Problem solving is somewhat similar to eating pizza. While I pride myself on my ability to eat an entire pizza, my chances of success are much higher if I take small bites instead of trying to swallow it whole. The biggest challenge is figuring out how to slice effectively. I feel the same way about personal problem solving - except that the slices, or smaller problems, are intangible.
As I read Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, I promised myself to avoid making consequential decisions under 'duress' whenever possible. He explains that we can trust our gut >90% of the time, except when under 'duress.' I had ideas about what to do (professionally) for a few weeks to a month, but knew that there was too much else going on to make a decision confidently. Naturally, I reduced the 'number of balls in the air,' as my dad refers to the chaos, by submitting the most ridiculous, yet creative, graduate school application. I put my extremely below average GMAT score and age front and center on my resume, as if I was proud of it - as a gesture that I have nothing to hide and will own my shortcomings. I'm learning that it often doesn't matter how you slice, when the worst decision you can make is no decision.
Contrary to what you’d expect in terms of state of mind when compiling an entire joint degree application in 4 days, my friends and family observed that I was as calm as I’d been in months. This ability to remain calm, while working on such an urgent and important personal task, demonstrated that my reaction to people at work was out of my control, not to mention justified. Details in post #102. The application was rejected, but who cares? For now. The point is that I submitted an application that I was proud of 12 hours before the deadline. I went to work the next morning, and kept my promise to inform my team before actively pursuing my next role within the company. To say that interviewing for new roles, upholding the existing responsibilities with its unnecessary challenges included would be an understatement. The fastest way out is through. After 2-3 weeks, I was fortunate enough to have earned an incredible new opportunity - Although I must admit that it took some time to recover enough to recognize it and be excited.
With the next phase of my career in motion, there's no longer an excuse for my personal life, or lack thereof, depending on how you look at it. I knew that I'd have to take apart my personal life in the same way that I have with any business project. First things first: I’m proud of myself for admitting that the answer to most questions lately is “I don’t know.” I was so overwhelmed by work demands that I couldn't even find the energy to respond to texts. When it came to larger questions, it was easier to rely on work as an excuse than make an attempt to carve out time to think about it. I may seem like a know-it-all, but I promise, I’m not. I’m at least as lost as the next person, if not more. I used to be embarrassed when I didn’t have things figured out, but pretending is overrated. Not to mention, it consumes 2x as much time and energy. So, I came to South Korea alone to figure it out.*
Why? Because if I’m afraid of something, I have to do it. There’s a difference between fear and lack of wanting. I don’t want to jump off a cliff because I want to be alive, not because I’m afraid to die. I know better than to attempt an Ironman without training, but I’m not (necessarily) afraid of it. Thank goodness I don’t have to attempt that. My former fear of skiing is another example of the principle in action. I was afraid to ski, so I went skiing. The activity itself turned out to be quite fun, but conquering my fear was much more fun. I was afraid to travel on my own. Three months ago, the idea of planning a trip and spending any amount of time in a foreign place, completely on my own, sounded worse than skiing. Not to mention that I don't know a single Korean word. Instead of attempting to negotiate the offer for my next role, I asked for a week of vacation, and planned a trip to South Korea in ~72 hours. As much as I wished I could go with friends, I knew that I needed to do this alone. As I sit at a cafe in Seoul, I’m pretty sure that I’m where I’m supposed to be. I didn’t need to look at a map of the world to know that this is where I wanted to go, but I did look at one, for fun. Why South Korea? Well, have you heard my story about Japan? I'd love to visit Japan too, next year. With friends.
I owe myself a genuine apology that I’m behind on processing and documentation of such processing. I made it much harder on myself than it needed to be. Lesson learned. Taking a few hours of this trip to process and re-learn to enjoy is worth it. I used to get annoyed with a former partner or two, for asking how my week was, and expecting a full update after being too busy to check in with me for a few days to a week. By the time they’d ask that question, any news was old news. I was ready to move on from the situation, even if I had wished that my person could've been there when I 'needed' them. That’s how I feel about explaining what happened with the work situation for the last 2-3 years. Still semi-relevant, but old news.
