Why Tutorials Alone Didn’t Give Me Flow

There was a period in my learning where everything looked right from the outside.

I was watching tutorials- Youtube videos and others.
I was reading guides-including PDF´s of code journals, W3Schools website and the in-depth coverage it gave in almost all programming languages.
I was following along, typing what I saw, and getting the expected results.

By most standards, I was “learning.”

But internally, something felt off. And so I felt.

I wasn’t lost, yet I wasn’t settled either. I could reproduce steps, but once the tutorial ended, the confidence faded quickly. The sense of flow I expected never really arrived. I could not actually connect the dots thereafter.

At that stage, my learning was mostly driven by consumption. Wait longer, it tends to dissipate-lost almost completely. And with a bit of frustration at how I could forget so soon, I would go back to try to fill the gaps again.

I moved from one tutorial to the next, assuming that consistency alone would eventually turn into understanding. Each video felt productive. Each article felt useful. And in isolation, they were.

But what I didn’t realize at the time was that I was collecting information, not owning it.

I could follow instructions, but I struggled to explain why something worked. If a small detail changed, I had to go back to the tutorial. If I faced a slightly different problem, the clarity disappeared.

The knowledge was there — but it wasn’t anchored.

This wasn’t a failure of tutorials.

In fact, tutorials helped me overcome fear. They introduced me to tools, concepts, and possibilities I might not have approached on my own. They lowered the barrier to entry and made learning feel accessible.

But they had a limitation I didn’t see early enough.

Tutorials are designed to show a path, not to build ownership. They guide you forward, but they don’t pause to ask whether you truly understand what just happened.

And I wasn’t pausing either. Just going.

The real issue wasn’t that I was learning the “wrong” way.
It was that I hadn’t yet learned how I needed to learn.

I mistook movement for progress.
I assumed that more effort will bring clarity and that staying busy meant things were sinking in.

But flow doesn’t come from repetition alone. It comes from clarity — and clarity only appears when you slow down enough to reflect.

That realization didn’t arrive as frustration or burnout. It came quietly.

I noticed that the moments where things finally made sense were the moments when I stepped away from the tutorial and tried to explain the idea to myself — sometimes in writing, sometimes mentally, sometimes by rebuilding something without guidance.

Those moments were slower. Less impressive. Less visible.

But they stayed with me.

That was the beginning of a shift.

I didn’t abandon tutorials. I simply stopped letting them lead the entire process. I began paying attention to what confused me, where I hesitated, and what I couldn’t explain clearly.

Writing became a tool, not for teaching others, but for understanding myself.

Documenting what I was learning forced me to confront gaps that tutorials had quietly allowed me to skip. Reflection turned passive knowledge into something more solid. Then the dots started connecting.

That’s when learning started to feel different.

This post sits between From Fear to Flow and the more structured journey that followed.

It represents the phase where learning looked productive, but understanding was still forming. It explains why documentation became necessary — not for content, not for performance, but for clarity.

The stages that come after this are shaped by that realization.

I didn’t need more speed.
I needed more structure.

And that’s where the next part of the journey begins.

This post is part of my ongoing learning archive.
My Tech Learning Journey — One Step at a Time

Learning Tech: Age Is Never a Barrier — What I’ve Discovered About Growth and Change

Introduction

If someone had told me years ago that I’d be editing websites and learning bits of code in my 50s, I would have smiled politely and changed the subject. Technology, to me, was always something other people mastered — the young, the mathematically gifted, the naturally curious. But here I am, navigating my way through HTML, CSS, and digital tools I once thought were far beyond my reach.

And I’m not just surviving it — I’m growing through it.


a middle aged man sitting on a desk with a computer
Age is never a barrier
sitting on a table articulating ideas-a way to start

The Challenge

When I first stepped into this world of tech, I will be lying if I say that I was not overwhelmed. The language was unfamiliar, the tools were many, and the learning curve felt steep. There were moments I stared at the screen, unsure where to click next. I worried I was too old, too slow, or too late to catch up.

Worse still, old fears resurfaced. The same fear that once made me avoid learning table tennis as a child — the fear of making mistakes and being laughed at — showed up again. Only this time, it came dressed in digital clothing.


The Turning Point

What changed?

It wasn’t a sudden burst of courage or brilliance. It was a quiet decision: I would no longer let fear be my guide.
I had a message to share, a voice to express, and technology had become the path to make that happen. I didn’t need to become a programmer. I just needed to be willing to learn — one step at a time.

And once I gave myself permission to be a beginner, something incredible happened: I started enjoying it. The tools that once scared me began to make sense. With each small win — adding a line of code, publishing a blog post, resizing an image — I felt more alive.


What I’ve Learned

This journey has taught me far more than just a few technical skills. It’s taught me about patience, humility, and the beauty of lifelong learning. I’ve learned that age doesn’t disqualify you from growth — it equips you with the maturity to appreciate it.

