Try Softer: Why Trying Harder Is Sometimes a Recipe for Failure

For almost twenty years, I was blessed to train under Grandmaster Bong Soo Han, a hapkido martial artist whose prowess was immortalized in the film Billy Jack.​

That movie featured what was, at the time, one of the most "realistic" fight scenes ever filmed—the protagonist taking on multiple assailants in a city park.

The scene included GM Han's famous demonstration:

He then proceeded to deliver a perfect outside crescent kick with his right foot, exactly as promised.

GM Han and his instructors constantly tried to teach us to relax and let techniques "flow."

But this was incredibly difficult for many of us Westerners who had grown up with the "try harder" mentality that Western culture celebrates.

We were raised to believe that more effort always equals better results—that success is simply a matter of grinding harder, pushing through, and overpowering obstacles through sheer force of will.

GM Han was undeniably powerful, but what was even more impressive was how graceful and effortless he made every technique look.

His high roundhouse kick wasn't just beautiful because of its height—it was stunning because of how easy he made it appear to kick something so high.

There was no strain, no wasted motion, no visible effort.

Just pure, efficient movement that seemed to defy physics.

One of the ways he got us to overcome our "try harder" conditioning was through our Tuesday night 6 PM "kicking class."

​Mr. Katleman would run what I affectionately called the "cardio-kicking Jane Fonda workout"—one solid hour of non-stop kicking.

It was fast-paced, with quick cadence counting in Korean (I can still hear "hana, dool, set, net..." echoing in my head decades later).

We cycled through all our basic kicks: front kick, side kick, roundhouse kick, back-sidekick—not the fancy jumping or running variations, just the fundamental techniques.

By the end, we'd each thrown over a thousand kicks.

We were utterly exhausted, puddles of sweat pooling beneath each student.

But here's what happened at that level of exhaustion: something transformative occurred.

Your kick got whittled down to its simplest, most efficient form.

Everything extraneous got stripped away, and you arrived at the core essence of the technique—as effortless, efficient, and graceful as possible.

Not because you were trying to achieve perfection, but because you had no choice.

Your body simply couldn't afford wasted motion.

You had to keep up with the count or quit, and quitting wasn't an option.

​Katleman was the perfect instructor for this class because he was a big guy.

If his large frame could execute kicks as fast as the relentless count he set, then we had far less excuse not to keep up.

He certainly led by example.

I'd had a glimpse of this principle before joining GM Han's dojang, from Joe Hyams' book Zen in the Martial Arts. There's a passage called "Try Softer" that captures this perfectly:

This ancient wisdom reveals a profound truth that runs counter to everything Western culture teaches us:

Sometimes trying harder is actually a recipe for failure.

Sometimes the secret to success isn't more effort—it's less.

Not less practice, not less discipline, but less forced effort.

Less strain. Less tension. Less trying.

The Western "Try Harder" Trap

The Cultural Conditioning

Western culture is built on the mythology of effort.

We celebrate stories of people who succeeded through sheer determination, grinding it out, refusing to quit, pushing through pain and obstacles.

Our heroes are those who tried harder than everyone else.

The messages we internalize:

• "No pain, no gain"
• "When the going gets tough, the tough get going"
• "Success is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration"
• "Outwork everyone else"
• "Push through the pain"

The underlying assumption:

More effort always produces better results.

If you're not succeeding, you're simply not trying hard enough.

The solution to any problem is to apply more force, more energy, more hours, more intensity.

Why This Actually Works (Sometimes)

This mentality isn't completely wrong—it works in specific contexts:

It works when:

• You're building base-level strength and conditioning
• You're developing discipline and work ethic
• You need to overcome initial resistance or inertia
• The task requires raw output or volume
• You're breaking through psychological barriers about what's possible

Construction sites taught me this:

When you need to move heavy materials, there's no substitute for putting yourself under pressure and the physical effort. When a deadline is approaching, sometimes you just need to grind.

Where This Mentality Fails Catastrophically

But the "try harder" approach becomes actively counterproductive when:

In skill development:

• Tension interferes with technique
• Force disrupts timing and coordination
• Strain prevents the subtlety needed for mastery
• Overthinking paralyzes natural movement

In creative work:

• Forcing ideas blocks the flow state
• Stress narrows perspective rather than expanding it
• Anxiety about outcomes prevents presence to process
• Grinding creates burnout rather than breakthrough

In relationships:

• Trying too hard to be liked creates awkwardness
• Forcing connection drives people away
• Desperation for outcomes sabotages natural development
• Overeffort signals insecurity rather than confidence

In performance under pressure:

• Tension restricts movement and reduces speed
• Overthinking slows reaction time
• Forcing outcomes increases error rate
• Anxiety about failure creates the very failure feared

The Paradox of Effort: When Less Becomes More

The Exhaustion Breakthrough

That Tuesday night kicking class revealed something profound:

When forced effort becomes impossible, natural efficiency emerges.

