Back in elementary school, my grammar teacher had this method. When about to teach a new lesson, she’d start the class saying, 'Three blank rows'.
It translated to 'Skip three rows in your notebooks before taking notes'. The middle blank row was reserved for the lesson title, the other two for padding. But first came the content.
She would first give examples of how the new concept works. Then, she'd help us identify the principles at play, and later ask us to explain them in our own words. She'd then rephrase our thoughts and reveal the title, tying the lesson together.
The teacher showed us how a new lesson didn't need to be a bewildering concept we need to suffer through; it could be something exciting—something we understand and own.
In those rare and special moments when learning new things, the dots connect instantly. Yet most of the time, things don't make sense... until they do.
So in the many moments when I stumble, procrastinate, or doubt, I try to remember that, in hindsight, the dots always connect.