Learning tech didn’t just stretch my mind — it expanded my confidence. I began to see that my story, told through a digital lens, could reach people I may never meet in person. That’s a powerful thing.

A Personal Realization: Learning Has No Age Limit

I agree that learning follows some general principles. I’m not here to reinvent those or push new boundaries. But I am entitled to tell my own story—and that, I will do, in the only way I can.

Yes, learning has structure, but it is also a journey. And like any journey, it is shaped by the one walking the path. No two experiences are exactly the same.

I have never enjoyed learning more than I do now. Perhaps it’s a function of age. My experience isn’t fundamentally different—but there are things you only fully understand when you’ve lived a while. This, for me, is one of them.
Now feels like the perfect time to learn. The exuberance of youth has given way to something clearer. My mind feels focused. Tasks I once found scattered now appear like vivid pictures—drawing from things I’ve seen, read, lived, and learned over the years. It all comes together in ways that feel whole and fulfilling. Learning is no longer a struggle. It’s a joy. A privilege.

Just yesterday, during a session with ChatGPT about coding basics, fragments of my learning journey came alive—triggered by its clear prompts and structured guidance. A few years ago, this wouldn’t have resonated the same way.

This kind of experience is unique. Personal.

So, why not try something new today?

Olbee- Learning Tech-one step at a time


You might just uncover your self-worth—or awaken a hidden talent you didn’t know you had.
There’s a learning path out there that only you can walk.


Encouragement to Others

If you have ever felt like it’s too late to learn something new, especially something like technology, let me be honest with you: it’s not too late.

You don’t have to master everything. You just have to start.

You might stumble, yes. But every stumble is a sign that you are moving — and every movement is important because it counts.


Call to Action

What new skill would you explore if fear wasn’t holding you back? Could you share that with us?

Maybe today is the day to take the first small step.
And if this post reminded you of someone who needs a gentle nudge, send it their way. Growth isn’t a race — it’s a decision. One you can still make, right now.

From Fear to Flow: My Journey into Tech, Storytelling, and Solar Energy

Editor’s note:
This post marks the beginning of a learning journey I’m now documenting in full. If you would like to see how this story unfolds — from foundations to confusion to clarity — you can explore the full journey here:
→ My Tech Learning Journey — One Step at a Time

How a lifelong love of words led me to confront my fears, embrace technology, and find a new voice in a changing world.



For Me, IT Was a Myth

IT always felt like a myth — something buried deep inside the mathematics I struggled with as a child. Early on, I fell in love with literature instead. The way Shakespeare wove his words in prose and fiction always caught my fancy. Whenever I held one of his books, nothing else seemed to matter.

I dreamed of telling my own stories one day — through prose and fiction too. But the world has evolved far beyond printed words. In our quest for progress, we’ve created tools so powerful that even the best stories can now be written, read, and shared on devices that offer speed and convenience.


The World Has Changed — And So Must I

Technology — especially the internet — has transformed our lives in more ways than one. And if I truly want to tell my stories in today’s world, I have to learn new skills. I had no choice. I had to confront my old fears.

Up until recently, my only tech skills were checking emails and doing simple web searches. Now, I can find information faster than I ever could in a physical library. I began to ask: How are the words on web pages written?

To my surprise, a basic computer course I took back in university — which once felt meaningless — began to make sense. Terms like HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and Python no longer frightened me. In fact, they intrigued me. I had discovered a better way not only to tell my stories, but to share them with the world — in just a few clicks.


My Tent in Solar, and the Spark It Lit

When I decided to pitch my tent in the world of solar energy, I discovered how exciting and empowering these tech skills could be. What began as a search for basic training became the spark that rekindled something deeper: a belief that I still had much to learn — and even more to give.

But along the way, doubts crept in.


A Memory, a Mistake — and a New Resolve

Did I come to this too late?
At my age, does it even matter?

Then I remembered something from my childhood. I never learned to play table tennis. Every time we gathered to play, I was afraid my mates would laugh at my mistakes. So I stood back. I watched. I stayed safe.
And because of that fear, I never practiced — and never got good.

Now, I see it clearly: I didn’t fail because I lacked ability. I failed because I let fear decide for me.

Today, I choose differently.

I won’t let the fear of mistakes or the judgment of others stop me from showing up or trying something new. I may be late to the tech world, but I’m here now. And every step I take is a quiet rebellion against the voice that once told me I couldn’t.


Everyone Has a Story

Everyone has a story. You can only tell yours — and tell it the best way you can.
All stories are peculiar, in different ways.
Yours might begin in the forgotten jungles of the earth, or in the bustling cities of modern America.
Mine? It’s still being written — one brave sentence at a time.

If you have read this far, thank you. Let us hear from you on how we can make this journey as interesting as ever can be.