Using Experimentation to Explore Three Themes in 2023

Plans are made to be broken and goals are simply a snapshot in time. Both have a misleading way of giving a sense of clarity and certainty that rarely lasts long. I am no friend of predicting-and-planning my way into inevitable disappointment when my best laid January plans inevitably become June pains. I'm supposed to set a goal today that's going to be relevant and worthwhile and motivating seven months from now? I barely know what I need to do next week.

That being said, I do think there's something to be said for intentionality. I think themes are a nice way to put some very light guardrails around some intentions without turning them into a yearlong goal-slog. Even better than guardrails, articulating a theme is a way to create a useful attentional lens that you can use in surprising ways to notice what's going on around you in new ways.

I've used theme(s) in the past, but I've never tried to use them in explicit conjunction with my other favorite method -- the personal experiment. It seems like an obvious connection, though, right? Set a theme or two that basically gives a useful directional heading for the year and then use relatively short (one to three week) personal experiments to explore within those themes. So, that's what I'm going to try this year: set a couple broad themes that describe the general areas I feel like I need to explore this year and commit to running as many experiments that investigate, challenge, and push against those themes as I can usefully metabolize over the next twelve months.

In no particular order, here are the three general themes I want to use to bring some structure to my personal experimentation in 2023.

Focusing

As David Allen says, the better you get the better you'd better get. I'm seven and a half years into an intense consulting career. As I've gotten better at my job I've found myself in progressively more complex environments that seem to regularly come with higher-stakes moments than ever before. I love it, but it requires that I keep getting better at what I do. If I stay stagnant I will get overwhelmed. One way to stay stagnant is to constantly feel like I'm being pulled in many directions simultaneously and not actually developing deeper expertise in anything.

One of the things I've learned about myself is that because I have such well-considered and robust systems for being productive, I have a tendency to take on way too much. Because my capacity for work is high, it's very easy for me to fill that capacity with relatively low-impact busywork that fills the hours but doesn't necessarily create the outcomes I want to see. It's time for me to really start figuring out how to eliminate those attractive nuisances and focus on the highest impact stuff that only I can do.

Possible Areas to Experiment

  • What kinds of caps/rules/limits can I put in my days/weeks that will force me to get better rather than just working harder?

  • What commitments feel inviolable but are actually distractions? Do I have what it takes to step away from them?

  • How do I better match the type of work to the energy it needs? How do I build the most important work I have to do into my most naturally energetic periods of time?

  • What does it look like to take my existing hobbies and interests deeper?

  • How can you be a curious person and also focused?

  • What does it look like to always take the most direct moves from where I am to where I want to be?


Relating

I often focus on myself too much. I can take my interest in personal development too far and in doing so become insular. I often lose sight of the fact that I'm part of a network of relationships that are incredibly important to me. I'm a new husband as of this year. I have four younger brothers who are my best friends but also live many states away. As The Ready grows I have friends/colleagues who I used to work with side-by-side every day but now only seem to see or talk to a couple times a year. I have friends from graduate school who I only periodically exchange text messages with. I don't need to sustain every friendship forever and I don't need every friendship to be deeply intimate. But I wonder if I'd feel better about myself and my life if I spend more time and energy on my relationships in 2023?

Possible Areas to Experiment

  • If Emily and I are going to stay in the Washington D.C. area long-term, as it looks like we might, are we building relationships with people and building community here?

  • What's the right cadence and format for keeping my most important relationships healthy?

  • How can I be a better friend? Brother? Son? Husband?

  • I've neglected my social life pretty consistently for most of my life. Is that something I want to do? Am I missing something by being aggressively reluctant to "do things"?

Creating

A solid 75% of my journal entries from 2022 were me lamenting that I wasn't writing enough and how terrible that made me feel. I know I only tend to feel my best when I'm consistently writing. I used to think this was evidence of some kind of latent narcissism that was looking for a way to express itself. I worried that my writing was a way to demonstrate my intelligence to people I admired. Writing as head-pat-mechanism, basically. I've recently learned I really don't think it's about that for me (although I won't turn down a head-pat from someone I admire). It's the fact that writing consistently means I'm thinking consistently. And, on the flip side, if I'm not writing it means I'm not actually thinking very deeply about much of anything. I want to be a deep thinker. I want to wrestle with big questions and make sense of the world around me. I can only do that if I'm regularly prioritizing the time to make my thinking visible (even if only to myself).

