The Introspective Thinker

Personal Development

Taking the Plunge: A Year Later

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It’s hard to believe that it’s been exactly one year to the day that I took the plunge into uncertainty. I had recently quit my job, had moved back to LA, and was gearing up for a nine-month sojourn in Taiwan before returning to grad school. I had no idea what I was doing. Some supported my decision and called it brave, while  others called it selfish and reckless. Regardless, the decision to leave had passed. I had made my bed, and it was now time to lie in it.

A year later, and I’m amazed at how much my plans changed. I never stayed in Taiwan for nine months. I studied for a semester, then briefly traveled around Southeast Asia before returning back to the States. I deferred (then declined) my offer for grad school; instead, I found a career with a great company working on some really cool projects.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from this past year of uncertainty, it’s this: JUST DO IT!

Quit thinking so much. Just do it.

Obviously, easier said than done. As a researcher, I tend to think a lot – in some cases, way too much. Moreover, as someone who has a low tolerance for risk, thinking through possible consequences is just a logical part of the process of decision making. To the point that thinking about something feels more important than doing something about it. The issue, however, is of course that we get into analysis paralysis. You know, that feeling where you’ve spent weeks (or months, or even years) thinking about doing something, without ever having done anything at all. This has got to stop. I’m serious!

The Just Do It Test

Over the course of the year, I’ve developed implicitly a quick test to help me in all my decision making. It’s really simple actually. I just ask these three questions:

  1. What do I want to do? (i.e., specific objective)
  2. Why do I want to do it? (i.e., commitment assessment)
  3. What will it take to do it? (i.e., resource allocation)

It’s my own way of thinking whether something is worthwhile to pursue. While there’s nothing earth shattering about each question, the difference I think is that I always impose a time limit to consider these questions. For me, that time limit is one season.

Especially for really drastic changes, such as quitting one’s job, embarking on a new venture, or other endeavor, I think a full 90 days provides more than enough time to really assess the pros and cons of any major decision. If after three months the answers to these questions change, I either drop the plan and cut losses, or head back to the drawing board to consider alternatives. Some might find a full season too much or too little time, but that duration is reflective of my own personal tolerance for risk.

So there you go. Those questions are what helped me to really get through this year of uncertainty. It helped me decide not to stay in Taiwan, to travel around Southeast Asia, to move back to DC, to not go to grad school, to find a career, etc.

I’d love to learn about what are the critical pieces you consider whenever you need to make a critical juncture!

 

Trapped in Time

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If there’s one thing that I’ve come to embrace wholeheartedly in the past two years, it’s that change is inevitable. As a resident living in one of the most transient cities in the states, change has become so commonplace in my life that, to not be in an environment that’s in constant flux feels downright strange.

So, you can imagine how caught off guard I felt being back in an environment that, with few exceptions, felt like time had forgotten. Set along rolling hills of pastures dotted with sheep, horses, and cows, the south side of the Big Island, known as Ka’u, is one of the most isolated and least developed parts of Hawaii. I’ve been heading to this part of the island for years to visit my grandparents. Things don’t change all much over here. The sounds here are timeless: the pitter-patter of rain falling on the corrugated tin roofs, the chickens crowing throughout the day, the whir of cars and mopeds passing down the street.

For me, this area is the epitome of rural America, with a Hawaiian-twist. Like any other rural region, Ka’u suffers from similar issues shared throughout rural America: subpar healthcare, limited education and job opportunities, and abandoned homes due to depopulation. Despite these challenges, a tight-knit and strong sense of community and a feeling of simplicity are some aspects of rural life that I greatly admire; however, being back here affirms my belief that, regardless of the challenges that arise from change, I need change in my life. Places that lack change, at least for me, feel both limiting and stifling. It might not always be for the best, but change, whether positive or negative, always presents opportunities for growth. And for me, as a young twenty-something just trying to figure out life, growth is all that I can ask for.

Lessons from StartingBloc

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What happens when you take 100 young professionals with a passion for social innovation, place them in a room for 8 hours each day for 5 days, and end each night at nearby bars? 

Magic happens. 

