Can old dogs learn new tricks? Why do so many of us stop learning as we grow older? Are we afraid of failing at something?

Well, this seasoned pup is currently learning the game of Bridge. In September 2023, I penned an essay about my challenge of learning the game of Bridge. It’s been lingering on my bucket list for years. I finally made time in my schedule and hope to tackle this challenge.

My journey began with enrolling in Main Line School Night’s beginner Bridge class. The class is ninety minutes every week for six weeks. We finished our second class on Tuesday. Picture a group of lovely ladies huddled around a card table in a quaint old classroom, with our instructor attempting to relay the game’s confusing rules. She diligently scribbles notes on the board, striving to impart the game’s fundamentals.

My ultimate goal is to eventually engage in some lively gameplay. After all, isn’t Bridge all about fun and socializing? I may have to alter my expectations, though.

The first rule of Bridge? No talking.

Conveying what’s in your hand to your partner sitting opposite you is one of the game’s complexities. Apparently, you must give clues or, read your partner’s mind to communicate. Our teacher hasn’t provided a lesson on telepathy, I’ll be sure to keep you posted if she does.

Every round includes a “dummy.” A player is tasked with laying their cards face up on the table and obediently following orders from their partner. Think of them as the Vanna White of Bridge. On day one, I played the role of the dummy in more ways than one. Clueless and utterly green, I entered the classroom armed with nothing but the knowledge that Bridge involved cards.

Meanwhile, the other ladies in class had either taken a lesson or played a bit. Our teacher has been playing and teaching for years and must have been a middle school teacher. She has the patience of a saint. After several stupid questions from me like, “Can you tell your partner you like your cards?” She just smiled. Rule one. No talking.

Learning a complex skill as an adult can be a challenge. I opted for Bridge because I wanted to give my brain a workout. We all know our minds decline with age so I thought why not challenge myself with a game that requires some serious brainpower? Also critical in learning a new skill is allowing yourself to fail. One of the most common fears adults struggle with is the fear of failure, referred to as Atychiphobia. If you want to succeed at new habits or skills, you need to learn to succeed at failing. Feel the fear and do it anyway. In Zen, there’s a term, Shoshin, meaning beginner’s mind. It’s about approaching learning with openness, eagerness, and without preconceived notions, like a beginner. As a lifelong learner, I’m willing to fail, even look foolish, and face insecurity. In fact, I’m a pro.

During my forties, I trained for a triathlon. I was not a strong swimmer and didn’t know how to swim laps, let alone in the open water with a tide, so I enrolled in private swim lessons at UMLY. Yes, it was slightly mortifying. Picture me, a grown woman, for months, splashing around the next lane across from four-year-olds in the pool, getting puzzled looks from the young mothers. But I sported my kooky goggles and swim cap, and flashed them a big smile. Then after finishing each lesson, thumb-upped the kids.

Fast forward to race day, I was prepared but feeling the nerves. That day there was a powerful tide. I dove in with the sea of swimmers and knew I was in for a challenge. I swam and swam and swam but that tide was a force to be reckoned with. I wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to fight the tide. Rescue Sea-Doos and lifeguard boats were circling the struggling swimmers. Panicking, fearing being hit, I signaled a boat to come over and quit the swim. More rescues occurred that day than ever before in the race’s history.

They took me to the ladder and cut off my ankle bracelet that recorded my time. Upon exiting the water I was defeated and started sobbing. My husband was there to hug me and said, “You can still finish.” So I hopped on my bike, pedaled like my life depended on it, and then ran my heart out to the finish line, having had plenty of time for perspective.

My family was at the finish cheering me on. My daughter gave me a big hug and my son was tearing up. A moment I’ll never forget. They thought I was upset about the swim, but little did they know, I was grateful for the lesson it taught me. It was the perfect lesson for my kids to witness. I didn’t see it as a failure. I was in the best shape of my life and could now swim laps with ease. “I’ll get it next time!” I said.

I continually look inside myself to discover any hidden, unfulfilled passion I might want to explore. Years ago, I learned how to throw pottery. I vividly recall the moment when everything just clicked while throwing a cylinder on the pottery wheel. I spent countless hours at the wheel, tirelessly crafting cylinder after cylinder, my mantra was, “It’s just clay.” Despite facing failure around 100 times, I persisted. Then, one fateful day, as I centered the clay on the spinning wheel, opened it, and pulled it up, I sensed a subtle shift in the clay as I raised it higher. I got it. Ping!

My new mantra for my new endeavor is, “It’s only a game!” Will I master Bridge? Probably not, but I’ll be happy to start playing socially with others. I’ll smile a lot. Remember, no talking.

Enjoy!
Regina