When I don't write enough I feel like I'm wearing a damp sweater that I can't take off. It's profoundly uncomfortable and all encompassing. Every subtle movement is a reminder that this sucks. Sometimes, it even seems like I don't have the power to remove it. Which is stupid, right? I can just take it off. I could just write more. That's it. Simple. It's time to hang the Damp Sweater of Non-Creation in the closet and never look at it again.

Possible Areas to Experiment

  • How much do I need to write in a given day, week, month to feel like I did enough? Is it time-based? Page-based? Publication-based? Something else?

  • How much can I write in a week?

  • What types of writing should I experiment with more?

  • What would it look like to make a concerted effort to actually participate in social media more (rather than primarily as a consumer)?

  • How can I lean into working-in-public while still having the patience and discipline to spend the right amount of time to create something really great?

  • Can I build some sort of momentum around a body of work related to The Deliberate?


My intention is to use my Deliberate Pattern Library as the ongoing record of what experiments I'm doing throughout the year and what I'm learning from them.

I imagine I'll write about most of the experiments as I do them in The Deliberate, too. I'm not necessarily going to hold myself to always be running an experiment (it can be nice to take a break) but I imagine more often than not I'll be doing something toward one of these themes (even if it's quite small or simple). I'm also not saying that I won't do an experiment that doesn't align with one of these themes if it feels useful or interesting.


Ultimately, I'm hoping the commitment to both themes and a rhythm of experimentation will help me uncover the things that I'm not even thinking about right now. These three themes of Focusing, Relating, and Creating have interesting overlaps, tensions, and implications that I can't see from my vantage point today. Only by digging into them through experimentation will I start to uncover what they have in store for me.

An Experiment in Focus, Space, and Making Progress on Something Difficult

Today, Friday, July 8th, I’m commencing a four-week experiment centered on the need to make progress on an important project. In what I’m hoping isn’t a too egregious case of cultural appropriation, I’m calling it Monk Mode.

This article, and this experiment more broadly, are part of the project that I’m trying to optimize my environment and my mental state to make progress on. This thread is a good overview of the intention. Broadly, I absolutely must make progress on capturing, codifying, and articulating the swirling ideas that make up The Deliberate. My feint toward writing a book proposal at the end of last year’s sabbatical was my first true attempt at figuring out whether the things I’ve been writing and thinking about for the better part of 11 years could be coalesced into something coherent. The proposal itself was a failure in the sense that I didn’t finish it or shop it around, but it was a grand success in that it helped push me in a more productive direction in how I think about all of this stuff. I realized that I don’t want to contrast it against “self-help.” I realized that it’s about more than just self-experimentation. I realized that it’s about uniting an intense desire for personal growth without using dissatisfaction or guilt as the driving force. It’s both intensely philosophical and almost simplistically practical.

Since then I’ve been writing a bit, tinkering with the idea of Deliberate Patterns and a public Deliberate Pattern Library quite a bit, and feel like I might be ready to take another stab at pulling these tangled threads into something more than the Gordian Knot they seem to be right now. Perhaps the attempted book proposal in September of last year was the slice that slew the Gordian Knot and I’ve been organizing the fallout since then. Can I do something with these newly separated, discrete, and separated threads? That’s what this experiment is all about.

Frankly, it’s also about doing something to honor these ideas enough that they will finally leave me alone. I’ve felt like I have something profound to say about these ideas for the better part of a decade and not figuring out the words — or more accurately, not making the time and space so that I can figure out the words — is  driving me crazy. I need these ideas to leave me alone. I need to give them a home so they can stop living in my head.

Sometimes Deliberate Patterns are about making small tweaks to your life. So small that they seem almost inconsequential and yet, in my experience, these small tweaks often open up new lines of inquiry and self-knowledge that I could not have predicted. This experiment, Monk Mode, is not that. This is more in the realm of what we would call “radical change at (relatively) non-radical scale.” In Cal Newport’s parlance from Deep Work, this experiment is a Grand Gesture. A Grand Gesture is a seismic shift in your normal routine that signifies and amplifies the importance, in your own mind, of the thing you’re setting out to do. Monk Mode is deliberately disruptive because I need my brain to treat this project with the proper gravity.