What happened at the point of exhaustion:

Your body simply couldn't maintain unnecessary tension. There wasn't enough energy left to add extraneous movements. Your nervous system had to find the most economical path to execute each technique.

The technique didn't get weaker—it got purer. The kick didn't get lower—it got more efficient. The form didn't deteriorate—it distilled to its essence.

Why exhaustion worked:

It removed your ability to "try hard." Your conscious mind, with all its trying and forcing and efforting, had to step aside. What remained was the technique itself, stripped of everything your ego and anxiety had been adding to it.

The Relaxation Power Paradox

GM Han demonstrated another profound paradox:

Maximum power comes from maximum relaxation, not maximum tension.

Watch a truly skilled martial artist:

• They're relaxed right up until the moment of impact
• Power comes from speed and timing, not muscular force
• The technique flows rather than forces
• There's no visible strain, even in devastating strikes

​The physics behind this:​

A tense muscle is already partially contracted, which means it has less distance to accelerate through. A relaxed muscle can generate far more speed because it starts from zero and accelerates through its full range of motion. Speed, not force, creates power.

But to relax while executing requires trust—trust in the technique, trust in your training, trust that you don't need to force the outcome.

This was the secret behind Bruce Lee's 1-inch punch.​

The "One Eye" Principle: Presence vs. Destination

The Zen Koan

The story from Hyams' book contains a profound teaching disguised as a simple exchange:

"When one eye is fixed upon your destination, there is only one eye left with which to find the Way."

This isn't about literal eyes—it's about attention, focus, and the paradox of achievement.

What It Means

When you're obsessed with the destination (outcome):

• You're not fully present to the path (process)
• You miss the subtle cues and adjustments needed now
• You create anxiety about a future you can't control
• You strain toward something rather than inhabiting the present

When you're fully present to the Way (process):

• You can respond to what's actually happening
• You notice subtle feedback that guides adjustment
• You're relaxed because you're not projecting into an anxious future
• You flow with what is rather than forcing what should be

The Application to Mastery

The student who says "I'll work twice as hard" is fixing both eyes on the destination—becoming "the finest karateka in the land." He's so focused on the outcome that he's already missing the path.

The master's response isn't punishing the student's ambition—it's revealing that the very obsession with speed and destination will slow the journey. The harder you try to force mastery, the longer it takes to arrive, because forcing and trying interfere with the natural process of development.

The Construction Site Contrast: When Trying Harder Works vs. When It Doesn't

Where Force Works

Construction taught me where the "try harder" mentality is appropriate:

Moving heavy materials: Sometimes you just need to apply force

Meeting deadlines: Sometimes you need to put in the hours

Breaking through inertia: Sometimes willpower is required to start

Building capacity: Sometimes you need to push past comfort to grow

Where Force Fails

But construction also taught me where trying harder backfires:

Precision work: Forcing a delicate measurement guarantees error

Problem-solving: Stressing about a solution blocks creative insight

Team dynamics: Trying too hard to control people creates resistance

Quality craftsmanship: Rushing and forcing leads to mistakes that must be redone

The skilled craftsman knows when to apply force and when to apply finesse. They know when to push and when to flow. They know when more effort is needed and when less effort is the answer.

The Modern Applications: Where We Need "Try Softer"

In Business and Entrepreneurship

Where we typically try harder:

• Forcing sales rather than creating value
• Grinding on tactics that aren't working
• Adding more features instead of simplifying
• Working longer hours instead of working smarter
• Pushing for control rather than building systems

Where trying softer would work better:

• Creating space for insight and strategy
• Simplifying to the essential rather than adding complexity
• Building relationships rather than forcing transactions
• Designing systems that work without constant effort
• Trusting process rather than micromanaging outcomes

In Personal Development

Where we typically try harder:

• Forcing ourselves to maintain unsustainable habits
• Straining to become someone we're not
• Pushing through signals that something isn't working
• Adding more activities rather than focusing on essentials
• Fighting our nature rather than leveraging it

Where trying softer would work better:

• Designing environments that make good choices easy
• Aligning goals with natural strengths and interests
• Listening to feedback and adjusting approach
• Removing obstacles rather than adding effort
• Working with our nature rather than against it

In Relationships

Where we typically try harder:

• Forcing conversation rather than creating space
• Trying to be liked rather than being authentic
• Pushing for outcomes rather than allowing development
• Adding effort to fix what's broken rather than addressing root causes
• Controlling rather than trusting

Where trying softer would work better:

