I’ve been perplexed lately by my relationships with reading and writing, unsure what to make of them. In many ways, they remind me of situationships.

Growing up, I wasn’t good at any of it; I just did it — first, out of academic responsibility and second, curiosity and relatability. Today, being better than average doesn’t mean much; it’s why I don’t use labels like ‘reader’ or ‘writer’ because I participate only at my leisure (without discipline or structure).

Situationships are nice and annoying for their moments of realness — sincerity, levity, intimacy. There’s no commitment, obviously; I’m not supposed to ask for much, especially when I’m not asked of much. And it’s all well and good, except I seem to have caught feelings. I’m okay with having a companionship with reading, but have developed a bit of a crush on writing. It’s nurturing, seductive, and extremely frustrating in the way a crush drives even the best of us crazy.

The thing about a crush is that it’s an inflection point — I can either get over it, or commit to it. And I’m not sure I can get over it without first giving into it, so what does it mean to commit...even if it’s just a bit? And can I really?? (Committing to people is easier to me than committing to an activity.) The hard part is knowing I’ll give it more than I’ll receive. That’s just how life kinda is for me...like all things relating to love, it’s only in giving it a shot that I’ll find out if we’re meant to be.

Love always, love anyway.

my body is calm, my heart is kind
align my actions with kindness in mind

In early 2023, someone knowingly took my sarcasm and turned it into something that challenged my reputation. Suffice it to say, this stirred up resentment. It was while I was freelancing and interviewing — when I felt like reputation was everything.

I was pretty hard on myself, taking accountability for not preventing this from happening. When I beat myself up, I just don’t want to speak, and of course know that I have to keep going.

Enough anger in me translates into sabotage-like feelings, making a clean record a fitting remedy. But a good record isn’t built overnight, so I had to figure out how to work with clingy anger in the meantime.

Before every interview/client meeting was a calendar reminder with the mantra above. The first line comes from a book called Getting Along; the second is my re-write because what was originally there (below) wouldn’t work for me.

It took a few weeks to be anger-free. Plus another few to build a record that was consistent and clean. Then and only then did I feel comfortable enough getting back to what I normally say when in need:

My parents never asked for perfection, but excellence; errors account for the difference. Errors are assumed in the excellence journey because they create room for learning.

The word mistake is different — harder to explain, but it’s first and foremost judgement-based and essentially reflects not having learned effectively for lacking best effort. (Some will view this critically, but for me, best effort is measured primarily through feeling.) It’s what helps keep me from repeating a judgement-based mistake.

So when I did [repeat a mistake] and told friends, “something’s off with me,” I heard the expected things: “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” “Everyone makes mistakes.” “Perfection is not everything.” “Give yourself grace.” I know these were said so lovingly, but I still needed someone who would take me seriously.

Enter a dear friend, whom we’ll call Kim. I met her a decade ago as an Insights lead and our friendship grew more through emails than texts and in-person meets. She knows me personally and professionally, and in reflection, mostly through my writing.

This is a chart mapping her help (in word count) in the days following my mistake.

Let’s start with a color key:

• Red font written vertically indicates a key moment (Days 0 and 8).

• A grey box reflects a phone call, where I note minutes in lieu of word count.

• Each blue box (regardless of shade) is an individual email I sent (e.g., I sent 3 emails / 498 words on Day 2).

• Pink/purple reflects a text exchange — pink are hers, purple are mine.

• The yellow box shows when my niece was visiting, hence less activity.

On sharing

I have mixed feelings about sharing this chart. I’m not ashamed of this midlife crisis in any light; all I care about is that I’m back to me — healthy. But I try to eliminate ways for others to compare. It’s why most company names and people on SOAR are unidentified, and why I limit what I suggest you to say or do (because we’re all different — what works for me might not work for you).

This chart was something I made out of curiosity, and at most, maybe it’s interesting. Maybe you’ll feel more normal (or just think I’m crazy). Maybe you’ll think “Kim, what a friend!” (Agreed.) At the end of the day, it shouldn’t mean much because it’s just information organized quantitatively.

I don’t usually share numbers, but they can be grounding, and I welcomed that after 8 days that felt blurry and messy. Hence this exercise — to see things cleanly. I went into it knowing only (1) how I felt, and (2) that the time it took to uncover my insight was thankfully less than I anticipated. I came out of it knowing more, and feeling more positively.

As for qualitatively…

• LAST YEAR is when I started feeling funny; emotions varied by time/place/company, so we’ll just call it heavy. I don’t shy away from heavy things, but don’t usually feel an emotional weight as if I’m carrying something. There were a few new variables in my life and I just figured the feeling would pass as I navigated them. One by one, things were going in good directions or reaching reasonable conclusions, but this feeling didn’t change. It was at this point that I realized I was having a midlife crisis for how it was affecting my life holistically and asking me to re-evaluate so many things retrospectively (not presently; as a quick aside, I think this is important!).
  Before this, I hadn’t applied the word crisis to my life; even in tough times, I felt capable of managing. But I believe in the power of naming (it helps me find clarity and freedom), so I said to myself, “A CRISIS, it is.”
  Despite owning the word and feeling, not enough was changing. There was a pretty big change in me, though — burnout from this feeling. I. was. languishing.
  I have incredible friends who support me, but navigate my day-to-day pretty independently. The independence I’ve built is a privilege and earning it has taken grit, though I don’t usually feel it — I just do it. But while languishing, grit would show up for me only sporadically, leaving times when I felt weak and sensitive to even the littlest things.

• SPRING 2026: I think very experimentally — hypotheses, controls, variables. Also, the process is something I had trusted wholeheartedly. With these heavy + languishing feelings approaching spring, I wanted to remove work as a variable and spent 11 days in London to let the process do its thing.
  Meanwhile, before leaving, I had a good conversation about something that had long-been humming in my mind, and it ended better than I could’ve hoped for; I was leaving on closure, or so I believed…In false-closure and confidence, I said in this conversation that I really didn’t think I would do something that I’d done before again. I’m pretty sure I said “I’m sure” — words I use carefully.
  London was amazing, full stop. It treated my languishing feeling (whew!) and I came back driven and ready, but still felt held back by heaviness that was lingering.
  From the beginning, friends had shared a similar thought for what the problem was — let’s call this Their Probable Answer. As much as it was a real possibility, it just never really felt right to me, so I kept experimenting until Day 0…when I made a mistake and did the thing I was sure I’d stop doing. (I knew that my behavior would bring someone negative energy and the weird part is how I also did this unintentionally. I know this doesn’t make much sense; it’s how I knew the problem was me.)

• Day 0 / Day of Mistake: I had thought about texting Kim this day, but didn’t want to be a bother. (For the 7 days following my mistake, I had wished I did. Today, I feel differently; I accept that this whole mess happened so I could figure out what was off with me.)

• Day 1: I texted Kim, stating “rock bottom.” As we spoke on the phone, she agreed that what I did was so unlike me. I FELT SO SEEN. And then we made a plan — that I could send thoughts her way, no matter what and no matter when.

• Days 2-5: I showed up for my niece. It was her first big weekend in the city and I like being her NYC Auntie. I was also self-loathing and confused; my thoughts parked like a car with its engine running.

• Days 2-7: My emails blended observations, emotions, and a couple of decisions. I can’t remember offhand what I said when, and it doesn’t really matter; I just knew we needed enough information. Given her Insights expertise, it was comforting knowing that I wouldn’t have to organize my thoughts carefully.

• Day 8: We figured out me. The insight hit me unexpectedly while talking, but we both knew it as soon as I said it. I felt lighter and free so immediately.

What was missing

Remember dearest mom and good learning opportunities? For months, part of what had been driving me nuts was that I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to be learning. For the first time in my life, I was losing trust in the process (and essentially questioning my spirituality for this reason, among others).

It took me 2 days after my breakthrough to remember something from the Day 1 call with Kim — that while crying and asking what was wrong with me, I conceded so sincerely to Their Probable Answer. In hindsight, Their Probable Answer was a trigger and present factor, but not the driver. (I think of it as a front-seat passenger.)

I take this kind of attribution super seriously, and Their Probable Answer could only explain part of the heavy feeling (versus all of it). The weeks prior had shown me that partial wasn’t good enough because I was still unsure of what I was supposed to learn and couldn’t trust in the process or myself, which was the real issue here. The mistake I made was the catalyst to completely re-evaluate, thankfully with Kim’s help.

This is going to be an oversimplification but for SOAR, I don’t think it will make much difference: My error was filtering/isolating observations by origin (think family, friends, health, work) out of good intention / to avoid misattribution. It resulted in multiple inferences that led to some strong causal-crossover findings, but it wasn’t enough, and I knew it. I should’ve clustered observations via key questions sooner; it might’ve led me to the single insight that ultimately accounted for what I was carrying professionally, personally, and spiritually.

Insights are elite

If there are two things I wish more people understood, it’s

1. that insight feeling — one so special for how it targets possibility and pain (tension is the word commonly used in professional settings). Not every insight is as big as crisis-solving, but each one really is its own special thing that makes me feel the awe of love and life every time.

2. the differences between insights, observations, and decisions. An observation explains what happened. An insight explains why a string and/or set(!) of observations happened (think patterns, habits, trends). A decision is a course of action based ideally on insights(!) that are informed by observations.

Insights are elite not only for their ability to explain things comprehensively, but also for how they can neutralize(!) triggers so effectively (what an effin’ relief). Identifying a trigger alone likely requires coping whereas identifying an insight does not necessarily. That’s what this insight did for me; it’s why I felt so free. It’s also why I'm critical when people misuse the word insight — it gives observation far too much credit and likely solves nothing!

Parting thoughts

• I wonder if I sound crazy to you. The way I talk about the process almost as a religion. The way I sent 4 emails in a day to Kim. The way you probably hate that I don’t say here what the insight is…there’s a time and a place, and this to me is best in conversation.

• Like a summer storm, I think insights are sexy and they usually hit me like lightning — suddenly and without seeking. This crisis is the first time I can remember hearing thunder without feeling lightning striking. Kim was the kite and key.

• My mistake was sending 2 texts. The first was sent in the spirit of honesty and friendship, but executed passive-aggressively (which is not how I typically do things). The second was a weird articulation of self-awareness and embarrassment. This may not sound like much to most people, but it showed me that my heavy feeling wasn’t just bending me, it was breaking how I was processing information and making decisions (i.e., affecting my judgement!!). Emotions are one thing; judgement, especially behavioral, is another.

• This midlife crisis doesn’t come with anything visibly new — same city, same apt, same job, same dreams. What’s new is my frame of mind, one that I interestingly had already adopted in many parts of my life, but three life variables last year challenged my ability to fully embrace it. This dissonance exacerbated the crisis.

• I think there’s a difference between and sequence to burnout and breakthrough. (And…I don’t believe burnout or breakthrough have to happen at all.) How I define them still needs refining but for the sake of sharing here and now…burnout is the output of inputs and observations, whereas breakthrough is the outcome of insights and decisions. (As a quick reminder, I think a process consists of 4 things: inputs, outputs, sequence, and outcomes.)
  In my case, London treated my burnout and languishing feeling, but treatments are not cures; I think it would’ve come back eventually sans breakthrough. In a friend’s case (where she recently gave two-weeks notice), she felt sad and heavy at work, and creative and content outside of it; removing her source of burnout is fueling a sense of levity and allowing her to explore creatively. But she is unsure of which direction she’s headed next; removing burnout alone doesn’t reveal it — ideally a breakthrough based on insight and decision will (as she looks inward and tries new things!).

