A thoughtful comment on my post from a couple of days ago (on Facebook here, and Instagram here) brought up something I'm really passionate about - the relationship between pressure and excellence, between being pushed and truly mastering something. So I wanted to take some time to explore that a bit more today. The question, summed up, was:

If we step back and let our children lead their own learning, will they ever push themselves? Will they build that muscle of perseverance, of working through challenges? Will they reach their full potential?

Or, put another way: does pressure sometimes create excellence? Should we have high expectations, push a little harder, make sure they're stretching themselves?

The comment rightly pointed to various cultures where children are expected to show great independence, or take on real responsibility, or achieve high academic standards. Where that pressure seems to produce both excellence and resilience.

The key distinction, to me, is between pressure and purpose. Between external push and internal drive.

When children discover something they're genuinely interested in - whether that's mathematics, music, martial arts, or anything else - they often pursue it with incredible focus and dedication. They'll push themselves, practice for hours, work through challenges. But they do this because they're driven by their own curiosity and desire to improve. The motivation comes from within.

What creates resistance isn't high expectations or challenging work - it's the loss of agency. When children are forced to pursue excellence in areas they haven't chosen, on a timeline they haven't set, that's when we usually see pushback or burnout coming through.

Often, cultures where children seem to consistently achieve excellence in certain things do so through deep cultural values around purpose and meaning. Not just through pressure to perform. The best results will always come when high expectations are coupled with high support, high interest, high connection, and when children feel at least some sense of ownership over their learning journey.

But there's also something else to consider, and this is the part that often gets missed: a child can be achieving excellence by every external measure while feeling empty inside. High scores don't always mean high fulfilment. Technical mastery doesn't guarantee meaningful mastery.

The goal isn't to remove all challenge. No way. The goal is to let our children discover what drives them forward on their own terms. And then, when they find those things, to help them push deep.

Because when we trust their journey, they learn to trust themselves.

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P.S. If you're nodding along to this email, you're exactly who I created the Life Without School Collection for. Each week I'm exploring these kinds of challenges in more depth through mini-episodes (there's six available right now), and you'll also get instant access to my complete library of guides, masterclasses, and course on designing the right version of life without school for your family.
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