baby can walk.
So why, as soon as your linguistic baby can walk, are you thinking of abandoning her? I can hear an objection: “Khatz! Calm down, son! I need new challenges! New vistas! I can’t stagnate! I gotta grow! I’m not abandoning the baby! I’m just making another one!”
Tell that to the baby; she feels as abandoned as fork. You forgot she existed.
Don’t be a deadbeat dad. Don’t be a neglectful mother. Stay. Stay in your language child’s life. Milk it. You came all this way just to leave? OK, OK, I know the parental metaphors are a bit strong. But even in purely utilitarian terms, you’ll gain more from staying and milking than leaving.
Assuming you’re enjoying yourself, that is. If you’re really hating life with the language, then leaving might be the best thing. But I find the reasons most people hate a languages they’re leaving have to do with trying to extract too much extrinsic value from it too fast. Because fun is more about how than what.
When a language is part of your identity, a lifestyle and not an object, not a trophy, then, ironically, you relax and and have more fun and de-suck (real word) faster. In other words, you get everything you could ever ask for and more, if you just stop acting and feeling so desperate. And that can be very hard to believe. Surely the best way to hold onto something is to grip harder, right? How will this kitty know I love her if I don’t squeeze her until her spine breaks? That’s the kind of broken — but apparently reasonable — linear logic that overwhelms you when you’re in that desperate state.
Here’s some good old personal anecdote for ya: In 2004, I decided I was willing to spend my whole life and forget English if I had to in order to get good at Japanese…it turns out neither was necessary, but the relaxed state of mind that came from my resignation surely had some power to it. And, yeah, there was a short term goal or two in there; there was the career fair, but I never saw the fair as end in itself — in fact, by the time I physically got there, I was already looking beyond it, learning more, doing more reps; it was never an endpoint, only a waypoint.
Why does this type of resignation work? Why does resigning yourself to a lifetime of Japanese work? Because what you’ve really done is give up…on giving up. And if you’re never gonna give up, then it doesn’t matter what method you use or how long it takes, and it definitely doesn’t matter how you look to other people.
On the surface, this “Playa4Life” mindset goes against everything we know in terms of, say temporal motivation theory (TMT). But there are at least three ways to reconcile that apparent paradox. One is to say that the other equation components get driven up so high as to drown out the gamma. Another is to play fast and loose with both mathematics and common sense, and argue that infinite gamma and small (near-zero) gamma behave the same. And the third (and incidentally, least elegant) way is to just go — screw it, TMT isn’t a GUT or TOE, so it must just not apply here.
So, resignation. Think of it like holding an egg: in order to successfully hold an egg, you need a combination of firmness and softness…In order to successfully hold a language, you need the firmness of frequent contact (immersion and SRS), but the light softness of just having fun and not freaking the fork out over your situation, your progress, your vocabulary and stuff.
Maybe one day I’ll start swearing in writing like a real man. Anyway!