Eight years ago, I deleted an entire keynote I’d just filmed for Tracey Ezard.

Not a file. Not a clip.

The whole keynote. Gone. Like a magician, but sad.

It felt career-ending.

Tracey, somehow, was kind and forgiving. I, in return, filmed her next keynote free-of-charge and built a shame-fuelled foolproof backup system.

It has never happened again. Mostly because I now treat footage like a live organ transplant.

We all make mistakes. It doesn't feel like it in the moment, but there aren’t many you can’t come back from. I filmed another keynote for Tracey a few weeks ago. She’s still awesome.

This week on The Fink Tank, Col Fink and I set the scene with some glorious childhood dickheadery.

What’s the worst you’ve ever screwed up?

And how long did it take before you could laugh about it?

Day one: everything clicks. You’re in the zone.

Day two: same task, same brain… suddenly you suck?

Even experts like Adam Voigt and Kirsty Lush can turn in the occasional clanger.

It happens. They’re still legends.

So are you (probably).

Before a bad day spirals into a full identity crisis, try this:

Change the space. Change the feel. Change the day.

It might be the context that’s off. Not your competence.

In this Friday Fink Tank, Col and I talk about how performance shifts when your environment does, and why blaming yourself is often the least helpful option. Idiot.

This episode is proudly sponsored by

“I was better yesterday and I don’t know why.”

Ever watched someone speak, lead, or perform and thought, “Wait… that’s it? I could do that!”

Except of course, you couldn’t.

This episode of The Fink Tank is about deceptive simplicity. Watching mastery is often marvelling at how simple it looks in its final form!

And it works both ways, because here’s the thing we forget:

The stuff that feels easy to you now is usually the most valuable to someone else. The stuff that looks effortless because it’s been practiced into your bones.

You’ve done it so many times, you barely notice the skill anymore. But that’s the gold. That’s what people actually need from you.

As Digby Scott succinctly puts it, “meet ‘em where they’re at”

—

Also, I’m feeling a bit of discomfort writing this. Because @Col has used ME as the metaphor!

Antipodean culture spurns blowhards. We’re taught to avoid being the hero in our own story.

But I also believe in owning your expertise. Downplaying effort and practice benefits nobody.

In saying “Yeah, I’m good at this” without being a wanker about it.