• Few people have seen me behave desperately because I approach it like an allergy — cautiously. But in desperately telling friends that something was off with me, I was reminded of how desperation can challenge belief. I don’t know what to make of it right now…it’s just something that has stayed with me and I think is worth exploring. Some POV will eventually hit me, but if you have any in the meantime, I welcome them.

• To any friend feeling [something] because you didn’t know that this was ongoing, I wasn’t ever hiding. I’m also mindful of the vibes I am capable of spreading. In London, a friend described her situation as “hugging a bomb” and it resonated deeply. I was trying to control shrapnel, but didn’t get through this without injuring anyone. By sending those texts, I broke integrity and trust in a friendship and feel remorse for what I did.

• This crisis shapes how I move forward, improving my ability to see and simply be. So much of it will stay with me (without carrying the weight of it) — its wreckage, an insight that took a mistake to rethink, three decisions, that healing feeling, gratitude and remorse for friendships long and possibly lost, and closure from finally, finally figuring out what I was supposed to be learning.

[Anything / Everything] is a good learning opportunity.

What started as “responsible” turned textbook-irrational
when this mistake I made broke integrity.
I projected on someone after saying I wouldn’t
(lost judgement from burnout I’d been carrying).

“Rock bottom” is not how you’d describe me;
I get it and agree.
But all it means is the lowest point,
and this was all I needed to see.

Before this year, I generally liked me;
I’m well on the return journey —
remorse, inquiry, INSIGHT, shame,
acceptance, decision, invisible change.

Self-forgiveness (the worst) is there, somewhere;
it’ll show up in good time.
’til then, I’m living quietly (not hiding)
easing into feeling better than fine.

Part of what’s messed up is knowing I’m still enough.
But enough for what? (Not some things of dear meaning.)
So as I earn my way back, there’s one cute catch —
I know how unrewarding self-love can seem.

Liking myself enough, being responsible enough,
able enough, joyful enough, intimate enough,
messy enough, enough enough…what/where has that gotten me?
Plenty ofc, and but and yet, the question still came roaring.

I don’t say with despair that life is unfair;
it’s just how I’ve seen it to be.
Beyond my wildest dreams hid a harsh reality,
and truthfully, I wasn’t ready.

It wasn’t this alone, but a perfect storm
that led to a regrettable thing.
I’m no longer angry; the storm served a purpose;
it got me to rethink everything.

Broken, confused — I was still enough for some of you.
I won’t forget the ways you made room.
Room to read my fears. Room to talk thru tears.
Room to embrace my sensitivity.

My intensity. Your frequency. Breakthrough came quickly.
It’s nice to let go of what I was carrying.
The reason is selfish; I need something to show
for you loving me so inconveniently.

Self-worth is earned.

In marketing, we call this a human truth — a fundamental and timeless observation that underlies the human experience. And the truth is, regardless of how self-worth is earned, there comes a point when it’s put in question and you get to decide whether and how to maintain it, or (if needed) regain it. It’s in these moments that you ask yourself who you are and who you want to be, whether you realize it or not.

When I first shared this human truth, I didn’t get into how it’s earned because the path towards it varies, but the journey of asking yourself who you are and who you want to be is more uniform. It starts with the self, ideally beginning with lucid self-awareness, ruthless self-accountability, and alignment with your self-competency. And as much as I wish your worth could start and end with you, it’s inevitably shaped by others, and rewarded two ways: attention and/or appreciation. Attention in this context means being noticed (positively or negatively) whereas appreciation translates to being valued (by yourself as well as others).

You can care but you can’t chase.

This, in my opinion, is how self-worth is maintained. It’s the line that separates desperation and dignity, requiring (a) discipline to align who you are and who you want to be, and (b) skill (+ luck) to be recognized and appreciated for it (including by yourself).

The discipline to care-but-not-chase is easier said than done, but this is when the distinction between attention and appreciation becomes important. Chasing self-worth out of desperation is a chase for attention — fleeting, transactional, nominal — because appreciation can only be earned, and it takes EQ to accurately discern.

Answering who I am and who I want to be

I’m going to selfishly take this opportunity to first start with who I am not wired to be: Type A — I’d be stupid rich if I had a dollar for every time someone has told me I am. What they don’t understand is that attentiveness is customary in East Asian cultures, so I’m organized for others’ sake, not mine. Personally, I find to-do lists a waste of time and the supposed satisfaction of finishing one self-aggrandizing.
(who I actually am and will likely always be: a combination of Types B and C)

I’m not achievement driven (I’m appreciation-driven). I sincerely have no interest in being the best, but have every interest in working with and learning from them to do my best. They are my greatest source of curiosity, care, and creativity, but there are no pedestals here; we’re all human — flawed, becoming, beautiful.

Lastly, I despise being put in a box; we’re all so many things (if not today, tomorrow). But for the sake of this post, I’ll tell you what I say most in relation to this question:

1. I’m reasonably sassy for someone who’s unreasonably sweet. Which sides you see depends on person/place/time, but this balance keeps me from coming off as too sappy, which I’m already enough of to some:

   

   Side note: If you’ve never met Sassy Cat, it’s usually because I either wholeheartedly agree, or you’re not worth my energy to explain why I disagree.

2. I’m a good egg just trying to find my dozen.

   (who I also am: good at one-liners)

Finding my dozen

I’m lucky to say that I’ve found a few dozen. I can’t take credit for what makes them so good, but think the tone I set lets me recognize them faster than others often can. Explaining how I do this starts with a soulless question:

On a scale of 1-5 (5 being great), what do you assume someone is when you first meet them?

Go ahead, take a moment to answer. If you’re hesitant to, you’re not alone. Rarely does someone simply give me a number. They first…

• ask reasonable questions — how do I know them? what are we measuring them on (e.g., competence)? I tell them that none of these questions are relevant.

• suggest I’m oversimplifying this and imply that I’m wrong to whittle someone down to a number. I completely get where they’re coming from.

Eventually, though, we get to a number. Most people choose 3 out of fairness and pragmatism; they’re applying the rules of probability while remaining open-minded. Some people choose 1; they make each egg prove its worth (often times, because they themselves had/still have to). Very few folks say 4 and the reasons here are split; some are truly optimistic about an egg while others want to virtue-signal. No one, to date, has ever said 2 (and if anyone does hereon out, I’m going to assume it’s because they read this). And only 1 person has ever said 5; I know this person well enough to know it’s sincere, but when I asked why, the person couldn’t tell me.

Before I share my answer, there’s one I’ve heard more often than I’d like because it says more about them than any other: “Eggs will start at 3, but won’t know it because I treat them like a 5.” YIKES. If this is you, it’s time to check your hubris. Chances are you’ve been on the other side and knew exactly what was happening, which means the only person you’re kidding is yourself. Even Sassy Cat doesn’t think it’s worth the energy to explain the arrogance in your answer, so instead, I often just skip to the logic in mine…

My answer is 5, full stop. Friends who’ve met Sassy Cat are often surprised to hear this, and I don’t blame them; there was a time when I would’ve said 3, but my logic was incongruent with my intent. If I truly want to be a good egg trying to find my dozen and concede to the laws of probability, then I needed more than good intent; I needed a strategy.

At the heart of every good strategy lies competitive advantage, and starting people at a 5 would give me mine. How exactly? Because when I treat people like a 5, I find out sooner if they’re a mother-fuckin’ 6!

Let’s use 3 to illustrate why any number less than 5 is a less effective answer (assuming you’re looking for good eggs): When people tell me that they start eggs at a 3 and I ask them what makes a 4, the reality is that most people can’t articulate it; it’s one of those “I’ll know it when I see it” situations. So now, you’re both just trying to work towards a 4, and if you’re open-minded enough and the egg is good enough, you might try and work towards a 5.

But if you start eggs at a 5, they’ll show you who they are free of your judgement. Also, you’ll know pretty soon if they’re not a 5. Sliding down that scale is easier than it is to slide up, and I find that people are often more reasonable about it, too. For example, if a supposed-good egg is 10 mins late, you’re more likely to give it the benefit of the doubt and attribute it to understandable circumstances (e.g., the subway was caught behind another train) instead of unfortunate disposition (e.g., the egg is not good / irresponsible).

At the end of the day, there is always a starting point. Where you set yours says a lot about who you are and who you want to be.

Reality and Rationale

This decision doesn’t come without consequence. The reality is that few people show up as 5s and even fewer as 6s (because life sure is something, amirite?!). But I do my damned best to be fair, and this is currently the fairest way I know to keep my own shit from getting in the way.
(who I am and who I want to be: someone who repeatedly gives people the opportunity to show up)

Having enough self-awareness to not project onto others has afforded me an ability to learn about people more sincerely and see them more clearly, which has sharpened my foresight.
(who I am and hope to always be: highly perceptive)

Spend enough time with me and you’ll see this perception in action, and learn how rarely I’m wrong about people (which is not the same as being right!). When I am wrong, it’s usually not because I’ve misjudged potential (capability and/or capacity are definitely present); what I’ve misjudged is what constrains it (e.g., limiting beliefs, self-preservation, trauma, pressure, fear). No one is immune to the trials and tribulations of life, so the question becomes, to what extent do these factors inhibit intention and potential?
(who I am and who I want to be: someone who checks my ego wrt what I know)
(who I am and wish I were less of: someone who is regularly disappointed in people…which is messed up, but I just really want people to reach the potential I see)

Disappointment is a harsh emotion that even the soundest rationale can’t curb, but that hasn’t stopped people from trying. A dear friend once attempted to by playfully saying, “you’re just so hard to please.” I get what he meant, but in true Sassy Cat form, I clarified what I really am — “easy to please, hard to impress” — which led to a look of both annoyance and agreement (signs of well-executed sass).
(who I want to be: great(!) at one-liners)

I share this because I think there’s a difference between what’s ‘easy to please’ and ‘hard to impress’ — it’s in that sense of self (i.e., ego) and whether action(s) elevate or erode it.

• Nearly everything in the ‘easy to please’ bucket (e.g., being on time, replying to a text/email, checking in on a friend, showing support and encouragement) tends to make you feel good and elevates your ego in ways that feel like a pat on the back. In short, good job!

• The same can’t be said about the things that will impress me. These actions demonstrate vulnerability in ways that are thankless and hard, not every time, but enough times. Somewhere in the journey of being impressive and staying impressive is the humility you endure in spite of your actions and ambitions.

To me, what’s more impressive than being a 6 (a function of how others see you) is your true ability to start others at a 5 (a function of how you see them). This isn’t something everyone can do because it can’t be faked; it’s a genuine expression of who you are and who you want to be (and whether you’re reached a certain stage in your journey). And if you’re like me, each and every good egg is worth the sting of so much disappointment and rejection along the way. Because 苦盡甘來 (translation: bitterness finishes, sweetness begins), remember?
(who I am and who I want to be: someone who makes decisions based on net-positive outcomes)

My ask of you

Yesterday, I shared that Tone, Place, and Pace is for multi-round players. And what I’m asking you to consider today — to start people at a 5 — is entirely reasonable, especially if you’re only asked to do it once. The question is whether you’re willing to do it every time.

