Have you ever reached for something you deeply wanted, only to realize that everything you thought you knew about getting there suddenly feels wrong? That disorienting moment when your tried-and-true methods crumble, but your desire burns brighter than ever? As Shane Parrish notes, “Great work requires being stubborn about your goals but flexible about your methods.”
As I wrestle with turning 50, I’ve been relentless in clarifying what I truly want out of life, and what I want my life to mean. I believe we all have a message for humanity, and until recently I accepted the “spray and pray” advice of most would-be thought leaders. Maximize your presence on as many platforms as possible, the spray, and pray that an audience gathers. It’s exhausting. As I clarified what I really wanted to share, I realized it wasn’t about curating the perfect but giving the honest. Rather than making each contribution perfect, which often paralyzed me, I decided to simply be imperfectly generous. To give what I’ve got, to whoever would listen, and to let it ride. For some reason, the same impulse of midlife that triggers the reflections can also falsely communicate an urgency. We confuse clarity for urgency and tend to grasp at an all-of-the-above strategy rather than a slow, targeted, but honest one.
Midlife has become a laboratory for unraveling systems and thinking patterns that were built around what I thought I wanted. I’m discovering that the process of clarifying what truly matters brings with it a sea of uncertainty. The fascinating part? Just when your goals and values finally align with your life’s purpose, you realize the real work is only beginning. The clarity of purpose must be accompanied by personally aligned methods. Honest and consistent methods may slow the process but they purify it and therefore ensure your progress towards it.
My own journey with this became crystal clear as I’ve pursued goals around influence and legacy. What I thought would get me there – the strategies I’d carefully crafted – suddenly felt hollow or ineffective. The methods I’d sworn by started feeling like outdated maps for a territory that had fundamentally changed. Yet the destination, the core purpose, remained unwavering.
This pattern isn’t just personal observation. We’ve all heard the saying, “quitters never win, and winners never quit.” But this cliché needs some clarification. In his book “The Dip,” Seth Godin articulates the crucial distinction: winners quit often and early, but only when it comes to strategies and methods that aren’t serving their ultimate goals. They’re ruthless about abandoning distractions and dilutions while remaining steadfast in their core pursuits. Research in adaptive performance supports this, suggesting that cognitive flexibility – the ability to adjust strategies while maintaining clear objectives – is a key predictor of long-term success.
Take a moment to reflect:
- What goals have remained constant in your life, even as your methods for achieving them have evolved?
- Where might you be confusing loyalty to a method with loyalty to your actual goal?
- What would become possible if you held your goals firmly but your methods loosely?
The path forward emerges through a simple but powerful framework:
- Clarify vision and purpose with unwavering honesty
- Assess current systems and actions
- Reflect on their alignment with your core goals
- Learn from others through mastermind connections
- Act decisively, but remain open to pivots
Here’s your invitation for today: Choose one important goal and list every method you’re currently using to achieve it. For each method, ask yourself: “If I had to achieve this goal without this particular approach, how might I do it?” This simple exercise often reveals both our attachments to particular methods and new possibilities we hadn’t considered.
Remember, the path to achievement isn’t just about learning new strategies – it’s about unlearning what no longer serves us while keeping our eyes fixed on what matters most. Let your purpose be your guide as you navigate this journey of perpetual unlearning and discovery.