Trying new things is magic

Dear Andre, (2.5 min read)

Trying new things is magic.

Last week, I did something new.
I went to Hawaii for the first time.

On my final morning, I had a flight and a decision to make.

Do I:

• Do laundry and get a quick hotel workout in—what Practical Daniel wanted to do (yes, I know I sound lame)
  or

• Rent a surfboard and surf for the first time—even though I’d only watched one 10-minute video and had zero idea what I was doing?

You’d think this was an easy decision.
Like, duh, go surf.

But it wasn’t.

I actually had to ask myself the question I come back to often:
“What’s the most interesting story?”

There was a clear answer.
But it still took effort to choose the thing I hadn’t done before.
Laundry would always be there.
Surfing wouldn’t.

So I went for it.

I rented the board.
Paddled out.
Caught some waves.
And yes—after a few false starts—I stood up. Four times.

It was a mix of joy and total exhaustion.
But what hit me the most wasn’t how fun it was. It was what I noticed.

There was someone else out there—same beach, same morning—who caught eight waves.

She saw waves forming before I even realized they were coming.
She turned her board around quickly and got into position.
She had skills I didn’t even know I was supposed to have.

Same environment.
Totally different experience.
All because of skill, perspective, and practice.

That’s why I try new things.
Not because I expect to be amazing at them.
But because trying something new shows me what I didn’t know I didn’t know.

It gives me new insight, new appreciation, and new ways of connecting.

Surfing in Hawaii didn’t just stretch me physically.
It expanded the way I see the world.

Now I can hear your pushback already:
“Okay dude, cool for you. But I’m not in Hawaii, and I don’t have time to surf.”

Fair.
But trying new things doesn’t have to be dramatic.
In fact, some of the most powerful shifts start small.

Let me guess.
Your life has a rhythm.
You drive the same way to work.
Brush your teeth with the same hand.
Put on the same shoe first.
Write, eat, click, swipe—all with the same habits.
That’s normal.
It’s comforting.

But comfort doesn’t create creativity.
It doesn’t unlock new thinking.
It doesn’t expand your capacity.

Let me tell you something that changed my life.

When I was first learning to play drums, my dad gave me one simple tip:
“If you want to get better, learn to use your left hand more.”

So I did.

I started eating cereal left-handed.
Then brushing my teeth.
Using a mouse.
Even using chopsticks.
Eventually, I taught myself to write with my left hand over the course of two months.

Why?
Because I wanted to get better.
I wanted to expand.
And I knew that mastery isn’t built in obvious ways. It’s built in the margins.

Fast forward to my final semester of college.
I had to get a wart frozen off my right pointer finger. (Yes, ouch.)
That’s the finger I used to take notes.

But guess what?

It didn’t derail me.
Because I’d unintentionally trained for this moment.
I could just write with my left hand.
No big deal.

That’s the magic of doing things in new ways.
You build range.
You build options.
You become the kind of person who isn’t thrown off easily—because you’ve stretched yourself on purpose.

So here’s my challenge to you this week:

Try one routine thing in a new way.

Use your other hand.
Drive a different route.
Eat with your non-dominant hand.
Put your left shoe on first.
Anything.

It’ll feel awkward.
But it will also remind you—you’re not stuck.
You’re not fragile.
You’re capable of change.

Trying new things is magic.
And the more you do, the more you’ll prove to yourself:

If they can do it… you can too.

Now go try something new.

– Daniel