I aim to, every time, which is not to say that I show up this way every day (because I don’t!). When I’m down, I stay down. I look inwards. I do the work. And assuming I already know who I am and who I want to be, then it just means I rest until I can reimagine how things could've played out, realign with who I am and want to be (through quality time with friends who appreciate me), and recommit to the decisions that enable me to start eggs at a 5. Then, repeat.
(who I am and who I want to be: eventually resilient following disappointment)

One more human truth

6s are special; not everyone is going to be one. It takes a special permutation to be seen as and to behave as a 6. But so many of us are 5s deep down; I’m certain of this. Whether we have the courage to show up as best ourselves — as 5s — is a decision that only we can make, and I’m so hoping we (i.e., you and I independently) will.

I can’t possibly chase you all to show up as and start others at a 5, but dearly care whether you do because of what I’ve said before: like begets like — passion begets passion, kindness begets kindness, and good eggs beget good eggs — all because of one more human truth: we are the company we keep.

Thank you for being in SOAR’s good company.
(who I am and will always be: net-hopeful, forever grateful)

That’s a wrap for this series! It’s hard to explain just how much writing this took out of me. Please share thoughts and critiques — I have plenty of my own 🙃 Just reply to this email or comment below.

© 2026 Catherine Chao. All rights reserved.

I’ve debated sharing my POV about AI on here. Some days, I think it’s worth getting into; other days, not. Today, I’ll share what I periodically use it for — entertainment and assessing its strategic competency. Fortunately for now, AI is more observational than insightful, but it’s getting better. (Unfortunately, the number of folks who understand what separates an insight from an observation will only worsen as we rely on AI for cognitive convenience.) I recently asked Claude if there are themes to SOAR’s writing style, and while most failed to impress, there’s one that entertained:

A framework-builder who distrusts frameworks. She’ll construct clean conceptual structures — like distinguishing reflection, synthesis, distillation, and intention as distinct steps — but always in service of encouraging presence and meaning, not productivity hacks.

my identity x strategy

Spend enough time with me and you’ll see how bashful I can get about my ability to create frameworks, not because they’re bad, but because I’m honestly not trying to do it. The way art flows out of an artist and a verse flows out of a poet, frameworks have a tendency to flow out of me. Among friends, this is one of my more endearing qualities, but I used to get a little self-conscious about it around people who don’t know me because it’s just one more puzzle piece some use to make inaccurate assumptions about me.

Frameworks are common outputs for the type of work I do — strategy. But strategy is a word/function/skill that many have come to interpret as formulaic and lacking humanity because many people do it poorly and in environments that lack spirit. It’s been bastardized to such a degree that I struggle at times to proudly associate myself with it, despite having a clear affinity for it.

I’ve come to own the fact that I’m rather good at strategy (it’s been quite the personal journey), but am only beginning to find comfort in expressing it; it’s easier to dissociate myself from people who are trying to be perceived(!) as good than cite those who are producing good. It’s why I have a cautious eye towards someone who owns/claims this word strategy, and am a harsh critic (of them and myself).

the thing about frameworks

It gives me both grief and relief to tell you that I think most aren’t very good. I don’t say this too loudly or broadly because I know people find utility in ones I deem crappy, so I’m careful to criticize (especially as one who creates them). But, just this once, I hope you’ll indulge me on why I commonly have issues with so many, so often:

• They overcomplicate something or are so high-level that there’s too much room for failure. The purpose of a framework is not to re-organize information so that it looks or sounds nice; it’s to set you up for success (by way of ease) and help you home in on what truly matters. Many frameworks don’t have the depth (or teeth, as I tend to say) to cut through and create ease, so watching people use them is like watching someone hammer in a screw.

• They’re just templates or processes. ugh, my pet peeve…in short, a framework guides how you think whereas a template or process standardizes what you do. (Case in point, that reflection-synthesis-distillation-intention structure that Claude referenced is a process, not a framework.)

• They’re not versatile enough. A framework shouldn’t overpromise and underdeliver over time; if it does at scale, design flaw is to blame, not user error. Like any good template/process, a framework is a tool that should be there for you in a multitude of situations. Too many are engineered for just one, which makes it a circumstantial solution, not a framework.

critiquing a classic

One of the frameworks that illustrates the first and third points above is Stephen Covey’s Circles of Control, which can be found in his book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Generally speaking, I celebrate his thinking but don’t recommend his frameworks; I’m mentioning it because a few SOAR readers know and like it, so maybe you will, too (more than the one I’m going to share with you).

There are a few interpretations of this framework based on whether you see there being two or three circles of concern and control. Here’s my interpretation in brief: Covey suggests that proactive people (his term, not mine) focus their energy on things they can control + influence instead of what they can’t (i.e., circle of concern). The circle of concern consists of things you care about but can’t control, whereas the circle of influence covers things you can affect (directly and indirectly, based on levels of control).

In all sincerity, is this not obvious? To me, this is a baby framework at best, as in a baby step to help people very early on in their journey have greater awareness and accountability of their place in whatever ecosystem they’re trying to exist in. But what if you are putting the wrong things in the wrong buckets? With that in mind, here’s mine…

meet Tone, Place, and Pace

You know how people tell you to focus on what you can control? In theory, that sounds great, but I think it’s only strong advice when you:

• know enough about what it is that you should control (which ofc is subjective)

• know what it is that you should not! (a piece that is often overlooked)

This is where I feel Covey’s framework falls short — it has structure but lacks real, guiding substance. Tone, Place, and Pace inverts and builds on it.

• TONE is where I have full control: I believe I always have the power to set the tone; it’s completely within my ability. Whether or not people meet that tone is not up to me, but the choice with respect to how I set it is always mine. Though being a first mover has its advantages, it’s not required; you can always reset(!) it through your response.

• PLACE is where I have partial control, and there are two sides to this.

  • Where I choose to set the tone is a choice I make (full control): Whether or not I like all of my choices is not up to me (see Important Note below), but my decision to set the tone ‘here’ vs elsewhere is mine (which is why it’s important to know what you’re getting into)!
    (Important Note: This is when I wish people would reframe a sense of entitlement as empowerment.)

  • Where people place me organizationally/narratively/etc. is a different story (partial control). Ideally, people meet me at or above where I believe I am; when there's a disconnect, that's when tone and pace do the work.

• PACE is the outcome I choose to not control: Once I set the tone and choose my place, I find it best to trust the pace. Organic flow is more effective than inorganic force, making pace an outcome to optimize rather than an input or output to control.

A few things to note with this framework:

• Two reminders with respect to pace: (1) reason is required, and (2) all good things take time. Strategic patience, as we say.

• If you’ve been reasonable and things aren’t happening at the pace that you’d like, don’t force it. Instead, influence it by revisiting your tone and place. Re: tone, maybe there’s a disconnect between your intention vs execution (consider this a friendly reminder that consistent interpretation is more important than consistent articulation). Re: place, figure out what must-haves and nice-to-haves you need to stay where you are. I say this because many people are quick to jump ship without this clarity, only to find themselves in a similar place elsewhere.

• At the center of every good framework is a POV, and embedded within this one is the belief that life is long(!); in game theory terms, it’s a multi-round game. Tone, Place, and Pace optimizes your position in and over time, but if you believe life is short and/or see decisions as single-shot plays, then this framework is not for you — you’re better off maximizing your outcome immediately and independently of tradeoffs.

origins and use cases

I was once up for promotion two years in a row and denied both times. When asked if I’d leave the organization, the only response that came to mind was “tone, place, and pace,” and just like that, this framework was formed. I didn’t see it as a framework at the time; it was just an answer to a question. But there’s a ring to some things, and the more situations I found myself in, the more I came back to these three words (to stay at a company, let go of a 15-year friendship, recover from a running injury, give my hibiscus plant one more chance, among other things).

With respect to that promotion situation, I chose to stay for the time being. The company I worked at had a lot of institutional habits and biases, and the place the calibration team put me (i.e., not promotion-worthy) was one that I had long-seen coming; it was also something that I felt would improve with time, as my tone (through my work and how I showed up) was considered high-performing, per my performance evaluation. That, coupled with my overall experience, was net-positive in ways that then made the pace of my promotion a factor that I chose to accept by staying.

Are there ways in which I could have influenced the pace? Of course. I’m not going to go into them because I don’t recommend any of them, but I say this to acknowledge that there are ways in which you could fundamentally disagree with this framework. You could decide that pace is 100% within your control (for which I’d likely argue arrogance and/or delusion). This is why I struggle with Covey’s framework — because people could choose what’s in their circles of control based on what they want vs what is smart (which are not always in conflict, but I find that outside of tone and place, something likely will be).

Where conflict arises is often in whether the tone and place you choose aligns with the values/consequences that shape who you are and who you want to be. I see these choices as the most important inputs, ultimately impacting your overall sense of health and harmony.

So what’s the tone I set? I tell you in Day 3.

© 2026 Catherine Chao. All rights reserved.

SOAR turned 5 in March and I would not have known without seeing ‘2021’ in the title of this post. It’s convenient timing, though, because we’ll have a couple of firsts this week to mark the occasion: SOAR’s first framework and a double feature (with another post).

Writing SOAR has never been a breeze, but today’s and Wednesday’s were a real bitch. Depending on how we count, it took 4-7 tries to figure out the structure, another to wander into the fun, and a couple more to weave in the ease and flow. Between these takes were also a few tears, which was another first, because as much as this newsletter is the outcome of a flow state, turning on my SOAR-writing brain has always required brute force, spurred by something that people often tell me — that I think differently.

I hear it as your compliment while equally absorbing it as a question — do I actually think differently? Because in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t tell you anything that you don’t already know.

This photo captures so much of how I see SOAR — a playful game of sidewalk math, where theorems and proofs are constructed from relatable emotions and experiences. I use hearts, ice cream, and fairy tales instead of the Adam Grant approach of citing studies alongside facts and figures, but we’re building similar castles in the same sandbox (albeit his is much, much larger than mine!).

Nearly everything I publish is in the spirit of encouraging two things:

• thinking critically and kindly, both irrespective of and inclusive of yourself

• showing up as your best self, which includes creating space for others to

When I put it like that, I don’t think I think all that differently, especially since parents ask this of their kids every day (albeit in other ways). But I’ve lived long enough to also know that I am wired a little differently, and the tricky part is that I don’t usually feel it in a good way, but in a lonely way.

This dynamic between difference and loneliness is what’s behind the brute force needed to write SOAR, because I’m (a) not trying to be different, but (b) eager to feel less alone in navigating the workplace with more intention and humanity. I’ve put a lot of thought into what makes me feel each and the easiest way to explain this is oddly with more psychologists!

what makes me different

When people’s behaviors are shaped by their consequences, per B. F. Skinner’s theory, mine are too, but also seem more rooted in values. I first decide who I am and who I want to be and then let opportunities unveil themselves to me. It’s why I was just as surprised as friends were to learn that I landed at Nike, LinkedIn, and where I am today.

