Maybe it’s that it’s July and there’s something about mid-year checks that make me circle back to reflecting on what I really want to do in life. To the people who have known me for a while now, they’re aware that I might as well have the Penvensies’ wardrobe to house all the “hats” I’ve collected in my 20+ years of existence to appease my waxes and wanes in curiosity.
If every pursuit I’ve dove into thus far into were a droplet, under the perfect storm, I can see myself standing neck-deep in flood water.
When I shifted in thinking from what interests me to what problems I want to solve after a chat with a mentor, I found that my list was reduced to a small fraction of the original number. It was neither because I’m conflict-averse per se, nor that I only have a few, although I think most would wish for the latter. These interests act like bookmarks in my grand timeline and were solutions to the most pressing need at that moment, be it to avoid boredom, get an A+ on a project, or relate with a wider range of people. It’s an ever-growing list with seemingly unlimited amendments.
In an exam, it’s like one of those matching type of tests where you draw a line connecting several items on the left column to one on the right, creating this many-to-one correspondence. The ending? A hat for almost every occasion.
If I needed a proverbial beret, I could whip one out and use the same one with work colleagues, friends, or strangers needing a helping hand. Other times, I could use a duckbill cap or beanie. The con of this interest-first approach is that rather than actual problem-solving, it becomes more of a matter of stock-taking, where you hold a clearance sale to desperately get rid of items on the shelf that have been on there for too long. “I learned all these things so I might as well use it somewhere so it’s not a total waste,” I can hear my old self say, falling prey to the sunken cost fallacy. This isn’t a far cry from the build-it-and-they-will-come mindset, and many would know this leaves a lot of things to higher levels of assumption and chance. It really should be the other way around — to ground one’s self in the challenge at hand and branch out from there.
Knowing is half the battle but I’d like to stress that it should be in the first half. Otherwise, you could don a sun visor crafted by the best artisan but forget that there’s a blizzard outside. If it’s a matter of personal style, on the other hand, then you do you.
I’m not suggesting a mental Konmari for this specific situation and only keep the hats that spark joy because the variety in itself is what contributes to my personal definition of happiness, but wear the clothes. The clothes shouldn’t wear you. While it’s news to hear about a hat with a human attached to it than the reverse, shiny things lose their luster when the novelty wears out. If you begin dead set on a solution before even knowing the context of the situation, confirmation bias could take over and suddenly everything looks like a viable hat. Did you even need a hat in the first place or would a sock do a better job this time?
The next time I revisit my ikigai framework, I wouldn’t start with just any of the circles, as its 2-dimensional nature would suggest with no hint of hierarchy. The laser-eye focus the problem-first method gives me is the same kind of relief I get when I dodge a bullet of a long meeting, and the right call was made to send an email in its place. Knowing what I know now, the “what the world needs” circle is what I’d tackle for starters and then see if the sorting hat can work its magic.