• Being present rather than performing
• Creating safety for authentic expression
• Allowing relationships to develop naturally
• Addressing underlying dynamics rather than surface symptoms
• Building trust rather than demanding compliance

In Creative Work

Where we typically try harder:

• Forcing ideas rather than creating conditions for insight
• Grinding when stuck rather than stepping away
• Adding complexity rather than simplifying to essence
• Working more hours rather than working in flow states
• Pushing through resistance rather than understanding it

Where trying softer would work better:

• Creating space for ideas to emerge
• Taking breaks to allow subconscious processing
• Removing rather than adding
• Working when energy and inspiration are high
• Exploring resistance rather than fighting it

The Practice: How to Try Softer

Step 1: Recognize When You're Forcing

Signals you're trying too hard:

• Increasing tension in your body
• Rising anxiety about outcomes
• Diminishing returns despite more effort
• Loss of enjoyment in the process
• Exhaustion without progress
• Feeling like you're pushing uphill constantly

Step 2: Create Conditions for Natural Efficiency

Like the exhaustion in kicking class:

• Remove your ability to add unnecessary effort
• Increase volume to the point where efficiency becomes necessary
• Practice until conscious control must yield to automatic execution
• Create constraints that force simplicity

Practical applications:

• Set time limits that prevent perfectionism
• Increase quantity to force yourself past overthinking
• Practice under mild fatigue to prevent forcing
• Work with less rather than more (tools, resources, options)

Step 3: Shift from Destination to Way

Instead of:

• "How can I achieve this goal faster?"
• "What can I do to force this outcome?"
• "How much harder do I need to try?"

Ask:

• "What is this moment teaching me?"
• "What's the minimum effort needed right now?"
• "What wants to emerge if I stop forcing?"
• "What's trying to happen naturally?"

Step 4: Cultivate Relaxed Readiness

Like GM Han's effortless power:

• Practice maintaining relaxation while moving
• Notice when you're adding unnecessary tension
• Deliberately release muscle groups not needed for the task
• Trust the technique rather than forcing the outcome

The practice:

• Notice tension arising
• Label it: "I'm tensing"
• Consciously release it: "I can relax"
• Return to the movement without the added tension

Step 5: Trust the Process

The fundamental shift:

From: "I must force this to happen through my effort" To: "I create conditions and trust the natural unfolding"

What this requires:

• Patience with the timeline
• Faith in the process
• Presence to feedback
• Willingness to adjust rather than force
• Confidence that natural development, while slower, is more sustainable

The Integration: When to Push, When to Flow

The goal isn't to eliminate effort—it's to apply the right kind of effort at the right time.

When to "Try Harder"

Push when:

• Building foundational capacity
• Breaking through initial resistance
• Establishing discipline and habits
• Testing your limits to discover them
• Needing to prove to yourself what's possible

When to "Try Softer"

Flow when:

• Developing skill and finesse
• Performing under pressure
• Creating or problem-solving
• Building relationships
• Seeking insight or breakthrough
• Approaching mastery

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

This is the art:

Knowing when to apply force and when to release it. When to push and when to allow. When to control and when to trust. When to add effort and when to remove it.

The master doesn't try harder or softer—they apply exactly the effort needed, no more and no less.

Conclusion: The Effortless Mastery Paradox

After decades of training, I finally understood what GM Han was trying to teach us:

True mastery looks effortless not because it requires no effort, but because the effort has become so efficient, so precise, so natural that it's invisible.

The path to this effortless mastery isn't through trying harder—it's through trying smarter, then trying softer, and eventually not trying at all, but simply doing.

The progression:

1. Beginner: Must try hard just to execute basics
2. Intermediate: Tries hard to improve and perfect
3. Advanced: Learns when to apply effort and when to release
4. Master: Effort and non-effort merge into natural flow

When you see a master perform—whether in martial arts, craftsmanship, art, or any domain—what you're witnessing isn't the absence of effort.

You're witnessing effort that has been refined so thoroughly that it's become indistinguishable from ease.

This is the secret GM Han was teaching:

The roundhouse kick that looks effortless required thousands of hours of practice.

But those hours weren't spent trying harder—they were spent removing everything unnecessary, relaxing into the technique, and allowing natural efficiency to emerge.

So if trying harder isn't giving you the results you seek, consider the converse. Try softer.

• Remove rather than add.
• Release rather than grasp.
• Flow rather than force.
• Trust rather than control.

The answer might not be in doing more—it might be in doing less, but doing it with complete presence, natural efficiency, and relaxed power.

As the Zen saying goes:

Stop staring at where you want to be.

Start seeing where you are.

The path reveals itself not to those who force their way forward, but to those who are present enough to notice it.

Sometimes the secret to success isn't trying harder.

Sometimes it's learning to try softer.