So often, who people are and how they behave are a function of who they’ve set out to be — a C-suite, marathon finisher, homeowner. There’s nothing wrong with this approach; it just hasn’t been mine. And the tension is that the very approach that makes me feel like myself is also the one that makes me feel alone.

known, but still alone

“Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.” —Carl Jung

Unsurprisingly, I feel differently. My loneliness stems from being able to effectively communicate the things that are important to me, seeing others say the same (yay!) but behave differently (nay…) for the reasons we just discussed — people perceive that what they believe won’t necessarily help them achieve. In this sense, I don’t believe that they think all that differently, but understandably want to feel more conveniently (because leaning into outcomes often feels smarter and better than leading with values).

This brings me back to my original question — do I actually think differently? Or, do I simply choose to feel differently? I argue more of the latter, that I have a higher willingness to feel like shit for my right reasons (e.g., a 2.5-year job hunt to work for a good human for 2.5 years and counting). This is what Angela Duckworth calls grit. But my tolerance stems more from having seen my parents live the Chinese expression 吃苦 (translation: eat bitterness), where there’s a cultural expectation to do so stoically (that they kindly did not place on me).

the cost of authenticity

Two questions come to mind when I lead with my values:

• is it worth it?

• can I afford it? (not only financially, but holistically)

I’m not rich, but am well-situated enough to optimize for health and harmony. (Consider this an unsponsored plug for Angela Duckworth’s new book Situated coming out in September.)

As for whether it’s worth it, I’m going to answer in the context of SOAR. I’m five years in and sadly don’t feel less alone (which is not to say that I haven’t grown). But some of you have told me that you have, that SOAR has helped you think more critically and kindly enough to see a better version of yourself. Your willingness to not only see it, but be it is what will eventually make this worth it. I don't know when it will happen (and know things are going to get worse before they get better), but believe it will because 吃苦 (eating bitterness) is often tied to another idiom: 苦盡甘來 (translation: bitterness finishes, sweetness begins).

As for what gets me through, that’s what Day 2 and Day 3 dive into.

1. Substack has a feature called Substack Chat and I’ll start using it for SOAR (link here). As someone who lives for the little things, this will be a place to store SOAR’s little things (e.g., the process, adjacent thoughts, and reads that I’m already sharing with some of you).

2. Before jumping into the topic du jour, I want to make one thing abundantly clear — I don’t write SOAR for clicks. I don’t rage-bait. And if I play cute here, it’s PG-rated / kawaii-cute. Any SOAR-related subject lines that seem like teasers aren’t meant to be, and my reference to a one-night stand isn’t to create a stir.

   There’s the word game that we’ve talked about - one you can play and a system you can game. I think it’s important to understand both so you can avoid engaging when possible, which is why SOAR is the last place you’ll see me doing so.

   When it comes to these metaphors, this is just how my brain works; it makes connections that are as boring as tomatoes/potatoes or as seemingly NSFW as one-night stands. In instances when I suspect that a metaphor will generate a certain kind of attention, I then sit on it for even longer and stress-test in the wild, turning up the dial to uncomfortable extremes for the purpose of finding as many flaws in my argument (and myself!) as possible. I tested today’s topic for over a year (a year and four months, to be precise), and this is still the metaphor that seems to work best.

3. I have nothing against one-night stands or anyone who partakes in them. They're just not my thing, the same way vodka isn't.

A little background

When people ask how long I’ve lived in NY, part of my response always includes, “this is New York 3.0 for me.” I’ve technically been back for 2+ years, but have been a New Yorker for nearly two decades. NY3.0 is different than 1.0 and 2.0, but they’re all very similar if I compare it to where I moved from — Portland, Oregon, where I lived my quietest and simplest life to date. So when I moved back to the city and there were random events I could go to, I generally did, including networking ones. After about a year, I found myself feeling like I had gone to enough events to credibly hold a POV, which is that a lot of networking events kind of feel like metaphorical work one-night stands.

About last night…

When it comes to networking events, I’m going to generalize and say that there are three types of people (that are not mutually exclusive):

• the Introverts, who hate it the whole time

• the Schmoozers, whose reason for being there couldn’t be more obvious; they’re there for social currency. (Note: schmoozers often come off as extroverts, but can be socially well-adjusted introverts.)

• and then there’s me, an ambivert, but for the sake of today’s topic, let’s just say I’m an extrovert who socializes like an introvert. I attend these events because I never know what life will bring, but rallying the energy for me to show up is like moving heaven and Earth. Once I’m there, though, there’s a little jumping bean inside of me (made of extroversion and sincere curiosity) that makes talking to people enjoyable, so much so that there are times when I’m the last to leave. Given my sluggish starts, the joke’s on me!

Anyway, the moment I’m home, the words “that wasn’t so bad…” always comes to mind, and I go to bed not thinking much more about it. So imagine my surprise when I wake up with the ick, like some less than desirable morning after.

Understanding ‘the ick’

We all know how networking events work: I might meet a new person, learn about a company/industry, and get invited to another event, all because I was in the room and able to converse with people who hardly know me. Sometimes, the knowledge I learn or invites received are things that no amount of good work I do could get me…and that’s the ick.

The ick is that I really love doing good work. I really value seeing good work. And I recognize that networking has very little to do with actual work. This world doesn’t reward anyone for good work alone. Said differently, there are times when I’m at a networking event with people whose work (and/or work ethics) are not what I call good, but it doesn’t seem to matter much if they’re good at networking, ya know?

This post today isn’t to criticize networking. There’s nothing wrong (and many things right!) with trying to advance your career by way of relationships. I think I just tire of the superficiality I see and the disproportionate rewards that are given to people who are good at it and propel ick-like behaviors, because there are ecosystem effects.

In all fairness, friends will call me out and say that I’m good at networking. The truth is that they’re not wrong; I can certainly hold my own, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better. I feel like what separates me from the people I’m referring to is that I don’t play people the way people play cards — I don’t see them first for what they can give me (a winning hand) and second for who they are (the high card).

Lasting relationships will always involve transaction, which means you’re bound to show your cards at some point, but whether you lead with the hand or the player holding it informs the kind of person you are.

What’s changed

Something I had to ask myself is why I’m feeling this way today vs in years prior. Networking has always been a part of my work-life since before the work itself, beginning at university, during business school, and throughout my career - so why now?

Two factors I’m spotlighting - busier friends and broader boundaries:

• Busier friends: The general consensus within my circle seems to be that we’re going to more and more of these events alone (due to parenting and whatnot), and by doing so, the focus/expectation shifts - from something that’s personally fun(ny) to something that feels professionally performative. What once was an event that a friend and I simply went to (and laughed off/left, if bad!) is now an event that we grin and bear more than before. It’s a game of BATNAs. To me, there is no better alternative than spending time with friends; we’d have a good time anywhere, including networking events. There is, however, a better alternative than going to networking events, which is what makes them a necessary evil.

• Broader boundaries: During the pandemic, society elevated the importance of creating boundaries — physical ones (i.e., social distancing) and emotional ones — for our health and safety. Creating and respecting boundaries were encouraged, positioned as acts of responsibility and care, but I worry that we’ve gone too far and the residual effects are that we’re less approachable, less outgoing, and less amenable. There is so much good that comes out of turning inwards for personal growth, so I’m wary to ask if we’ve stayed in this space for too long out of personal protection and comfort.

  It can be a rough-and-tumble world out there, and I think it’s driving many of us to put on emotional armour before stepping out; we want to protect ourselves, and one way of doing that is projecting toughness. But humans seek balance, which means tenderness is inevitably needed after braving the wild, and home can feel like a place to safely express it, seek it, and restore it.

  The thing is, I don’t think it’s sustainably healthy to compartmentalize this way. It’s a survival tactic that works for only so long before being desensitized or languishing. I think a better way towards well-being is inviting toughness and tenderness both inwards and out, and for me, my friends help unlock that.

Shut up, we’re going

It used to be that people felt a sense of courtesy/obligation to explain why they were saying no to something. I feel like those days are long gone when it comes to acquaintances and casual friends, but I’m kind of bringing it back with respect to those I deem my chosen family.

“Shut up, we're going” is now my response when friends tell me they want to stay home out of comfort, because we both know better; a little tough-love among friends can lead to more tender support in the world, and vice versa.

Btw, this applies to me, too…someone invited me to go to a work event in Baltimore (because he knows I have family in Maryland) and I didn’t really want to go. I was so tired at the time, but refusing would've made me a hypocrite, so we made a 24-hour trip out of it. His work event was ultimately the perfect excuse to log a core memory out of a silly little shared experience, and I even squeezed in a breakfast with my nephews — a win-win.

Redefining a good night

With all this in mind, the problem I needed to solve wasn't networking in itself, but the ick I felt on mornings after.

In 2013, Marissa Mayer was CEO of Yahoo and making headlines for her hot takes regarding working-from-home and motherhood. One thing that wasn’t making headlines was her introverted approach to socializing, which she shared with Vogue:

[Mayer] suffers from shyness, she says, and has had to discipline herself to deal with it. For the first fifteen minutes she wants to leave any party, including one in her own home. “I will literally look at my watch and say, ‘You can’t leave until time x,’ ” she says. “ ‘And if you’re still having a terrible time at time x, you can leave.’ ” She has learned that if she makes herself stay for a fixed period, she often gets over her social awkwardness and ends up having fun.

I think of this blurb every time I need to rally, but have also tweaked my approach accordingly:

1. bring friends, when able! (as discussed)

2. tell myself that all I have to do is show up and stay for 20 mins (There’s a separate post about belonging that I want to write about, but in short, there’s no reason to stay where you’re not welcome.)

3. focus on net-positive: define a good night as meeting ONE good person / making ONE genuine connection. Prioritize high cards over winning hands.

Misery loves company

I really can’t express how validating it was to read that little blurb in Vogue (of all places!) so many years ago. And when I first started sharing this one-night stand metaphor with friends, it was a way to reconcile what I was seeing and feeling at these events with how everyone else seemed to express them. Whether I like it or not, I've met some of my dearest friends through networking, which makes it either the punchline or the whole point (it depends on the morning).

To those who love it, I'm genuinely happy for you. To others like me who share a love-hate for it, you’re in good company, x.

Here’s how I see it:

• Reflection is simply thinking.

• Synthesis is organizing thoughts into themes.

• Distillation is extracting meaning and learnings from those themes.

• Intention is setting meaningful direction.

If we apply a time construct to this:

• Reflection and synthesis are rooted in looking back.

• Distillation is ideally done by looking around.

• Intention prepares us to look ahead.

What I’ve seen over the years is a tendency to leap from reflection (i.e., last year) to intention (next year), but between past and future is of course the present - a place I hope we give appropriate attention.

A common pitfall I’ve seen is setting intentions based on past circumstances rather than present ones. Circumstances change, and where we are now defines how well/poorly-positioned we are to move forward. This is what makes distillation so important - it’s when we separate sunk costs from opportunity costs and decide what’s worth doing and when’s worth trying.

Worth is a funny thing, though - it’s both dynamic and binary.

• Dynamic because worth/value is subjective to you/your circumstances and a function of both present and future.

• Binary in the sense that if given the constraints of a specified time horizon, something is either worth it or it’s not. And the ability for that answer and personal value to endure time decides whether something is ultimately transactional and/or transformational, as both can be true.

dynamically binary

You know how some people really struggle with deciding what’s worth it? I’m not really wired that way; assuming I have enough information (that is far less than perfect information), a pendulum in me tends to swing so strongly in a direction that there’s no denying where I stand, whether I like it or not(!). In this sense, I see my life as pretty black and white (i.e., binary), and how I choose to proceed as shades of grey (dynamic). But what’s interesting to me is when that pendulum suddenly swings another direction for reasons less known (strong opinions, loosely held is the phrase that comes to mind). The example I’ll give is my move to Portland in 2018.

