The Art of Productive Exploration
Lots of ideas, but no clue if anything will work
This is the closest I’ve gotten to the deadline for writing the newsletter. It’s a self-imposed deadline, to be sure, but for well over a year, I’ve sent this newsletter out at 9 a.m. on Wednesday, and I’m sure as hell not going to break that streak now.
However, I’m having trouble deciding what to write about. Although I have many ideas, none seem to fit the current situation.
I wrote something yesterday afternoon, but I hated it. I hoped ChatGPT would compensate for my lack of brainpower, but instead, it made me sound robotic and too much like an influencer who is like here’s five steps to kick start your career! After talking to a friend and consulting ChatGPT and Claude, I still wasn’t sure, so I went to bed early, waking up at 6 a.m. to finally write something.
A few weeks ago, I offered to conduct 15-minute sessions with anyone who wanted to brainstorm, vent, review their resume, and/or discuss transitioning from policy/politics into tech or from tech into policy. (That offer still stands if anyone wants to chat.) These sessions have been terrific, as I’ve met many new people and reconnected with some old friends and colleagues. I hate that it’s not under better circumstances, but it strikes me how so many people I’ve met lately, from those in their 70s to their 20s, are trying to figure out where they want to put their energy next.
I’m in the same boat. My two most significant projects in the last few months will have ended by Friday. I’m chasing new clients and projects, too. And now, the field is significantly more crowded than when I went out four years ago.
And I can’t help but let the self-doubt creep in. A friend I talked to last night reminded me that secondhand trauma is a thing. In hearing people’s stories, whether those affected by the Federal Government cuts or Meta’s decisions, I’m reminded of my own. This morning, as I was making my coffee, I realized that I decided to start Anchor Change four years ago and go out on my own. It was fourteen years ago when I walked into the Facebook campus for the first time.
All of those feelings have been flooding back the last few weeks.
I poured all of this into Claude.ai last night and noted how I feel pulled to my writing, but I don’t know if that will pay the bills. It reminded me of the cocooning stage I link to in my piece about mapping out my post-Facebook journey. Much like during the pandemic, we are grieving what’s been lost but unsure of the future. I’m just going to reprint this full quote from this piece. It was written in May of 2020, but it works today:
“Now the shock is subsiding, we are spending a little less time railing about wanting our ‘old life’ back and we are entering a new stage that will likely last a few months. A stage where we can begin to make minor pivots, to make simple plans and to develop the art of a much shorter view.
Pivots, short term plans, and a growing recognition and appreciation that as a human race, we ache at finding ourselves at odds with our own lives and routines. That’s our work in stage two of these extraordinary times. Small changes and simple plans allow us to find some sense of new normalcy. Small pivots can feel safe and reasonable – small ways to expand one’s territory that creates a sense of more freedom to move. For now, most of us will find little comfort investing in designing a longer view. Instead, adapting to a shorter view and adjusting our horizon into two or three month segments is likely to calm anxieties and allow us to experience a stronger sense of focus and ease in this astonishing moment.”
Claude called it productive exploration and reminded me that “exploration itself has inherent value, even when the outcomes aren't immediately visible or guaranteed. It's about creating space for discovery while maintaining a sense of purpose.”
Part of me is anxious to get on with it. On Monday, I received a few speaking inquiries and talked to a potential client. I was on top of the world. I woke up Tuesday feeling dread. The roller coaster of emotions is real, and I needed to write this to remind myself to take a deep breath and keep exploring because the ideas are flowing. But I also hope that if you are in this spot, it helps you know you aren’t alone.