#7: Stepping away from the whiteboard
And why I'd like to be able to tell you that I'm leaving my wife and moving to Nepal
Since you've last heard from me, I can say that things have been good. Really good, even.
I'm more energized than I've been in memory. I'm building strong momentum around my writing practice and next professional chapter. I've even started to get a hang of this whole time thing. More detail on all this in a future piece. But suffice it to say, I'm feeling great.
This sentiment does confuse me though. Because by all measures, I'm still clueless. The reality is that after almost 6 months I don't have any definitive answers to the questions I started out with on this journey. In fact, I’m sitting with just as many questions as when I started. Possibly, even more.
Here's a peek into my progress:
What brings me meaning? I've discovered more than a few things do.
What's my vocation? I can't say I've found one just yet.
What do I want to do next for work? I’ve identified a couple of fulfilling paths that I could take.
I don’t mean to insinuate that I've made no progress in answering these questions. In fact, I can confidently say that I have. I'm equipped with far more material, far more signal and far more wisdom to inform these questions than ever before; and I'm moving much more confidently toward these answers. Despite all this though, I wouldn't say that the answer to any one of these questions is definitive. Depending on which day, hour or moment you catch me in, you might actually get a different answer.
And I find myself struggling with this a lot: I don’t hold definitive answers, yet I direly want to hold them. I want these answers to be viscerally lucid and coherent. I want them to be hell yeah in every single sense. And epic, at that. You know, something like:
You: "Hey man, how’s the sabbatical been going?"
Me: "Wow, I'm really glad you asked. I'm leaving my wife, changing my name, moving to Nepal. This is actually the last time we'll ever speak. It's been real. Oh, and I finally got that tat sleeve. Check it out!"
(Important note to my wife that I plan to not leave: we'll talk about all this later).
(Un)fortunately though, I can’t say that I’ll be moving to Nepal. But I’d be lying if I told you an answer like that wouldn’t feel good. It would represent a brazen 180 from my current state; it would feign black & white around a whole lot of grey; it would represent ample justification for time spent wandering. Most importantly though, an answer like that would provide an authoritative guidepost to direct moving forward and taking action.
So what’s changed? Why are things good despite the lack of answers?
After explaining all this to Jocelyn during a recent coaching session, she paused and calmly reflected back: "You've stepped away from the whiteboard.” She was right; this was the answer. I had been at the whiteboard for far too long.
Drawing it out, writing it on paper, drafting a plan. This is me at the whiteboard.
Scripting, projecting, visioning. This is me at the whiteboard.
Reading, listening. This is me at the whiteboard.
Strategizing. This is me at the whiteboard.
Telling myself a story, holding onto an identify, grasping onto an assumption. This is me at the whiteboard.
I do believe whiteboarding to be vital work. If you've ever read this newsletter, that last statement should come as no surprise. I find myself spending lots of time at the whiteboard. When I forget or try to deny this, my sister likes to remind me: “Harris, you’ve sure got lots to say in your newsletter!”
I’ve come to learn though that it’s way too easy for me to remain at the whiteboard in certain areas of my life. And these last 6 months, in many ways, have represented a shedding of the patterns, beliefs and stories that had kept me at the whiteboard for far too long. I’ve now come to more fully appreciate that being at the whiteboard, like most things in life, serves a purpose until the point at which it doesn’t.
What’s become clear to me is how risky remaining at the whiteboard can actually be. It can turn healthy questioning into painstaking paralysis; it can enable us to hold onto untested & faulty assumptions about our “perfect” plans; it can permit us to hide behind wishful thinking that neglects the reality of where we truly are. None of these things will move you forward; and none of these things will get you any closer to leaving your wife, changing your name and moving to Nepal.
Shoutout to @Jocelyn for inspiring this topic; and to @Christina, @Abhijeet, @Collin, @Monica and @Mark for the incredible feedback on the original draft of this piece. As they could all tell you, the original draft of this piece is almost unrecognizable from where this one landed. That incredible feedback is also one reason why you're getting this a few days past Wednesday, but 🤷♂️. So this all to say, do not ever forget: feedback is a gift.
🤘,
Harris
PS — if anything in here resonated, I'd appreciate it if you tapped the heart below or shared with a friend or two.
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