I was interviewing for a Jordan Brand role and it was of serious consideration but not sincere interest, at least for the first few rounds. Even after visiting Nike headquarters, I came back to my life in NY with no expectations of leaving, which is why I can’t tell you what changed - only where it did. I was running the loop in Central Park and somewhere between Harlem Hill and the 86th Street Traverse, my inner voice suddenly screamed, “F*CK, I’m moving to Portland.”

The way I explained this to friends who appreciate more rational explanations was that I make decisions based on whether they’re net-positive. NY had 10,000 points, and this opportunity had 10,004. Yes, four…I could name 4 things this would give me that my situation in NY at the time couldn’t.

I share this because as net-positive as 4 is, the former employee-of-an-accounting-firm in me would also say that 4 (or less than 1% of 10,000) is not material. Herein lies the beauty of worth - the factors that influence it are discriminately weighted.

What led to my Central Park realization continues to baffle me to this day, but the ease for which I accepted it doesn’t. That inner pendulum (aka conviction) was reminding me of who I am and who I want to be.

the forgotten list

Below is a list I wrote in 2017 and completely forgot about until I found it the following year, while packing for my move to Portland. This caption will explain more. I don’t know if my sudden change of heart is because of this list, though part of me thinks so. Regardless, it’s still the easiest one I’ve ever written about myself and I think YUP. all these years later.

who I am and who I want to be

(FYI: I see this as one question, so grammar will reflect this)

I’ve been thinking a lot about this list lately because a few heavy-hearted things in November and December knocked me off my feet in ways that stopped the pendulum. (I’m questioning my conviction in ways that most people can’t detect, but what’s important is that I can.) This has led me to re-examine who I am and who I want to be. Unlike in 2017, my present-day situation isn’t driven by work, which is why I went back in time today to tell you one that was.

The first time I answered this question of who-I-am-and-who-I-want-to-be was 1998; it wasn’t a question I actively asked myself but is one I actively answered. I’ve been racking my brain wondering if 2017 is truthfully the second time I did…I think so(?), which makes this moment in time the third. None of these moments to date have been about reversing decisions I’ve made; each expands on what came before. 1998 was about integrity. 2017 - I’ll skip over since you’re looking at it. And 2025/26 (the Lunar Year of the Snake) seems to be about the virtues and values that this list is built upon. For example, trust. How is it defined, according to societal norms and me? What are the components? When do I choose to lean into/question it? When is it personal and not? When is it best to give/get it vs earn it? This is specifically not about who I trust, but rather how I do, because it’s important to me that how informs who. (Repeat this with a handful of other values and virtues that knocked me off my feet, and you’re starting to see what I’ve been up to lately.)

Questioning conviction is real trip when I’m currently unsure of a few fundamentals, but I am sure of one thing - I trust the process. The way I go about answering these sorts of questions is abstract and lateral (not like the list of trust questions above). I wander through it with patience and an Eastern cultural mindset, and where I find it is everywhere around me. What’s reassured me these last few weeks is discovering that where I’m landing are places similar to where I started (which is a good thing, given my circumstances), but my reasons for being there are different - broader and deeper. The inner pendulum’s swing will be smoother, for this work will bring greater consistency and agility in how I carry myself, especially over time. In the meantime, the nearer-term payoff is a sense of clarity and conviction that has begun to take shape - enough for that pendulum to start moving, though I wouldn’t say it’s “swinging” just yet.

Postscripts

[PS] I worry that my first message will get lost: Don’t just look back to look ahead - please please please look around and plan the future from the present.

[PPS] This post is a little more like what you’d find on my IG vs SOAR, so I feel weird putting it here. What ultimately led me to publish this are your messages:

• My resume needs a reset and I don’t even know where to start. (I think who-you-are-and-want-to-be can help with this.)

• I either don’t know my story, or I don’t have a process in place to get that story out of me. I’ve tried on for size the stories that I wrote a few weeks ago to see how it feels…and it doesn’t feel right. (This, too.)

I don’t really feel like what I share on SOAR is much of anything (except maybe honest), especially when there’s already so much content / so many stories that cover similar themes. I find a lot of what I see/read to be mechanical and linear in ways that may not reflect reality (like that list of questions re: trust), and wonder how much I’m contributing to this vs correcting it; it’s one of many reasons why I struggle to publish. But every once in a while, I’ll come across something about a specific experience that is exactly what I needed, which is why I’ve shared one of mine today - to balance the scale. It’s mathematically immaterial but hopefully net-positive.

[PPPS] Normally this time of year, I’d be hibernating and thinking about my two-word brief. I have not been hibernating (which is stressing me out), but know it’s more important to answer who-I-am-and-who-I-want-to-be. From a process standpoint, I’m nearing the end of the messy middle (where there are a few detours left to wander) and approaching the interesting, uncomfortable place of what this will lead to - a Central Park a-ha moment? a 2017 list? I don’t know…but what I’m learning is that these quiet moments arrive with force and ease (after periods of patience and strain) and can be life-defining. In this way, 2025 changed me just as the Year of the Snake (symbolizing wisdom and transformation) is said to and will continue to until Lunar New Year.

Cheers.

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Today, I’m diving into the tomato-potato reference I introduced last month because narratives have power, therefore words matter.

Brief background: I look up the most everyday words every day, not because I’m trying to, but because I’ll come across a word that just feels off, hear it like a wrong musical note, and try to find a more harmonious one that then feels right. The definitions of these words often turn out being same-same-but-different, which sounds like tomato-toMAHto to some but tomato-potato to me.

A few notes first:

• I generally try to stick with academic definitions because they’re the greatest common denominator and less likely to change over time, but there are instances when cultural or colloquial definitions are stronger than common ones. I share this because as much as I welcome you to challenge my interpretations of these words (especially in cultural or colloquial contexts), if you’re simply responding with an academic technicality, save your energy.

• I use ‘or’ and not ‘versus’ between these words because none of them conflict with each other. I’m highlighting these words today because of how I’ve seen them conflict with narratives we tell ourselves.

• These are listed in no particular order.

Alright, let’s get going:

predictability or stability

Copy-pasting the example I wrote last month: Freelancers have told me they’re thinking about returning to full-time because they want “stability,” but in many cases, what they’re really after is predictability - of income, team, pipeline, or a type of work and deliverable.

While I was freelancing, people didn’t hesitate to tell me that I had no stability (which was my first priority), and most of the time, I let them believe it even though that’s not how I felt. Stability to me meant cash flow, and I had more than enough on hand to maintain an abundance mindset (which is all I wanted because scarcity mindsets can lead to self-fulfilling prophecies). I may not have had as much project-predictability as others, but I had enough(!) to not jeopardize my sense of stability.

preparation or planning

Preparation is rooted in readiness, and I see it being brain-based before all, like the way we talk about being mentally-prepared, which comes before being informationally- or physically-prepared. Planning to me is more defined and action-based.

Example: when a recruiter would tell me that a company wanted to schedule an interview, preparation was knowing where my interview materials were and how much time I needed to get ready. I wouldn’t actually do anything actionable (e.g., get smart on the company, know my talking points) until an interview was scheduled.

Why is this nuance important? First and foremost, because life still happens while I’m planning it, so there’s a trade-off in being less present. Second, it takes more energy to plan than prepare.

what you do or who you are

Identity is such a tricky thing to talk about so I won’t dive deep here. But when people ask me how I seemingly(!) seamlessly navigate between functions (e.g., strategy, marketing) and industries (e.g., sport, tech, retail), I tell them that I think the first obstacle to hurdle is the one they often make themselves…I don’t see myself as a marketer or a strategist – I see myself as having expertise in marketing and strategy, the same way I have or am building expertise in other areas. I just generally avoid anchoring my identity in what I do. (Side note: here's an old SOAR piece about anchoring.)

This is definitely more of a preference-based tomato-tomahto than tomato-potato, but it matters to me because at the end of the day, part of how others see me is a function of how I see myself. And in all sincerity, if I’m any kind of marketer, it’s a farmers-marketer above all.

wealth or privilege

Wealth is purely monetary; its advantage sits under a larger umbrella called privilege. But there are different kinds of privilege, and I’ve always thought about how much more powerful privileges like access (to knowledge, people, places, restaurant reservations, etc.) are than wealth alone. Wealth undeniably aids in unlocking different dimensions of privilege, but it’s not a prerequisite and that’s what I try to remind myself.

While we’re on the subject, a few personal opinions:

• Everyone has privilege(s) of some kind. Whether it’s as appreciated or coveted is separate from whether privilege exists.

• I don’t judge people who have privilege; I judge people who don’t share it. Please please please let that sink in and consider behaving accordingly.

attention or appreciation

Attention is simply being noticed, whereas appreciation includes being valued.

I don’t feel that society as a whole naturally appreciates and rewards the way I operate, so there are days when I wonder if I should sell out for attention, but the thought of encouraging the very thing that I despise makes me feel empty and gross - here’s why.

If you’re wondering what an attention-first approach looks like to me, I’ll illustrate using SOAR. I could make the titles more straight-forward and search-friendly than Tomato-Potato, write click-bait like how to get a job at Nike, and create frameworks and checklists for people to feel productive (even when I only see it as busy work…). And here’s the thing: it’s not that I don’t know how to - it’s that I fundamentally don’t want to; it’s simply not aligned with what I want readers to get out of SOAR. Interestingly, my style of writing might be(come) the only reason why you believe these aren’t AI-written.

confidence or comfort

The easiest thing for me to do is to direct you here and add that confidence comes with evidence - it’s what you already know you can do because you’ve done it, like eat a peach and hug a friend. I’m not always confident that I can do something, but my comfort in trying is perceived as confidence because my darling friends don’t see me failing (even when I do); at worst, they only see me trying. (I absolutely cannot overstate the power of emotional safety here…should you have the privilege of finding it, cherish and protect it.)

status or skill

Specifically in the world of work, this one’s tricky until it’s not…at some point, most people realize that status is not necessarily the result of skill. When I’m talking skill here, I’m referring to an area of expertise outside of workplace politics (which I acknowledge is a skill). Barack Obama kind of touched on this here.

I’m now going to state the obvious…not every manager/leader/C-suite is hired for reasons that you value; it’s your job to discern and decide if a person with status is someone you want to work with and learn from. (On the scarier side, it’s wise to ask how status can be used and abused, and the pros/cons of affiliating.)

kindness or niceness

When it comes to people you care about, being nice is the insult to being kind. Being nice is about comfort — it lives and fades in the moment. Being kind is about building beyond it. Niceness makes someone feel good right now. Kindness makes someone better, in and over time. The courage to choose kindness is how to show you truly care.

free mind or free time

Free time is merely mins in a day; finding it feels like a linear equation where you’re solving for predictable constraints. Free mind, on the other hand, feels more to me like calculus (i.e., the mathematical study of continuous change!); this is harder to solve for because variables like health, emotions, and other humans are more dynamic than time alone.

Surprise, surprise!

We don’t live in a world that is exclusive to ‘or’ and need to embrace ‘both/and,’ so here are the word pairings that I hope we forever-couple and balance like yin and yang.