So, what about Monk Mode is going to be so disruptive? Here’s my current list of “rules” and routine modifications for this endeavor:

  • Twitter, Reddit, Instagram, all podcasts, and 99% of all my notifications are no longer accessible through my phone.

  • I need to complete at least one hour of a focused (no distractions) work session every day.

  • All workouts/triathlon training must happen without headphones.

  • I need to complete at least one 20 minute meditation session every day.

  • I need to listen to the same music during my focused work session (Tycho) every day.

  • I need to do a very brief written reflection (just a couple sentences) before I go to sleep about how the day went.

  • I need to put my Playstation, Switch, Oculus, and guitar in a closet.

Everything in the list above, and the new things I will undoubtedly add to it over the coming weeks, is about creating space and silence. Difficult and complex writing endeavors require both of these things (at least for me). The ideas I need to develop and eventually cohere into something sensible are not going to be served by a surface-level effort any longer. I’m already good at surface-level. Almost everything I’ve done for the past decade is a result of my ability to do good surface-level work. But it’s time to see if I can do something a little bit more complex and a little more rich than my normal fare. I need these ideas to simmer like a good chili — low and slow to let the flavors develop into something more than the sum of their parts.

This experiment is happening along side my normal and relatively intense (at least cognitively/intellectually intense) day job at The Ready. Hence the relatively low time commitment to focused work on this project. I hope I can muster more than an hour every day, but even just an hour of focused effort a day paired with the space and silence for the ideas to keep marinating in between sessions will represent a phase change in the quality of attention I’ve given this project in… probably ever.

And as far as the project itself goes? Well, I’m letting that emerge. I don’t know if this thing needs to become a book or a series of articles or a series of talks or some other creative output that I haven’t even conceptualized, yet. What matters is that I create something that feels like the canonical version of my best thinking on these topics. I want it to be something that is inspiring and useful to the people like me who find this way of thinking and living interesting and exciting and would love to connect to other people who think this way and want a bit of a framework to work with. Basically, I want to write what 11 year ago me was looking for and unable to find when he first started down this path of thinking about the intersection of attention, personal development, and philosophy. If I can make that version of myself happy then I think this version of myself can be happy, too.


Subscribe to The Deliberate to stay up to date on how this experiment, and all my future work around these topics, goes. Twitter is also another place to get a slightly more unfiltered look into what I’m thinking about and working on.

A Race Report From My First Triathlon

Near the tail end of my sabbatical during the summer of 2021 I decided to explore getting into triathlons. It had always been something bouncing around the back of my head, but for various reasons had never really taken the plunge in a meaningful way. One used road bike and a gym-with-a-pool membership later, I was on the path to my first triathlon. Now, roughly seven months of extremely consistent training, I’m looking back at actually completing my first one.

To quickly set the stage, my fitness starting point in September 2021 was:

  • No real swimming ability. I could functionally swim, like, to survive. But swimming more than 50 meters without my heart exploding seemed impossible.

  • No real running ability. Around the time I started training I could maybe run 1 or 2 miles without my shins hurting and my lungs exploding.

  • I did not own a bike. But I did have strong quads from years of ice hockey so I thought I would maybe be okay at it?

With the preliminaries out of the way, let’s dig into it.

The race was the Sprint distance (750 meter swim, 12 mile bike ride, 3.1 mile run) and it was held a little over two hours away from my home in Northern Virginia. Luckily, I was not really worried about my ability to complete any of the three disciplines. I regularly do workouts much longer than each of these distances at this point — although I had never done all three disciplines in one day. The other question mark was the swim. I train in a pool where swimming in a straight line is a matter of following a painted line on the bottom of the pool and the water never gets colder than 80 degrees. This swim was done in a lake where I could see nothing when I looked down and the water temperature was in the low 60s. I had done one 10ish minute swim in the pool with my wetsuit and one 15ish minute swim in a much colder lake two days before the race. This would definitely be my longest open water swim up to this point and while I knew I could do the distance, I also knew there was no grabbing onto the edge of the pool or standing up in chest deep water to catch my breath.

