“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”
— Maya Angelou
Tell me if this sounds familiar.
A friend of mine has achieved many goals. She’s built a great company and is proud of her accomplishments. But she also recognizes that it’s time for a change.
“I love what I’ve built, but I’m reconsidering how I can contribute in more meaningful and creative ways,” she told me recently.
She’s admittedly somewhere between stuck and allowing something new to emerge. She cannot decide exactly what this new phase will be, and she’s wrestling with the void of not knowing.
She finds herself reaching for the routines and patterns from before but they are no longer resonating. Why?
Because of this one nagging question: “I keep thinking – who am I to stop and question my pursuits when I’ve come so far and accomplished so much?” she told me.
This is such a common theme right now: So many of us want to do something new, but we aren’t sure what that thing is.
You’ve probably heard advice like this: Just try stuff! Experiment! Don’t worry about 10 years from now, just worry about tomorrow!
This can be sound guidance, but I have a different idea. I actually do think you should commit to something for the next 10 years – but it’s not exactly what you might think.
Today, my aim is to help you get unstuck, make a change, find your next great love… and maybe even define the next decade of your life.
The themes of life
Before I share my perspective, let me tell you about a revelation I had 15 years ago.
It was March of 2010. I had just turned 40, and I was reflecting upon what I’d done in my 30s. It was an eventful decade – I’d built the foundation of an ideal career in tech, gone through a divorce, moved cities three times, started dating a woman I really liked, and ended the decade by starting a dream job doing something I could hardly believe I was getting paid for.
Then it hit me: My 30s were about setting things up.
This meant my 40s would be about maximizing those things – doubling down on the new career path, the new relationship, and the life I’d started.
A decade later, as I was about to turn 50, I returned to this thought. By then, I’d achieved my goal of switching gears – I had replaced my corporate earnings as a business and executive coach, developed some key partnerships that allowed me to stretch in new directions, and I was happily married and living a very good life.
So what would my 50s be about?
I thought about what mattered to me. The answer was autonomy through collaboration. So I came up with an answer: My 50s will be about collaboration as a path to greater freedom.
This might sound illogical – finding more freedom through collaboration. But I’d just spent a chunk of years running hard as a solopreneur; trying mightily to do everything on my own.
Through a collaboration with a peer I admire, I had rediscovered a love of facilitating and teaching. It was in this collaboration that I also rediscovered how much I enjoy being part of a team while still having plenty of autonomy.
I’ve come to think of these chapters as my themes of life. Every decade gets a theme – a loose focus, fulfillable in many ways, and distinct to who I am at the time.
We can’t guess what life will bring us, and we don’t want to set goals too narrowly. As Malcolm Gladwell once said, “Self-perceptions are powerfully limiting.” If we define ourselves or our goals too narrowly, we’ll miss out on all the unexpected opportunities ahead.
So, this is the first part of my advice: If you want to look ahead, don’t narrow the path. Just pick the direction. Think about the theme of your next 10 years.
And this applies to much more than just age.
It’s time to get less specific
Here’s an interesting thought experiment: Think of something ongoing in your life, and try to divide it up into themes.
Maybe it’s your career. Your hobby. Your marriage. Whatever.
Ask yourself:
- Are there distinct periods of time when your focus or actions shifted?
- Can you give these periods of time a name, and think of them as distinct themes? (For example, the way my 30s were “setting things up” and my 40s were “maximizing those things.”)
- Once they all have a name, do you notice a new theme – something you’re maybe just at the beginning of?
I’ve done this for my own work. For example, I started working for myself as a business and executive coach in 2013, and I can break this into 3 themes:
FIRST: I focused on building my business and replacing my corporate earnings.
THEN: I also built my own brand (developing my distinct voice and audience) with a podcast, blog, and occasional speaking engagements.
NOW: I’m using my skills, interests, and experience to partner with other organizations as a fractional coach/facilitator/instructor while also advising a select few entrepreneurs (collaborating in partnerships that make sense while maintaining my freedom and autonomy).
It’s essentially the same role. Same title. Same original responsibilities. But it’s not exactly the same. I am not the same person who started as a solo-coach in 2013. My needs and interests evolved, which meant my values and goals evolved too. And by recognizing this, I can be more clear-eyed about the new opportunities that energize me.
So, what is it for you? And now, how can you use this thinking to plan your next phase?
Your next big theme
I told all this to my friend who’s looking for her next thing. Then I asked her a question:
“Don’t think about a specific project you want to do for the next 10 years,” I said. “Instead, what’s a theme you want for the next 10 years?”
That prompted an interesting conversation. She thought about what frustrates and excites her these days. She’s feeling exhausted in her role and overwhelmed with the state of the world and politics; maybe she’s ready for a “decade of purposeful contribution”? She recently discovered a love of writing poetry; maybe she’s ready for a “decade of creativity”?
The point isn’t to come up with easy or specific answers. The point is to start recognizing patterns.
Your life is not a random series of events. It is an evolution – you strive for one thing, which inspires another, which evolves into another. It’s okay for things to change. It’s okay to want something, and then not want it in the same way anymore. It’s okay to achieve something, and then set off to achieve something else.
This is what I like to call pursuing your next deeply meaningful endeavor. It’s a process of acknowledging your wins, following your interests, and honoring your curiosity.
What’s the theme for this phase of your life? Move with curiosity towards the next step.
That’s what I call purposeful evolution.
Live bravely,
Michael