Perception and reality

Talk about the power of narrative…I don’t need to explain why both are relevant, but what I’d like to highlight is the obvious reminder to not lean into perception so much that you lose your grasp of reality (which I recognize can be relative). Personally, I think it’s both easy and a mindfuck to do things for likes because as much as I know how to play the game, the game plays with my peace of mind. It makes me wonder if I can trust people for my right reason(s)…are these people interested in me for me, or it (i.e., something they’re hoping to benefit from)? This leads to more questions like, should I care?? For the sake of staying on topic, I’ll pause here and say that this loosely ties back to the first two bullets in this post about whether people demonstrate curiosity or care.

Am I less “successful” because I avoid playing the game? Most definitely, but I’m also healthier because of it, and the body keeps the score (as Bessel Van Der Kolk’s book is so brilliantly titled).

If I’m going to play the perception game, I generally choose to play it differently - more earnestly and with less mimicry so there’s less of an ick factor.

hype and heart

I could talk for hours about the layers of hype and heart, but simply put, I think hype is what differentiates us, and heart is what connects us. We need both; it’s a tale as old as time.

what is and what if

Practical and possible. I’m frequently called out for being pragmatic and romantic, though not often at the same time or by the same people. So much of this is about time and place - how I see (with practicality or possibility) is as much a function of where and when as it is free mind and free time.

time and energy

If you’re of average health, then I see energy as finite and time as infinite. YUP, you read that right. If you disagree, then what bridges our POVs is likely in how we prioritize. I learned a long time ago that I might not always have time, but am one to make it. In accepting that, my challenge becomes aligning time with energy to unlock a flow state.

Parting words

This is merely a starting list. Are there more word-pairings worth talking about? Of course; just last week, ‘self-preservation or self-protection’ was especially top of mind, but today’s list captures what has regularly come up as I chat with you dear readers.

More importantly, this is merely my list (I’d love to know yours). Some of my interpretations might not make sense, and that’s okay! But if by chance this helps improve your thinking or narrative, I’m glad, x.

Everyone knows it. Most everyone loves it. It’s easily one of the best consumer-facing lines ever executed. And yet, I can’t emphasize the pain I feel when I see people take this line so literally that they just [do something] too quickly. When tasks are hard and stakes are high, this can lead people to just do it again and again, and I wince knowing that intentions are pure.

While again can be positively associated with mindsets such as practice makes progress and failing fast, there are ways of doing things that don’t have to come at such a grand expense, including ones other than financial. For example, people burnout just as quickly as they burn holes in their pockets, making fatigue (in my humble opinion) the bluest flame.

What comes before it

Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose.
(It comes from the TV series Friday Night Lights)

An analogy for those of a certain SAT-testing era:
clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose : just do it :: intention : execution

When it comes to intention and execution, I don’t believe one is more important than the other; the most skilled are strong in both and put one before the other. Whether we’re planning to go ten floors up or ten years out, strong intention - which is what we’ll focus on today - is kinder to everyone when it’s rooted in vision, commitment, and scenario awareness (think “situational awareness” but for scenarios, and help me think of a better term!).

Back to the Friday Night Lights line…in a perfect world, eyes and heart are not only in balance, but also stay in balance (if only!). Realistically speaking, it’s fine for these two things to ebb and flow, but I start worrying when heart exceeds vision because this is when people tend to just do things. Heart here can be any kind of emotion - frustration, ambition, elation; it’s not about what’s good or bad, but its positioning relative to clarity. And if clarity is a function of sight, here’s what I’ve learned people don’t always see:

• In the vision, precision of the problem and/or objective.

• In scenario awareness, the range of probable factors that influence outcome(s).

While oversight is never intentional, I think so much of it is highly preventable (or at minimum, preparable).

Sharpening your sight

Here are a few suggestions to [do hard/high-stake things] with more clarity, creativity, and practicality. My expectation in sharing these isn’t for someone to suddenly hit a hole-in-one - it’s to simply and consistently play under par.

1. Focus on the drop or the ocean. In other words, anchor on a problem or vision.

Drop. Ocean. Problem. Vision. Before you scoff at metaphor and jargon, give me a chance to distinguish these because I think diction is important, as you’ll read later on.

• Problem is rooted in difficulty - friction, at best; pain point(s), at worst. The feeling that we’re solving for is frustration.

• Vision, on the other hand, is rooted in opportunity. There can be pain points involved, but rather than solving something, this is more about seeing something - betterment of sorts - that, for me, is always through rose-colored glasses.

• Another word worth mentioning is objective. Intention is embedded in the definition of objective, which means problems and visions automatically have them.

In saying “focus on the drop or the ocean,” I’m suggesting that the problem is the drop - singularly identifiable and extremely specific, and the vision is the ocean - vast, endless, and waiting to be explored. Start with one or the other instead of both or a place in between.

The reality is that it’s common to land somewhere between, but Statistics teaches us that average is best as an output and not an input to inform outcomes. Outliers and extremes, on the other hand, are crucial inputs for how they reveal information that averages can otherwise obscure. By focusing on extremes, you’ll gain foresight to relevant problems, opportunities, and ecosystem dynamics sooner than had you started somewhere in the middle.

2. Craft for clear articulation, consistent interpretation.

As obvious as this may seem, people tend to focus more on consistent articulation instead of consistent interpretation, so let’s pull these apart:

• Clear articulation starts with you and your willingness to search for the words that describe your problem/vision/objective as exactly as possible. I say search (instead of find) because if you’re anything like me, it takes a couple of tries to nail this with the help of a good ol’ dictionary or friends who operate as one.

• In contrast, consistent interpretation starts with them and your understanding of their context to adjust your articulation accordingly. What you say matters only as much as how they hear it.

A quick example:
Freelancers have told me they’re thinking about returning to full-time because they want “stability,” but in many cases, what they’re really after is predictability - of income, team, pipeline, or a type of work and deliverable. What might sound like tomato-toMAHto to you is tomato-potato to me. When constraints breed creativity, it’s key to know which constraints are the right constraints to accurately inform articulation, interpretation, and ultimately solutions!

3. Build a playbook and play it out.

This suggestion is either the easiest or hardest for me to describe.

Easiest because I could simply say:

1. Break it down: Separate must-haves from nice-to-haves in your vision/problem.

2. Play it out: For each must-have, ask what happens before and after; keep asking until you can’t go any further. Do this with every must-have (and nice-to-have, if you’re new to this game).

3. Plan it out: Use what you learned in step 2 to guide your sequence of actions. Think Rube Goldberg, and make sure it’ll work (even if it’s not on the first try).

   (Sidenote 1 of 3: If you’re wondering why I’m referencing a Rube Goldberg, which celebrates less-than-efficient paths, I’ve seen how the most mechanically-efficient ones may not be the most human-efficient, which is often a relevant factor when it comes to hard/high-stakes things. As such, I aim for what I call pleasant efficiency, which I think a Rube Goldberg is an illustrative example of.)

Here’s where it gets tricky (and why this can be the hardest to describe) without enough know-how or reps:

• Knowing what’s needed: Accurately identifying and classifying must-haves and nice-to-haves isn’t always obvious. If you’re unsure, ask others and/or assume it’s a must-have. (Example: an employee referral for a job is practically a must-have these days.)

• Understanding all things quality: Good inputs lead to good outputs (or trash in, trash out as some say), but knowing what entails high-quality often takes skill/resources. From there, attaining and achieving quality might be hard, but maintaining it is harder. The best in the game play chess, not checkers and plan long-term. (This helps partly explain why Bobby Fischer prioritized physical fitness.)

• Playing with agility: Sometimes things don’t go as planned. Agility is about responding wisely (which is not the same as quickly) when circumstances change. Avoid two things: (a) anchoring to plans more than objectives, and (b) losing sight of objectives as plans change.

If knowing these things is half the battle, putting them into practice is the other. And if you’re lucky enough to play at the highest level, execution isn’t just about action, but excellence.

What makes an athlete

Instead of detailing everything that defines an athlete, I’m going to focus on what I think sets each definition apart:

• The sport definition of an athlete colloquially assumes competitiveness - a desire to outperform others (and a feeling I just don’t relate to).

• The workplace/corporate definition usually implies a combination of collaboration and performance (where competitiveness is neither encouraged nor discouraged).

  (Sidenote 2: Regarding this “neither encouraged nor discouraged” piece, I’d be remiss to not mention that the role of politics is often at play, whether it be on court or in corporate America. The difference is whether the assessment of one’s skill/performance includes or excludes political ability in sport/corporate arenas, which then raises the question: which game(s) are we really playing? I’ll spare you my answer for now so we can get to the last definition…)

• The academic one (that I resonate most with) emphasizes proficiency to play rather than wins, which means athleticism is more purely a function of fitness pillars such as strength, endurance, and mobility.

I’ve yet to feel any kind of personal high from winning, or see myself as an athlete by sport standards, but by academic ones, there was a period of time when I did - my 2.5 year job hunt. Because outside of my social life, everything including freelancing was in service of being always-ready and playing at the highest level every time. I nourished for my body and networked for my mind. Off-days were strategic and rest was scheduled. As for “game times” - coffee chats, interviews, thank-you notes, calls to give/take rejection - I left it all on the field. So when the time came to sign and submit my offer, what I felt was not a winner’s high but a sigh of relief and near-disbelief.

My first 8 weeks

My job hunt started January 2021 and ended June 2023. It’s hard for me to comment on whether 2.5 years is a short or long time, but what I will say is that it’s hard to find others who had as healthy of a recruiting-attitude as I had for a similar length of time. I attribute so much of this to the eight weeks that came before it, when I focused on getting my house in order. I…

• set a vision of the qualities I wanted my job to have and the pain points I wanted it to solve.

• told as many friends as I could count on what I was about to get after come January.

• reached out to executives for their takes on resume formats: one page or two? Business or design layout?

• mentally prepared for some inevitable highs and lows ahead of me.

All of this was in the effort of achieving three goals: (1) writing one-and-only-one resume; (2) continuing on with this romantic little career of mine; and most importantly (3) not needing to look for another job for at least two years after starting.

I’ve always known that finding a job wasn’t what was going to kill me, but rather the possible need to find another one so soon after that would. For me, one job hunt was going to be effortful, but two within two years of starting would be demoralizing. This is what led me to turn down an attractive offer (in the eyes of others) nine months in. This is also what led me to care a little less about how long I’d been on the job hunt, because getting the job wasn’t my goal - staying in one I wanted was.

Life is a team sport

I recently finished my second season with my company and cannot put into words the small-but-significant sense of alignment I feel and extreme amount of gratitude I hold. If we sync this back to what this entire post has been about, I always knew that once I set my vision after those first eight weeks, I wouldn’t lose sight; it’s just not in my nature to when logic feels linear. Emotions, on the other hand, don’t always, which is why early on, I told as many friends as I could count on. True to form, they kept my heart and hope afloat (twice, actually) when the search hurt.

It’s why I’ll end on a predictable note: Choose your teammates wisely and invest in seeing clearly. This way, you can’t lose when you just do it.

Parting thought (and VIP Sidenote 3!)

There’s a word - strategy - that you didn’t see until right now; this is intentional! As much as intention is part of strategy, they are not - I repeat, NOT(!) - one and the same. Nuance matters and as a strategy snob, this misconception is the last thing I’d want anyone to take away today.