Friday

Emily and I wrapped up our work days a couple hours early, loaded up our car, and made the two and a half hour drive down to the race location. The aim was to make sure we could find it, pick up my race packet, and generally just scope out the area. I should’ve had “drive the bike course” on my list of things to do (foreshadowing). 

We arrived, parked, and I flew through the packet pickup line in a matter of maybe 45 seconds. Kinetic Multiport runs a tight ship! The only notable thing about packet pickup was that I received race number 404, which made me audibly laugh when I received it (much to the confusion of the nice volunteer who handed it to me). I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad omen. Either way, my tech nerd friends on Twitter appreciated it.

After walking around the transition area, seeing the swim start and exit, and generally taking in the sights, Emily and I went off in search of dinner. We wanted something simple and familiar so we found a Panera and I had a small bowl of soup and a steak sandwich. From there, a quick drive to the hotel and early to bed!

Saturday

Pre-Race & Warmup

Since this race was only an Olympic and Sprint, it didn’t start until 9:00 (and the Sprint participants didn’t actually take off until 9:30). That meant I was able to get up at my usual time of 6:00 and eat my usual breakfast of oatmeal and coffee around my usual time of 6:15. Pretty perfect timing, digestion-wise.

We got in the car a little after 7:00 and made the drive out to the race location (a scenic 30 minute drive through the woods and fields of Virginia). Parked, got my bike off the car rack, and headed straight to transition to find a spot and setup my gear. As this was my first ever triathlon, I wasn’t quite sure what the optimal layout was for all my stuff. I definitely copied some of the folks around me but mostly just thought it through from first principles and then stood in front of it all and visualized myself going through each transition and putting on/taking off each piece of gear. I was a little worried I’d forget I needed my helmet on and buckled before handling my bike, so that was on the top of everything. I also put a piece of red electrical tape on the seat of my bike, thinking it might be easier to just look for the red tape when I’m stumbling through the transition after my swim and realizing that everyone’s bike kind of looks the same. I ended up not needing it because I found a pretty good landmark for my spot (first rack after the volleyball court).

When I felt that I more or less had everything laid out the way I wanted I packed up my backpack with my wetsuit and other non-transition-area paraphernalia and found Emily to go kill some time. We had well over an hour before I needed to start warming up so we just found a picnic table for a bit and walked around. Hit the port-a-potties once or twice and once it got close to the Olympic start time, I started doing some light calisthenics to warm up and threw on my wetsuit. With the Olympic athletes starting their swim, I went to a place on the beach far from where they were and got into the water and did maybe 100-150 meters of warming up. Mostly, I just didn’t want the first time I touched this pretty cold water to be when I was starting the swim. That was definitely a good call.

Swim

The start was a “time trial” start which meant that we roughly lined up by swim speed (“If you’re fast be near the front, if you’re less fast be in the middle, if your’re definitely not fast go to the back”). I was near the back. Every two to three seconds they would send off another person. As I mentioned earlier, this was my first open water swim of any significant distance so the only thing I was interested in doing was staying calm and controlled. I was not shooting for any time. I was shooting for a feeling — I wanted to feel like I could’ve kept going once I got to the end. Everything went more or less fine during the swim. I definitely don’t have my sighting technique dialed in. I only started practicing it maybe a week ago and right now when I do it I either don’t see enough to adjust my trajectory or I break my stroke flow a little bit too much. I had a couple moments of treading water/breast stroking to confirm my orientation, but didn’t really need to resort to any of my “emergency” strokes to get through the distance, which felt good. 

While I’m not sure how much farther I could’ve gone, I did exit the swim with my heart rate and breathing under control — even if I was extremely happy to be done swimming.

(See my Strava activity here).

