All things are difficult before they are easy.
The wisdom here lies not in announcing that practice makes perfect, but in validating the peculiar suffering of the beginning—that awful phase when your fingers are clumsy on the piano keys, when your prose reads like a child's, when you cannot yet see the path you're walking. Fuller offers permission to feel genuinely terrible at something new without interpreting that difficulty as a sign you lack talent. A person learning to cook will burn three pans of oil before understanding heat control; recognizing this pattern as inevitable, rather than personal failure, might be the difference between abandoning the kitchen and becoming someone who eventually feeds people well.