Alright, if you made it to the end, WOW. Thank you for reading, x.

After a slow summer for those job hunting, it was nice to see the dam brake on Tuesday when a flood of open roles appeared in my LinkedIn feed. It comes at a time when I find the job market more interesting than ever, not due to Labor Statistics findings, but oddly the lack of sound judgement I've recently seen. Here's some of what I mean:

• Spiraling AI fears: Your texts rhetorically asking, "Are we freaking out about AI and jobs?!" (Truthfully, only if we let it, so how about we not; one possible way is to separate ‘what we know’ from ‘how we feel’)

• Referrals gone wrong: Hiring managers (who not long ago were on the other side of the table) telling me, "I get it now…," referring to why they so rarely got a response after applying - because a job posting from a small, unknown company can now attract hundreds of applicants. And among referrals, a double-digit percentage of them are for people with no direct or adjacent experience. Not only that, but the person referring them doesn't bridge the gap as to why an unqualified candidate should be considered. (I get why this happens, but feel like it usually looks poorly on the candidate and person making the referral.)

• Skipping referrals completely: My old roommate cold-applying, only to find out that I know someone at the company-of-interest who could've referred her…(the lovingly harsh and sarcastic text chain that followed, coupled with writing this bullet to put her on blast will hopefully ensure that this never happens again.)

• Slow starts: Candidates expressing sincere interest in open roles, only to then sit on them for days. (May I remind you that I found my job posting, asked for a referral, and got an email from a recruiter within 24 hours? See February)

• Hiring managers with respect to Goldilocks Syndrome: We went from candidate pools that were underqualified to ones that are now overqualified. (Net-positive, I thought!) Except hiring managers are finding this suss and making assumptions about candidates’ intentions in ways that I'm now proactively addressing and sporadically challenging. (I get that managers are worried about overqualified new hires immediately asking for promotions/leaving/etc., but this week alone, I referred two people who are just looking for a job that they can find a little meaning in, at the right comp, and with a good manager. I can relate because I was in their shoes once - see "Sep-Nov")

I say these things not to be a grouch, but out of hope - that in our buzzy effort to rekindle routine, we might also rekindle discernment.

Meanwhile…

Reorgs and layoffs have been ongoing, affecting a couple of my favorite coworkers-turned-friends. I got a call late Tuesday night from someone who had until Thursday to decide between: (option A) a demotion that comes with starting a new role with a new manager, or (option B) taking severance, ~6 months pay. Knowing that I had chosen the severance route in 2020, he called me thinking that I'd champion option B. After he answered a few questions, I strongly recommended option A.

This situation demonstrates one of my most frequent worries - that people will see something I’ve done and misinterpret the context and intention behind the action because it's so easy to focus on the outcome.

When I asked why he called (thank goodness he did!), it’s because he considers me (and the decision to take severance) courageous. Oof…it's hard to describe how hearing that felt; as kindly as he meant it, I told him two things: (1) that courage takes a lot of heart and both options would require equal amounts of it, just applied differently; and (2) the way we talk about courage is so imbalanced. It’s this very distortion that has brought SOAR back to you today.

Routes of courage

Let's cover one of the more recognized routes of courage (there are many, of course): this is the one where you have a job that you know / might even love and yet, are feeling like it isn’t for you anymore. The one where you’re comfortable - so cozy-comfortable that you question why you’d ever leave, but somehow still manage to after a season of interviews/rejections/self-assessments that ultimately land you an offer(!). And the one where you’re finally ready to take on a new challenge at a new place with new people and new habits. When this happens, your journey, your success, and often your courage are ultimately recognized, perhaps lovingly from friends and family and/or materially through a new comp and benefits package.

As familiar as I am with this route of courage, I don’t find it to be the most difficult because of how embracing people are of it. There’s another kind, however, that I hope we embrace in equal measure - the more quiescent courage to stay in a job (rather than leave it).

There are only two elements to courage: fear and a person’s ability to act (in spite of or because of it). Whether fear exists in familiarity or novelty is irrelevant, regardless of the seduction in novelty. It can be tempting to assume complacency amid consistency and conclude that someone’s decision to stay in a job is uncourageous or even cowardly; this can be but is not always true. Context and actions (not outcomes) are the deciding factors and I hope we’re diligent enough to be informed.

(Normally, this is the part when I'd illustrate what this more quiescent route of courage looks and feels like; trust me when I say that I tried to. Every version I wrote felt limiting in explanation and understanding, so instead of spending [however long I'd take] to find the right words so more of you might embrace this, I've decided that writing to simply acknowledge those who already do is enough for now. Otherwise, there's an extremely high likelihood that this would become one of the many SOAR posts I've written but not published.)

Confessions of a casual writer, reluctant publisher

Earlier this week, one of you lovely readers caught me writing SOAR and saw for yourself just how many posts I've written (but never shipped). It's because I really find personal joy in SOAR. I enjoy talking about it. I enjoy writing it. The only thing I don't seem to enjoy is publishing it. My reasons have to do with the way that there's a growing formality that substacks are embodying, and I don't take SOAR seriously enough to get my writing to a standard I deem ready for you to receive. And yet, you’ve told me that you still want to.

With that in mind, here’s where I've landed: I'm going to be better about publishing what may be work of slightly lesser quality (or incomplete quality as you’re seeing today) so you can get slightly more quantity. Truthfully, I don’t know how I’ll feel about doing this and how you’ll feel about me afterwards, but we’re going to practice a little courage and grace, and do what the photo says.

One or two more posts should drop later this month. Comment/Reply if you want to reach me before then, x.

If you don't get through today's post, I get it. It's structured a little differently than my norm, and for the sake of my sanity, this will not be the new norm.

On that note, let's get this going

While many of you were celebrating the holidays, I was hibernating. The time around Christmas and New Year’s is the closest indulgence to retirement I'll get before actually reaching it, and what I want to start any year right.

Girl, uninterrupted

For nearly two weeks, I relished in the following:

• (professionally) detachment from work: removing this layer of responsibility is a major enabler for everything else.

• (temporally) the consecutive length: The beauty of hibernation is not in simply making space, but in the extended period of time; it affords me the joy of living as slowly as I want to reap the full benefits of soft fascination (a term that I learned only after writing this, which is a little embarrassing considering how often I’m in it).

• (socially) solitude: I avoided all forms of socializing as much as possible. Unless you were visiting, I didn’t see you. Unless you actually called me by phone, I didn’t immediately get back to you.

• (physically) rest: I’m a social eater and drinker, so by not socializing, it was easy to eliminate caffeine, alcohol, and eating out, which helped my body recalibrate. I slept and napped and slept some more after an effortful year.

• (spatially) my sunny apartment: I love natural light and got to enjoy my apartment during daylight hours, when I’m usually at work.

• (mentally) quiet: I’m pretty decent at compartmentalizing as is, but without any work or social commitments, I could control how much noise I’d let in (vs tolerate), which was nearly none :) It let me focus on whatever I felt like doing, which, for me, often starts with a lot of reading.

Servicing my synapses

Hibernation is a means of survival and (feel free to call me dramatic, but) that’s exactly how I see mine; what I’m focused on keeping alive is my range of critical thinking and imagination. By hibernating, I’m able to not only regain my range, but also expand it.

An excerpt that resonated with me recently comes from Ari's Top 5:

Deep Understanding, whether with individuals or organizations, moves us away from the 21st-century obsession with quick fixes. It reminds us that meaningful insight takes time—time to reflect, study, and piece ideas together from the inside out. As poet and potter M.C. Richards observed, growth happens both down into the soil and up into the air. Digging deep means learning from outside sources while at the same time, as Stas’ Kazmierski taught, adapting those learnings to what is true to us, rather than adopting exactly what others are already doing. Thinkers like Carol Sanford, M.C. Richards, and Timothy Snyder embody this sort of Deep Understanding—blending what they learn from others with their own heartfelt beliefs. Organizations that embrace this approach, as Sanford says, “develop the capacity of the mind to do its own thinking,” creating regenerative, meaningful new realities rather than following rules. Deep Understanding will not be found by following the lead of either self-appointed “experts” or authoritarian leaders. Rather, she writes, repeatedly, “the answers we seek are inside ourselves.”

I don’t know if this is going to make sense, but for the sake of giving you a glimpse into how my mind works and wanders, three thoughts surfaced:

• Critical thinking is Deep Understanding, rooted in the soil. Imagination is ‘regenerative, meaningful new realities,’ untethered in the air.

• Regaining my range is found in Deep Understanding - ‘developing the capacity of the mind to do its own thinking.’

• Expanding it is then found through imagination - something I worry that we don’t prioritize enough as adults.

The best way I've seen the importance of imagination explained is in Bessel Van Der Kolk’s book, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.

Imagination is absolutely critical to the quality of our lives. Our imagination enables us to leave our routine everyday existence by fantasizing about travel, food, sex, falling in love, or having the last word - all the things that make life interesting. Imagination gives us the opportunity to envision new possibilities - it is an essential launchpad for making our hopes come true. It fires our creativity, relieves our boredom, alleviates our pain, enhances our pleasure, and enriches our most intimate relationships. When people are compulsively and constantly pulled back into the past, to the last time they felt intense involvement and deep emotions, they suffer from a failure of imagination, a lot of mental flexibility. Without imagination there is no hope, no chance to envision a better future, no place to go, no goal to reach.

What hibernation breeds

Something funny grows from softly blending critical thinking, imagination, and proper space – an almost unfaltering optimism(!) from being reminded the extent to which perspective is not driven by what we see nearly as much as it is by how we see it (in good times and devastating ones). Critical thinking and imagination help me make the most of anything, and hibernation affords me the space and energy for optimism to bloom.

(I worry that we overcomplicate this or believe that optimism is solely an innate and/or steady state. While it might come more naturally to some, it’s truly a skill that can be nurtured by anyone.)

If you’re anything like me, there’s satisfaction and humor (in an inside joke kind of way) in knowing that my optimism is rooted in what others effectively call ‘doing nothing.’ I consider it effortless, but intentionally don’t talk about hibernating as some art of doing nothing because the more we think about it that way, the less time we might make for it, which would be a shame considering how high the ROI is (i.e., high in mindset and post-productivity, low energy investment. People tell me that the time investment is high (and I get that) but I value energy more than time, which makes this a matter of discipline to find and protect it. Separately, it just so happens that Potluck Club shares my POV on energy tonight!).

Same same but different

There’s an argument worth acknowledging in that hibernation is not the only way to nourish critical thinking and imagination; many things such as travel can, too. YES, of course! but I’m writing about hibernation because (unlike travel) I see a shortage of attention being paid to it, especially in ways that aren’t $$$ silent retreats (no offense - it’s an accessibility thing). The reality is that these aren’t substitutes; they're complements! Similar to how we need 13 daily essential vitamins for our bodies to work properly, a China trip in October and a hibernation in December acted as two of many yearly essential vitamins for me to show up well in 2025.

The argument for and benefits of hibernation are similar to those of the outdoors. Being in nature helps pacify the effects of ongoing overstimulation and enhances focus and concentration, clarity and creativity, and a sense of connection. And yet, I don’t recommend hibernating in nature, but in whatever you associate as everyday and ordinary; assuming that your home is a place of physical and psychological safety, I think it's helpful to find beauty in familiarity – specifically in our space and ourselves – without distraction. Seeing new dimensions of beauty here often makes it easier to see it elsewhere.