T1

The first couple of steps coming out of the water were a little wobbly and I kind of forgot I needed to start stripping off my wetsuit until I was well into the transition area. Eventually I remembered that I wouldn’t be riding my bike in a wetsuit and I started clambering out of it as I jogged. I found my bike no problem and was glad I had lathered my arms and legs up with conditioner prior to putting on my wetsuit — it definitely made it much easier to take off. Wetsuit off. Helmet on. Sunglasses on. Put socks on wet feet. I can’t remember if I sat on the ground. I must’ve, because I can barely put my socks on when I’m standing in my living room, never mind after swimming kind of hard for 20 minutes. Bike shoes on. Bike off rack. Jog with bike for a kind of long time until I hit the Mount line at the top of a little gravelly hill and hit the pavement. 

Bike

It felt good to clip into my bike and start picking up speed. While I’m not particularly good at any discipline of triathlon, I think I’m most confident and comfortable on the bike. I don’t have a power meter on my bike, so I didn’t really have a great way to judge how much effort I was putting into it, but I knew I wanted to go pretty hard since it was such a short ride (only 12 miles). I was a little surprised how tired my legs felt initially, but that started to fade as I hit miles 6, 7, and 8. 

As I was getting close to the 12 mile marker, I made a critical error. Because I hadn’t driven the course ahead of time and I didn’t really recognize the area, what I thought was the spot where the Olympic distance people would turn to go off on their second lap as actually where I was supposed to turn to finish my first lap (Olympic-distance athletes did two laps of the 12 mile course and the Sprinters were supposed to do 1). I thought the Sprint finish would be just after this spot. The timing was really unfortunate because as I slowed down to read the signs, a couple of really fast people on expensive bikes whizzed by me and made the left-hand turn where the only part of the sign I could quickly read said, “Second lap.” So, I assumed that was where the Olympic-distance folks were turning to do their second lap so I just carried on my merry way. 

As I hit miles 13 and 14, though, I knew I had made a grave error. I had an initial moment of panic where I wasn’t sure if I should try to turn around and go back or just keep going and do another lap. I didn’t have my phone so didn’t trust my ability to actually find where I needed to go without GPS/map and I knew it would be unsafe as they had only blocked off one lane of the road from vehicle traffic. I was very worried, though, because I knew Emily was waiting for me and I had no way of contacting her to let her know I was going to be out on the cycle course for another 40ish minutes. I think I used that anxiety to fuel myself through that second lap. 

The second time around I didn’t miss my turn off and after a very eventful cycling leg I was ready to be done with my bike.

(See Strava activity here.)

T2

I saw Emily almost immediately upon dismounting my bike and she seemed utterly unperturbed yet still excited to see me. I decided to hold off on explaining what happened and just focus on finishing the race. 

The rest of this transition felt smooth and easy. I realized that T1 feels awkward and hard because taking off a wetsuit is inelegant, no matter who you are. But throwing a bike onto a rack, putting on running shoes, a running belt, and a running hat feels awesome.

Someone tried to offer me water just as I was coming out of T2 and I wish I had grabbed it. Instead, I shuffled my way up the hill and out into the woods for what I hoped would be a relatively quick and easy 5k.

Run

Unfortunately, my confidence about knowing the course was totally shot at this point. I also didn’t hydrate particularly well while I was on the bike because I had only brought one bottle with me (again, thinking I was only going to be out there for like 35 minutes instead of an hour and ten minutes). If I had known I was going to do a 24 mile bike ride I probably would’ve had a gel near the end, too. Anyway, these are the things I was telling myself as I realized my legs felt terrible early in the run. Well, actually, they kind of felt okay at first. It was around the first mile marker that I realized I was not going to finish this thing with total grace. 

The whole first half of the race I was wondering if I even knew where the Sprint turnaround was. Whether maybe they had taken down all the Sprint signage because surely all the Sprint athletes who didn’t do an extra 40 minute bike ride were finished by now. Luckily, my concerns appeared unfounded as I saw the blessed turnaround sign at the approximately 1.5 mile mark and was able to power walk through an aid station where I tasted the best Gatorade I had ever had in my life. 

The last mile and a half were pain (mostly calves and shins but this was also the moments where I realized that while I had Body Glided the shit out of my collar and upper shoulders to prevent wetsuit chafing, I had neglected to apply any to my nipples which I realized were rapidly starting to chafe), but I was able to keep moving at a decent clip, walk through one more aid station with about half a mile to go, and run through the finish line with something like a smile across my face.