At least that’s what I took away after attending StartingBloc’s New York 2012 Institute for Social Innovation. StartingBloc is a people incubator that provides social innovators the skills, tools, and community they need to succeed in addressing the most pressing global challenges. I had heard a lot about StartingBloc from friends and colleagues, so I felt comfortable knowing what I was getting myself into. While I found the lectures helpful, what I’ll remember most were the aspects of the institute that I did not expect. For me, they were:

Being Incredibly Vulnerable
What truly makes the StartingBloc experience unique, in my opinion, is its ability to quickly create an environment of openness and vulnerability. On the first day, candidates find themselves sharing with others (i.e., strangers still at this point) their hopes and dreams. By day two, they’re pitching the projects they find personally soul-moving to a crowd of more than 100. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Throughout the whole experience, I kept thinking back to Brené Brown’s Ted Talk on the Power of Vulnerability. The following quote from the talk really captures the role vulnerability played, at least for me, during the Institute:

“Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

Confronting My  Public Speaking Anxiety
I’ve always hated public speaking. Since moving to the East Coast, public speaking and presenting (whether through phone or in-person) has increasingly been a big weakness. During the conference, I purposefully forced myself to take center stage: the first time to share my idea on Reducing Hopelessness, the second for my team’s pitch during the social innovation case competition.  Although I was well aware that my pitch was a little shaky and hinted at my nervousness, I was surprised by how calm I felt when presenting (re: doing improv) for the case competition. Doing improv really showed me that public speaking comes in different forms. Perhaps this might be a new way for me to reframe and tackle my struggles with public speaking.

The Power of the Network
One of the more eye-opening exercises we did during the institute was to group together and discuss our needs and wants. I went into the exercise thinking I’d be unable to help much.  As a newbie in the world of social innovation and entrepreneurship, I thought to myself, “How could I possibly have access to resources of interest to others?” Wrong. I discovered that I actually had a lot to offer. The exercise taught me an unexpected lesson: don’t underestimate what you know and who you know — just share!

Closing Thoughts
I still can’t believe that my Institute experience is already offer. It was without a doubt one of the most exhausting experiences I’ve ever had in my life. Learning and sharing with a community of like-minded individuals was absolutely amazing. Speaking with everyone and hearing about their passions really infused me with newfound motivation to continue working on the things that I’m most passionate about: technology, foreign policy and mental health. Time to start (or rather, continue) getting work done!

 

Intrinsic vs. Extrinsic Motivation

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How do you stay motivated when the things that once motivated you no longer do?

I’ve been thinking a lot about this question of late. In his book, Drive, Daniel Pink looks at the motivations that drive people. One of the concepts he discusses is the comparison between those who are motivated by extrinsic factors, Type X’s, to those who are motivated by intrinsic factors, Type I’s.

For most of my life, I’d unequivocally consider myself a Type X. Until college, my goals were fairly straightforward: upward social mobility. A year after college, I felt like I had arrived.  I had achieved upward mobility. I wasn’t wealthy, but I certainly felt like I had come far since childhood. I hadn’t achieved any prestige or power, but these points seemed moot now that I was in a position of growing financial independence.

Having felt like I arrived, for the past year or so, I’ve been in a rut trying to figure out why I no longer had that “fire-in-the-belly” feeling I had while growing up.  Pink writes about an experiment that showed how using extrinsic motivators (such as those that propelled me) are not sustainable, nor do they lead to greater satisfaction:

“The people who had purpose goals and felt they were attaining them reported higher levels of satisfaction and subjective well-being. Those who said they were attaining their (extrinsic) goals – accumulating wealth, winning acclaim – reported levels of satisfaction, self-esteem, and positive affect no higher than when they were students. They’d reached their goals, but it didn’t make them any happier.”

I think for me, and perhaps for many others, extrinsic motivators are far more alluring because they are more tangible to conceptualize. It’s a lot easier to strive towards external goals than to be motivated purely by the intrinsic utility derived by the journey itself. Quite simply, extrinsic motivations such as attending a prestigious university or earning a high-income have visible results, whereas the results of intrinsic motivators may not be as apparent.  Although I can’t say I’m no longer a Type X person, I can say I am trying hard to be more of a Type I. My experiences over the past year have taught me that living a life of meaning is so much more fulfilling than a life striving for more fame and fortune.

That’s enough from me. I’d really like to know what your thoughts are on motivation. What motivates you? And more importantly, why?