Recently, I read a book about writing and one of the exercises was to write about something you're an expert in. To start, you create a list of passions, interests, or other things you might be an expert in. Once you've identified something, you describe the process, steps, or work involved in the chosen area of expertise. Then, you determine who your audience is, their needs, and attitudes, and write something to serve them. After writing a draft, you get it reviewed by someone in your target audience, edit it, and publish it.

The only problem with this exercise was that I quickly realized I'm not an expert in anything. I know several things well and am proficient in many areas, but none to the point of being an expert. My hobbies include nutrition, sports performance (biking and running), functional fitness, coffee, reading, learning, fashion (not the high fashion stuff, more like how to get a fit off), cooking (comes and goes in waves), music, and more. Within those hobbies, I'd consider myself proficient. I can walk you through how to do a single-leg Romanian deadlift. I explain the ideal ratio of coffee grounds to water based on the brewing method and show you how to make a solid (7/10) cup of pour-over coffee. I can give you the half-marathon training plan I used to get my own PR (though below average by my comparison to others).

But I don't know any of those things deeply enough to consider myself an expert. Someone on r/coffee might quiz me on an obscure piece of knowledge that any coffee “expert” should know, but that I don't. A physical therapist or trainer might ask me to describe the difference between sumo squats, goblet squats, bicyclist squats, and regular squats, and I wouldn't be able to tell them. I've run one half-marathon and one marathon, so still have limited knowledge and experience running. I completed my first 100mi (century) ride on a bike last year, but I'm still much slower than the people I follow on Strava and missed my distance and climbing goals yet again.

In short, I'm an expert in being a jack of all trades. I excel at spreading myself across multiple disciplines and pursuits without ever getting good enough at one thing to consider myself an expert. I spend just enough time on a subject to become proficient (according to my own standards) before either moving on or relaxing in the zone of proficiency.

So, how might you become an expert in being proficient in many things but a master of none? Here are five steps:

Step 1
Pick a passion or interest of yours. It could be painting, hunting, or knitting throw pillows. Have fun with it! What you pick doesn’t really matter, just that you have some interest in it.

Step 2
Research and practice your chosen passion/interest. If you chose painting, watch some YouTube videos and buy a watercolor set. Set aside a bit of time every day to paint. Learning by doing is key here. Also, be aware that you might not be that good to start out. It may take a while to develop some base level of competency, but keep going because it’s worth the effort.

Step 3
Continue to practice. Keep at it and continue to build proficiency in the subject you've chosen. Push through the plateau and build on your earlier learnings. At this point, you may start to seek out resources targeted toward those with more experience. Maybe you’re skiing the blues, painting detailed portraits, or knitting designs into your pillows. You’re building a foundation you can fall back on in the future.

Step 4
Reach the zone of proficiency. Congrats, you’ve reached what I have deemed “The Zone of Proficiency.” You can hold your ground in whatever subject you've chosen. You can ski the blacks on the mountain and do little bunny hops along the way. Your latest poems are looking solid. You’re no Robert Frost yet, but then again, you took the path less traveled (note to the learned reader: if you actually read this poem, you’d know that the interpretation is that both paths are effectively equal, but travel influencers use the quote as some sort of motto despite not understanding the true meaning).

Step 5
Deprioritize your chosen subject. Stop practicing as frequently. Maybe you only paint a couple days a week. Or you keep running every few days but stop reading so much about different routines and how to optimize your training. At this point, you’ve lost the passion and intrigue you felt at step one. Your chosen subject is still interesting, but knitting every day was getting old, so now you just do it when you have time. You can still tell your friends what they’re doing wrong when you have your knitting club meetings, but you’ve stopped really progressing.

By following those five steps, you can become an expert in being an expert of absolutely nothing. Those steps make up the simple framework that I continue to use throughout my life.

In all seriousness though, I don’t know if there’s anything I’m truly an expert in yet, nor do I believe I will be anytime soon. Maybe it’s my age and lack of experience, or maybe it's my tendency to cycle between interests before ever I can develop a level of expertise. Or more likely, the definition of “expert” is such that I couldn’t possibly be an expert unless I was laser-focused on a single area. I mean listen to this — the definition of expert (the adjective) is “having or involving authoritative knowledge.” I certainly don’t have authoritative knowledge of anything yet.

I subscribe to the idea of being more of a generalist early on in life and eventually finding a topic to go deeper on. Not being an expert is fine by me. I'll continue to pursue a wide array of interests and will likely ditch a lot of them. Some may stick, but it’s easier to find out what you don’t like than to find out what you do. Maybe one day I'll become an expert in something. Or maybe I won't and that's fine too. At least I'll still be an expert in being an expert of nothing.