(See Strava activity here.)

Final Thoughts

I’m not actually super upset that I messed up the cycling portion of this race. I wasn’t actually racing anybody except myself and I’ve always viewed this race and the one I’m doing in June as existing solely to get me ready for the half-Ironman I’m doing in September. So, in some ways, I’m proud of myself for doing the Olympic distance even though I was not mentally, hydrationally, or nutritionally prepared to do so.

Doing my first open water swim, not missing any key equipment, and not having any equipment failures are all other confidence-boosting experiences from this weekend. On the other hand, it was also a humility-inducing event. I realized that I still have a long way to go in my training to be able to approach an Olympic or half-IM distance triathlon with the same confidence that I brought to this one. I was so done with swimming after 750 meters. I was so done with cycling after 24 miles. I was so done with running after only 5k. That was fine for this race, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come since September of last year, but I have a lot further to go before I get to September of this year.

Ultimately, though, the main feeling I left with from this weekend was that I couldn’t wait to get back into my training next week. If I could come this far in only a handful of months, how much farther can I go if I keep pouring time and effort into this endeavor over the next few months? I can’t wait to find out.

An Org Designer in the Land of the DAOs

Thoughts on starting fresh in a new domain, keeping a beginner’s mind, and looking to make an impact

Photo by Eric Krull on Unsplash

The Ready exists to change how the world works — to realize a more adaptive, equitable, meaningful, and human way of working. This has meant partnering with some of the world’s largest and most well-known organizations as they strive to remove decades of organizational debt to become better versions of themselves. It has also meant partnering with many smaller and lesser-known organizations who want to develop organizational operating systems that help them retain their nimbleness even as they scale. Not content to swoop in with broad proclamations or sexy PowerPoint slides, we’ve been working side-by-side with courageous leaders and teams who want to actually try new ways of working and are willing to get uncomfortable doing so.

Six years later we’re striving to keep our noses and brains firmly planted to the edge of the future of work. It’s important that we don’t grow complacent in the face of the success we’ve had so far. We work with too many clients who are on the downslope of influence and success after losing sight of the future. What might be next for us? Where are our blind spots? Where are the interesting things happening in the future of work that we aren’t involved with, or even necessarily understand, yet?

It’s impossible to be a future of work thinker and organizational practitioner without hearing about “web3” and “DAOs” over the past few months. As a company, we decided that we needed to get smart about this movement — and fast. It would be a complete dereliction of duty to ourselves, our current clients, and our future clients if we didn’t work hard to understand what’s happening in the world of web3. So, that’s what we’re doing.

Specifically, a colleague and I have committed to spending the vast majority of our time learning about, joining, and contributing to DAOs. The only way to have an informed point of view of this space is to participate. Behind this participation are a handful of foundational questions that we as a company who cares deeply about making the world a better place need to have conviction about:

  • Are DAOs and web3 here to stay? Are we just dancing on the edge of an ephemeral bubble or is this the frontier of something important?

  • To what extent do DAOs offer a framework for more equitable, adaptive, and human ways of working?

  • Assuming every DAOs is not inherently positive in every circumstance, how can we encourage them to evolve in better ways? What role can a company with our values have in making sure the next system doesn’t simply recreate the worst parts of the current system?

  • What aspects of self-management and new ways of working are DAOs unnecessarily re-creating from scratch? What roadblocks can we help them steer around as experienced practitioners who have been wrestling with many of these same ideas for a long time?

  • What can we learn from what current DAOs are doing and trying that is actually useful to bring to our more traditional organization clients? What bidirectional learning between the “old world” and the “new world” can we facilitate?

  • How can we help DAOs get better at all the messy “human stuff” that cannot be abstracted away by technological innovations and always emerges when human beings come together to solve problems (whether there’s a blockchain involved or not)?

  • What do we need to understand about web3 and DAOs in order to help legacy organizations effectively bridge their current reality into one where DAOs and other blockchain-enabled approaches become a larger part of their internal and external ecosystems? What do we need to know to advocate for this when it makes sense and to caution against it when it doesn’t make sense?