The first piece of this pizza puzzle is what to do about intensity: One of the best compliments I ever received was when I was described me as “Intense, but fun.” Unfortunately, I lost sight of the fun at some point. I allowed myself to feel so much pressure that the intensity surpassed its optimal threshold, and encroached on the space for fun. I became afraid that purely having fun would detract from otherwise being able to accomplish my never-ending list of goals. I want to hold myself accountable, so I’m hesitant to say that this mostly wasn’t my fault, but I think that's true given that I wasn’t fortunate enough to have freedom to prioritize my work. Most things that I've accomplished over the last certain period of time had to come out of personal time, or not at all. As a career-oriented person, this prevented me from being present in nearly all of my relationships. I did my best to keep up, but my best wasn’t necessarily good enough. I’m human. I’d rather forgive myself and invest the energy into re-building than to dwell on that impact. If that's affected you in any way, please know that I'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm excited to re-learn how great life can be outside of work.
As much as I love what I do, I used to be a strong advocate for balance. To this day, I still advocate that my friends have balance. How did I let myself get here? Balance requires stability and prioritization. Being constantly overwhelmed by the unpredictable list of priorities put me in a reactive state. Rather than be excited about the next item on the list, as I would be ordinarily, my mind and body unconsciously feared it. It's one of many forms of micro-stress that I experienced, as we all do at one point or another. It’s as if I was trying to catch my breath while running up the next flight of stairs, and still set a record. As much as I did want to set the record, it was also expected of me. The only way I knew how to push forward was to re-purpose the my capacity that was ordinarily meant for fun, so that I could continue to accomplish. AKA meet the unpredictable expectations. Outside of work, some people bring out this intensity in me more than others. I'm as competitive as I am hungry to learn. This means that if I notice that someone else can do something that I can’t yet, I tend to pressure myself to be able to 'keep up' with someone else's standard - whether it's at work or in the gym, etc. While this pattern has helps me achieve great things, and recover from several slumps, it's also a recipe for burnout and feeling that what I do is never enough.
When it comes to relationships, this learned intensity applies in another, unique way. When I decide that I want something, I go after it in every way that I can. Until recently, this meant channeling the intensity towards the 'goal,' without realizing it or intending to. My term for accidentally channeling intense energy, and therefore suffocating the fun with seriousness is called using “spiderwebs.” Any successful spider would likely tell you that spider-webs tend to kill things - if spiders could talk, that is. That’s partially why the spider creates the web in the first place. Once I became aware of this phenomenon in myself, I began to recognize it in others too. Since romantic relationships are the most delicate in their early stages, that’s where I’m guilty of the most damage. These days, when I sense my intensity is above normal, I “collect my spiderwebs.” As weird as it is, I literally picture myself pulling in the strands of the web, similarly to how I used to collect the handles of my parachute before folding it as a child. The main difference is that my parachute was blue, and spiderwebs were pink, obviously. The intensity level is determined based on enjoyment space to have fun. [Romantic] relationships won’t alway be fun, but I always want to reserve space to have fun with whatever I do.
Moving forward, I’ll apply the similar anti-spiderweb principle to regulate intensity levels at work. I must ensure that I set expectations with superiors and colleagues and prioritize in order to maintain the space for fun. In other words, our mind works similarly to a computer. We need a utilization buffer. If we run anywhere near 100%, there’s little room to proactively innovate, or to adjust to factors outside of our control. As things happened outside of my control, I was forced to deploy spiderwebs as a mechanism to establish control. After months of using this brute-force solution professionally, I subconsciously mis-applied the principle to feelings. You can’t brute force feelings, and especially not someone else’s. I’d rather maintain brain utilization around 60% - 70%, so that I have space to re-adjust for factors outside of my control and enjoy life at the same time.
*If you haven't read Brian Weiss’ Many Lives, Many Masters, I'd highly recommend. Thanks to a longstanding recommendation from my closest friend. It was instrumental in helping me slice the pizza.
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