There are two things I’ve come to learn about myself: (1) I have to love what I do in order to excel at it, and (2) I don’t really know what I love to do.
There are lots of things I think I’d love to do – countless ideas of things to work on, endless fantasies of the type of person I could be. But often, after deciding to try something, I’ll realize that maybe it’s not for me.
For example, I’ll think, “I love being creative, I should take up watercolour painting.” So I’ll sign up for a course, enjoy it enough while doing it, but never touch my brushes again after the course ends.
With hobbies, the consequence was just the accumulation of clutter, but it became more problematic with work. I had this pattern of starting jobs with some presumption of why I would love it (“I loved the operational nature of my last company, I think I’d love this ops‑heavy company”, or, “I want to make a positive impact on people, I think I’ll love this healthcare company”), then be maddeningly frustrated at my lack of motivation and mediocre output. I would bang my head asking myself why I couldn’t try harder or anxiously wonder if my best years were behind me.
I left my job at the end of last year and I decided I was tired of feeling this way. I wanted to take some time to reset. If my intuition was so wrong about what I like, then I wanted to take the time to correct it. If I had all these ideas of what I liked, then I wanted to take the time to explore it.
I’m going to use the year to find out. A sabbatical in the truest sense. An opportunity to take one step down all the paths I could take. A year of exploration.