I’m sure I’ll look at this list of questions six years from now and shake my head at the naïveté of some of them while simultaneously being impressed with how prescient some of them ended up being (it’s definitely something I’ve done before). Either way, the only way you become fortunate enough to look back at your previous work and cringe is by taking the first step to actually put it out there right now.

Perhaps even more important than articulating what we need to do to start figuring out this world is articulating a few things that we don’t need to do. We don’t need to swoop into an ecosystem that has existed for years and act like it’s brand new. We don’t need to bust in the front door and start offering a bunch of advice and platitudes about how things should or could be different than they are right now. We don’t need to come in and immediately impose our own view of the world, as enlightened as we like to think it is, into a context where others have been doing a lot of hard work for a long time.

Instead, we are trying to do a few things:

First is to simply learn as quickly and as deeply as possible. Web3 is notoriously difficult to grok for the non-technical and onboarding practically, and conceptually, requires serious effort. This has been my work over the past few weeks. Reading everything, watching everything, joining Twitter Spaces, watching videos, lurking in Discords, taking notes and thinking thinking thinking.

The trick, especially for someone like me who truly enjoys the solitude and individual experience of learning on my own, is to not get stuck in this posture. I will never feel like I learn or understand “enough.” There is always more to learn and if I wait for perfect understanding I will never move beyond the lurking and learning stage. Instead, I’m trying to remain in a learning posture while also engaging in small ways with the movement I’m learning about. It’s about making small connections between what I’m seeing in web3 and what I’ve learned and experienced as a progressive organizational practitioner over the past six years. It’s replying to Tweets, it’s writing my own threads trying to articulate things I’m noticing, and it’s about asking more questions than making declarative statements about how things are.

Next, and I hope to gradually transition to this phase soon, is identifying specific pain points and tensions in DAOs where I’ve cultivated relationships and offer my expertise in service of solving those challenges. In some cases I think the things we do with our current clients will translate extremely well to DAOs. In other cases, I think we will need to innovate new tools, practices, and processes that are truly custom designed for the unique DAO context. We will inevitably co-create these with other folks — probably many we haven’t met yet — who are bringing shared values and principles to this work, too.

After that the future gets increasingly murky. How does our work with DAOs and the people who do that work at The Ready interface with the rest of our organization? Should The Ready itself create a DAO that brings together progressive org designers and other practitioners? How can we do what we’ve done in the world of regular organizations with DAOs? Murky, murky, murky — but exciting.

For now, it’s back to listening, learning, provoking, and looking for opportunities of helpfulness. Let’s change how the world — and DAOs — work. Let’s make them the most adaptive, equitable, meaningful, and human they can possibly be and not unnecessarily carry over the assumptions, practices, and ways of working that have made traditional organizations so detrimental to so many people.

This article originally appeared on The Ready’s Mirror publication.

Sabbatical Retrospective: Weeks 11 and 12

Weeks 11 and 12 are officially in the books, so let’s take a few minutes to see how deliberate I was with my time and attention.

Week 11 Notes

  • The end of Week 10 was spent wrapping up another family wedding in Buffalo, NY which meant Week 11 started with a super early flight back to Virginia. I remember when I was doing this every week. Not a fan.

  • Emily and I had our first couples golf lesson. This is the first professional golf instruction she has ever received and it went really well. She’s a natural. My game is really coming along, too.

  • I had my first in-person training session with my coach. I met him at his home gym and we worked on my (utter lack of) swimming technique. It was the first professional swimming instruction I’ve had since I was a child. We took video of me from various angles and I now have a bunch of things to work on during my solo training sessions.

  • I made major progress on my book proposal. Focusing on getting shitty first drafts of each section written with the idea that I’ll come back and polish them later.

  • Emily and I went to the local jeweler we worked with for our engagement rings to design and order our wedding bands. Exciting!

Week 12 Notes

  • I watched the Apple Event. Kind of ho hum in terms of what I’m interested in.

  • I had a solo golf lesson. I’m still working on a tendency to turn my hands over too late, resulting in shots going consistently left. It feels like I’m so close to dialing this in to where it needs to be.

  • Emily and I had our fourth salsa lesson. We’re starting to string together some various moves into something that actually feels like legitimate dancing. I continue to be surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.

