the fear of patterns
and the love for a new year
I’ve been here before. The familiar feeling of the reset button, activated every 365 days. The excitement the first few times after graduating was real. It was an excuse to try a new approach the following year.
It’s my seventh Christmas since graduating college. Usually, it only takes a few years before a pattern emerges. The fear of a pattern is due to the extrapolation of the following year before you even get a chance to let things happen. If I didn’t do that one thing for seven years, what makes me think I’ll do it on the eighth?
The first few years post graduation were exciting. The universe does its thing, and you recognize that you’re just a pawn to the world’s energy, waiting to see what happens next. Expect one thing, only to be surprised by how the year went. Hopefully for the better.
As history starts suggesting a pattern, it’s felt more important than ever to regain control of the driver seat. A pattern creates expectations, and expectations creates friction. And just a little friction is all it takes for something to decay to inertia.
The beginning of this year was when the emerging pattern invited itself. I didn’t want to say yes. Being intentional was more important than ever. It frequently meant doing things that my gut yelled not to do. I could feel the headwinds, both internally and externally. Am I going to fail my personal goals again? Am I going to continue struggling with defining my longer term career? Am I going to be the same as I was a year ago? Are my best years behind me?
They’re all valid questions. I’d have to be delusional if I were to believe that the year went perfectly. There were plenty of failures this year. But the existence of failure suggests the existence of courageously trying. And I think that is pretty cool.
I walked away from every little failure with big lessons for myself. They’re great learnings and they also teach me whether the lack of that success leaves me feeling incomplete or if it leaves me longing for more. Not every battle is worth it, and sometimes the best thing to do is to walk away. Other times, it’s not a bad idea to tackle the following year with a chip on the shoulder. I didn’t run the number of miles I set out this year. I didn’t go as deep into ML engineering as I’d hoped this year. I also didn’t get to spend as much time as I’d like with friends and family. But also, I don’t think I’d change anything about this year.
That’s because the wins were worth it this year. Beyond the outcomes themselves, I like how I pushed myself this year. There were a lot of “hardests” this year. I ran the hardest I’ve ever run, I worked the hardest I’ve ever worked. I even danced the hardest I’ve ever danced at Portola to Sammy Virji. I liked my priorities.
Intentionality isn’t born out of thin air. To me, intentionality was born from the regret of lacking it in previous years. There’s a point where if you want something for too long with nothing to show for it, the want starts becoming a reminder of your inability to do anything. There’s a process to becoming more intentional, and it’s not a part of any silver spoon.
Something I overheard about MIT was how their students to be able to persevere through any technical problem. Maybe it’s because they’re instilled with enough intellectual pride through admission that they don’t think there’s any problem that they can’t solve. My intern this past summer was a D1 rower and I loved the contagious energy he brought both as an MIT student and as an athlete. The quality that shined the most was the absence of excuses and a focus on what needs to be done, whether it was on an engineering problem or a physical feat. He made it easy for me to trust him. I loved that level of agency. He was inspiring.
And he wasn’t the only inspiring one. I’ve loved soaking in this energy from many this year. I’m lucky to work with some incredibly smart people who are not only experts at their technical craft but also their personal interests. I’ve loved talking to them about their passion and it fires me up for my own passions. It’s been empowering to disbelieve beliefs about myself and intentionally believe in new ones. The way I’ve approached it is by doing the following:
Why can’t I do it? I like to first dig down to understand the root cause, whether it’s trauma, fear, anxiety, or something else.
What’s the worst thing that could happen if I do it, and can I prevent the worst case scenario? Obviously, diving straight into the deep end is reckless. Preparation is your best friend.
How do I break it down into smaller challenges? The smaller, the better. Planning is useful, but plans can be useless.
How do I get started on the first step? By getting started, how much fear and anxiety can I shed from my relationship with this challenge?
Do I enjoy the process? There’s no point in pursuing a challenge if it doesn’t present any joy. Not all battles are worth pursuing. To me, the journey should be the goal, not the destination.
It’s fun to dissect why there’s a certain disdain and how I can solve it. It feels like a series of internal knots, waiting to be elegantly untied. It comes in the form of an inner dialogue, shoveling through memories that have collected dust. Then when the dots get connected, you feel in control. I’ve always preached to focus on what can be controlled, but it’s also easy to think that there isn’t a lot that can be controlled. As an optimist, I want to believe that there’s way more in our control than we think.
But one doesn’t start by boiling the ocean upon discovering the science of boiling water. There’s levels to this like everything else. If you were a protagonist and you were destined to do the thing, what would you do? Gun to head, how would you make it happen? Many of us are fortunate enough to have the existence of the many first baby steps. It’s a privilege that isn’t granted forever. When privilege is given, it must be exercised.
The thought that I didn’t exercise privilege in the past haunts me. I knew that I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try. It feels like there’s stigma in trying, maybe because of high school. But really, I believe that the cost of trying is free. There’s so much I want to try in this little life. And I don’t mean trying something once. Some things, I want to feel the long journey. Others, I want to feel the growth. And for many, I just can’t help but be a little curious.
So here were a few challenges that I enjoyed trying to tackle this year:
Marathon: I feared injury, and I made up for it with preparation, spreadsheets and finding joy in running through weekly slow runs with friends.
Making new friends: There’s something scary about making new friends as an adult, especially when everyone already has their friends. I think I had the wrong ideas of what to expect out of old and new friends and when I set better internal expectations, I found that making new friends and strengthening existing ones gradually felt easier.
Snowboarding: I hated it after trying it once as a kid and hurting my neck. I gave it a shot again this year and was able to carve down a green comfortably on my first day!
Becoming a designer again: I always had this preconceived notion of what designers were supposed to be like and how it wasn’t me. Going back to first principles, it’s clear that design is more about craft than identity and I know where I stand in the craft of design.
Being more emotional: I’ve loved becoming more in tune with my emotions, feeling more vulnerable and being more unapologetically loving.
Reading: I used to hate reading. Caltrain rides and coffee shops were a great way to read a few pages a day. It got to a point where reading was a part of my relaxation diet instead of a chore which is a great relationship to have.
The wins were the least important part of the year though. Every moment was special in its own way this year. A few memorable moments this year:
Birthday trip to Vancouver with my best friends
Getting to work with my childhood best friend at Codeium
Launching Windsurf with the best team ever and watching it go viral on Twitter
Dancing at Sammy Virji’s music set with many friends
Climbing Mt Fuji with a close friend
Seeing so many close friends during my first marathon and giving them sweaty hugs during the race
Watching Steph Curry dominate and pull off a miracle comeback in the Olympics
Running a one mile race with Codeium
Seeing my best friends get married in Hawaii
Watching the movie sequel of one of my favorite animes in LA
Meeting cool friends through the internet and meeting them in person
Traveling Asia with my best friend
Evolving my writing here to be just a little more creative, fun and me
What a year it’s been. If a pattern was to emerge, then I hope it points to how things will change as opposed to how things will be. That’s what I believe makes a good year. Let’s make this new year a good one :) Happy new year!
