The Wall I Keep Running Into (And Why I Keep Coming Back)

Sometimes I wonder if people knew just how much trial and error goes into the things I do—would they still think I know what I'm doing? Or would they realize, like I have, that what separates someone who figures things out from someone who gives up isn’t brilliance. It’s persistence. And maybe just a touch of stubborn curiosity.

Last night, I was watching Monica play a video game. She kept trying the same strategy over and over again, hitting the same wall each time. I could tell she was frustrated, but she kept at it. Finally, I stepped in and offered a suggestion. I hadn’t played the game before, but something about watching it unfold sparked an idea. She tried what I said, and it worked. She looked at me like I had some hidden superpower—but I don’t. I just recognized a pattern, thought of a workaround, and tried something different. That’s what I do, always.

That got me thinking about how often I end up in those stuck moments—whether it’s fixing an old laptop, tweaking video footage, repairing a fan motor, or editing wind noise out of a motorcycle ride. I’m constantly hitting walls. The only difference is, I don’t mind the wall. In fact, I think part of me likes it.

I like the puzzle. I like the frustration that turns into flow once the pieces start making sense. I like that feeling when you step away, let your brain breathe, and suddenly the answer comes to you while brushing your teeth or watching someone else struggle through something unrelated.

I don’t think of myself as a smart person—not in the academic sense. I don’t have letters after my name or a formal title that implies genius. But I solve problems. Not because I always know how, but because I stay with them long enough to figure it out. I get creative. I repurpose. I test. I fail. I try again. Like MacGyver with fewer explosions and more patience (usually).

What worries me is that so many people get discouraged the moment things don’t go right. They assume they’re not cut out for troubleshooting. But that’s not true. It’s a skill you build, not a trait you’re born with. If more people realized that problem-solving is a mindset—not a measure of intelligence—I think they’d discover they’re more capable than they’ve ever given themselves credit for.

So if you’re reading this and you’ve hit a wall—walk away if you need to. But don’t quit. Come back with a new angle. Take a deep breath. Ask a new question. Try the thing that doesn’t make sense yet. You’re not failing. You’re learning. And if you keep at it, one day someone might look at you the way Monica looked at me last night—like you just pulled off magic. But you’ll know it wasn’t magic. It was just persistence, curiosity, and a willingness to keep going.

And maybe that’s what makes a problem solver.