  • I completed a shitty first draft of entire book proposal (minus sample chapter).

What Has My Attention

I tried to jump into the deep end with a deep work experiment — 3 hours of deep work every day for the past two weeks. I very quickly realized it was unsustainable and that there’s a huge difference between understanding what deep work is and actually having developed the ability to do it well. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach when it comes to experiments like this. Lesson learned — if I care about developing my deep work muscle I’m much better served by doing something smaller and building from there rather than trying to do way too much way too quickly. This is apparently a lesson I will never stop needing to learn.

I’m still really enjoying all my triathlon training, particularly the cycling. It feels really good to see myself do difficult things regularly.

It feels really good to make progress on this book proposal. I’m holding it extremely lightly because I think there’s a lot of things I don’t have going in my favor in terms of selling a non-fiction book to a publisher, but even if this doesn’t turn into a traditionally published book it’s pushing me to develop my ideas unlike anything else I’ve done to this point. That work and thinking will show up somewhere, even if it’s not a book. If you want to help increase the odds of this thing being traditionally published, though, you could always follow me on Twitter and/or sign up for my newsletter!

Recap of Reading & Other Media

Personal Metrics Recap

As always, the format below is (Week 11 statistic/Week 12 statistic):

  • Average Hours Slept Per Night: 7.6/8.1

  • Average Quality Hours Slept Per Night: 5.7/5.7

  • Average Deep Hours Slept Per Night: 2.18/1.98

  • Average Sleeping Heart Rate: 51/48

  • Average Steps Per Day: 13,149/9,416

  • Average Weekly Weight: 207.3/207.2

  • Days Exercised (Out of 7): 7/7

  • Days Read (Out of 7): 6/7

  • Days Written (Out of 7): 4/4

  • Days Meditated (Out of 7): 2/1

In Week 12 I relaxed the expectation of waking up at 6:00 AM everyday and just let myself sleep until I naturally woke up (or Emily’s slightly later alarm woke me up). I’ve done experiments like this in the past and my takeaway has always been that even though I think sleep is really important and I feel better when I get more of it, I end up actually feeling worse by not getting those relatively early morning hours that waking up at 6:00 AM affords me. I’ve always self-identified as a “morning person” but something I realized this week is that I’m only a morning person in the sense that I like to be awake early — but I don’t actually like doing anything when I’m awake early (other than drinking coffee and reading). It’s not like I’m getting up early and really getting started on my day (although I do think I need to learn how to workout in the morning if I’m going to get more serious with triathlon).

I’m suddenly less inclined to keep getting up early when the reality of my life is such that I could probably be getting more sleep. Isn’t it stupid to be under slept in the name of sustaining some kind of arbitrary identity? Can I evolve out of this mindset of being a “morning person” and instead become a “sleep as much as possible person”? I’m not 100% sure but I think I’m going to keep it going for the next couple weeks and see how it goes. Also, now that I’m looking at the sleep data above, while I slept more in Week 12 my Quality Sleep and Deep Sleep were both better in Week 11. I’m going to have to keep an eye on that…

Looking Ahead to Weeks 13 & 14

We’re well and truly into the homestretch of this sabbatical now, with only four weeks remaining.

Emily and I decided against doing another trip to Cape Cod so the only remaining travel on the docket is a quick trip to Michigan to visit my family in Week 16. So, nothing the next two weeks. Looking forward to the calmness and stability associated with staying in one place.

Triathlon training continues. I’m working out 6 days a week and will continue doing so for the foreseeable future. My coach is starting to sprinkle in some new workout types (Fartleks!) so it’s still feeling fresh and fun. 

My main productive output will be refining the book proposal and writing the sample chapter that needs to be included in it. If I can have a more polished draft of the book proposal and a shitty first draft of the chapter finished by the end of Week 14, that would feel like a big win.

This week’s experiment is going to be to repeat my 3-hour per day deep work experiment but drastically scale it back to simply 30 minutes of deep work per day. Those 30 minutes are going to be super high quality and I’m going to take a few minutes after each session to just jot down some thoughts about how it went. 3 hours was way too audacious and 30 minutes feels too short, which means it’s probably just right.