Parting thoughts

• For simplicity, I used forms of the word hibernation, but if we want to get really nerdy for a second, I was probably more closely in a state of brumation, which is to reptiles what hibernation is to mammals; the difference is that brumation still involves low levels of activity and hydration, whereas hibernation does not. (This is a reminder to myself to watch Planet Earth: Asia!)

• What a wild year we’re having – LA fires and DOGE, not to mention our day-to-day. So far, my Q1 has been all-consuming and hibernating was a preventative measure for unexpected overwhelm. Had I not, I feel like it the last few weeks would’ve eaten me alive.

• In being reminded of this piece, it’s becoming clear that I have a certain devotion towards trying to explain this yearly thing I do – call it hibernation, simply being, whatever else – because of how important it is to me. Whatever your version of hibernation is, I hope it keeps your critical thinking and imagination alive, and optimism high.

You know that feeling when you've been meaning to reach out to someone, but missed that reasonable window of time so you then hesitate to do so? That's how I felt about writing to you. The more time that passed, the more I felt like I should explain where I've been or write something that was worth the wait, and then you wouldn't hear from me at all.

This is when I'm going to overgeneralize and say that there are two types of people: those who never reach out, and those who eventually do. Hi(!), because I do.

Should you still subscribe tomorrow, you'll find a proper SOAR post from me. I wrote it in January and publishing it will be a first in that I've never written and shelved something before shipping; every SOAR post to date has been written and shipped in a matter of hours or days. Separately, there are dozens of pieces that I've written and you've never read, and truthfully, I thought tomorrow's was going to be no different because the real-time-relevance that the topic had to my life has passed. But in chatting with a handful of you over the last few weeks, I found myself thinking back to what I had written and about how relevance is relative.

SOAR was never created to solve anything, but rather spur something - a realization, a conversation, a shift in mindset, a hibernation. Per usual, I hope that whatever you get from reading it is net-positive.

So I'll see you tomorrow! As for today, please check in on at least one person. Perhaps it's with someone you've long been meaning to but never found the words; if that's the case, let this post do the heavy lifting by simply sending and saying that you're also (or trying to be) the type of person who eventually does.

Inputs

I've started the past few years by writing a two-word brief. The first word is a theme and the second is a call-to-action. I give myself between Jan 1st and Lunar New Year (which is Feb 10th this year) to figure this out, and as of right now, I’m a little annoyed by how far I am from knowing what these two words are. I’ve reviewed 2023 and can feel the vibes I'm working towards in ‘24, but the words remain elusive. They’ll come, though…they always do.

Outputs

The weird thing I've noticed over the last couple of years is that in living out my brief, a reminder or life takeaway of sorts surfaces throughout the year. It comes through my usual form of a one-liner (which I’m known for among friends) that I find myself saying on multiple days and in multiple ways.

Today's post is the first of a two-part-story I'm overdue in sharing because I find writing in chronological order incredibly boring, but since this will get me one step closer to finishing the story that is my job hunt, I’m going to power through this. (If there are abrupt stops and many typos tho, you now know why.)

2022 in review

2022 (not to be mistaken for 2023) was the most challenging year I've faced yet. I love letterpress and this card is one I could’ve sent myself by the end of it. I wrote about four chapters of it here, and as it turns out, there were five. From the perspective of job hunting, here are the noteworthy bits:

• Jan-Apr: wrapped up my time with LinkedIn. Interviewed with Company A for a role that started as one thing and turned into another (that included a title and comp demotion). Despite liking leadership, the industry is on the decline and the company culture is known for needing improvement, so I could no longer see this opportunity as net-positive and turned it down.

• May-Jul: My personal life took priority. Started interviewing with Company B for a role that I was really excited about. I wrote about it here.

  (Now timelines get a little messy because a few months/companies overlapped)

• Aug-Oct: Interviewed with Company C where the job had the potential to be great, but culture and leadership gave me that bad feeling in the pit of my stomach…they went with another person and I felt complete relief.

• Sep-Nov: Found a great role at Company D that had all of the 'must-haves' and even a few 'nice-to-haves.' The catch? I knew from my first info chat that I was overqualified, but kept it to myself because I really didn't mind. From the initial interview through the case round, I left feeling really good(!), and the recruiter was kind enough to repeatedly validate it. He told me when the final decision would be shared and said he had a good feeling about it. When it was time for our call, I could immediately tell from his tone that it was not going to work out. He said the hiring manager had a change of heart because he realized I was overqualified, to which I shared that I knew I was and didn't mind.

• Dec: (not relevant for Part 1 today, but Part 2) Started interviewing with (a) a media & entertainment company and (b) a start-up because I absolutely love the category.

2022 takeaway

After a disappointing outcome with Company D, I was tired and friends could see it. They'd asked how I was feeling, and I would say that I felt like the 'Cinder' side of Cinderella - worthy, but unwanted (which is what I title Chapter 5 of 2022). As for the takeaway that kept resurfacing all year including here, it’s that self-worth is earned. (For the sake of how important I think this is and how much I’ve seen people struggle with really embodying it, I’m saying it again: self. worth. is. earned.)

How you arrive to it matters less than simply arriving (which is why I’m not going into it rn). It can’t be bought. It can’t be faked. And while arriving to it involves external inputs, it’s an internal journey that only you can take.

Parting thoughts

1. People ask me all the time why my brief is two words, and the answer is simple - a good brief is brief (and unfortunately, too few I’ve seen are good or brief…)

2. In reading today’s post, I could understand why someone would be inclined to wonder if I think too highly of myself; maybe to you, I do. All I have to say in response is that the hardest thing about my job hunt was routinely assessing where I was on the spectrum that spans between gratitude and entitlement. As a child of immigrants who have overcome so so much, I'm extremely comfortable navigating life with a decent attitude and an abundance of gratitude. It's why I was relieved when opportunities that I would've felt some kind of responsibility in accepting (e.g., Company C) didn't actually pan out. So am I entitled? Based on where I know my work sits relative to the market and the opportunity that I was looking for, I didn’t and still don’t think so. But it’s a question I think about often and one I ask those I trust most to keep me honest about.

3. I believe an effective process is mechanically structured around four things: good inputs, outputs, sequence, and outcomes. I feel silly saying this because of how obvious this sounds, and yet, I find that we tend to overcomplicate it and focus on the wrong things at the wrong times. I haven’t talked about outcomes until now because they don’t entirely matter at this point (they do in Part 2); the energy people spend on outcomes should really be redirected to inputs. I say this because if we think about this year ahead, I recommend focusing on what we have the most control over (i.e., inputs) and trust that the process works when done well (i.e., make sure your inputs are actually good ones).

4. Wanna know something wild?? Little did I know when I used Cinderella to explain how I felt that I would soon hear from my fairy godmother. Until Part 2…!

New Year's blends a sense of betterment with a holiday that is regularly recurring, as broad as modern day civilization, and not tied to any specific country, religion, person, or accomplishment - how incredible is that?! It's as universally celebrated as a day can get and a time when reflections and intentions are often shared through filters of optimism, possibility, and potential.

But here's the thing…I find it odd that we've normalized recapping a year before it's over. We still have two days left, and not just any two days, but a weekend(!) - the time I always dedicate to simply being. *things* can and will happen, even if we don't take notice, but I hope we do. I hope that we're fully present so we can reflect on the entire year when it's actually over.

I once wrote this post about how time is spent in bed, and feel similarly about this week I take between Christmas and New Year's. I can't really explain what happens to me because it's both everything and nothing all at once; it’s all the benefits of being - without speed, effort, and objective // with intuition and abundance - for an extended period of time. I come out of it ready to tie the year in a bow and let it go. Letting the year (even a good one!) go is so important because it leads to the greatest gift I can give myself - carte blanche. In this context, I’m referring to the freedom to act as one wishes or thinks best without comparison (with oneself from a previous year) or anchoring (which I once wrote about in a job context here).

This is how my New Year's has gone for over a decade, and 2023 will thankfully be no different. But as confidently as I write about this with less than 48 hours to go, I feel quite unready and vulnerable, and per usual, I’m not entirely sure why yet. I'm not worried, though; *something* will seamlessly come together by the time it's time, as it always does. All I have to do is be present enough to spot it.

I'll write more about reflections/intentions/resolutions in the new year. I just wanted to encourage taking in all that 2023 has to offer while we’re still in it. Be well, friends.

I updated my LinkedIn profile a few weeks ago and to some, doing so let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, as those curious enough can now see where I work. While the update is newish to some, nearly everyone who should know was proactively told months ago. (I say 'nearly' because I admittedly forgot a few.) As for how I decided who should know, the answer is in the nuance of care and curiosity.

• Care for me: The people who heard first demonstrate care for my professional well-being, which is often rooted in my personal one. They've never defined my worth according to any status of employment. They trust me when I sense a vibe and remind me of my own advice. And in rare instances when comments are unintentionally projected out of insecurities, they are quick to act with maturity and accountability. In short, they're my friends.

• Curious for themselves: These are often people who repeatedly check my LinkedIn before checking in on me, and whom I think of as friendly professional peers existing somewhere on the spectrum between acquaintance and friend. There's a subset of this group who check my LinkedIn primarily out of competitive comparison and the intent is clear as day. Is this to say that I dislike them? Not at all(!), but we live with different priorities in mind.

The tricky thing is, people driven by competition are why I'd rather not update my LinkedIn at all; I worry that the impact on themselves and others is negative; comparison is the thief of joy, as they say. So as happy as I am to be where I am, sharing this information can open a door to false assumptions and narratives that exhaust me. It's for this reason that I'm writing about a few common misconceptions.

I wasn't trying to work in sport.

My time at Nike has led people to tell me how obvious and natural of a transition it is to go from sport to sport; as much as I understand why this is said from a consumer and culture standpoint, I don’t see it the same way from an employment one. Nike is a public retail company that heavily leverages sports marketing, which differs from where I am today, which operates more like a media company. As Larry O’Brien (the Current company’s 3rd commissioner) once said before joining, "I paid no attention to the business operation of the sport. Needless to say, I never envisioned having a direct relationship with sports at any level in any formal sense." Nevertheless, we both found our way to the same place. 

There are a lot of reasons why sport wasn't an automatic focal point. Among many positive attributes, its reputation includes ‘bro’ culture, less workforce diversity, and lower compensation relative to other industries I pursued. But I was lucky enough to find alignment in a role, city, manager, and organization where the timing feels right, so here we are.

No one recruited me.

I found the job through an Indeed job listing - YEP! (You should see the surprise people express every time I say this.) In fact, I think all but two jobs I seriously pursued over the last 2.5 years originated through Indeed. (See here for why I like Indeed.)

While it's certainly easier to know someone directly, I conveniently cite myself as an example of never having had that advantage. It's a consequence of switching industries and functions, but one I comfortably own.

It didn't just happen so fast.

I love when it does for others but there are many things I've accepted about my life and 'things happening quickly' is not often one of them - not in my career, wealth, or love - ha! In contrast to others' interview experiences I've heard about, my process was pretty smooth(!) until it wasn’t…the day that I thought it was strange that I hadn't heard back about something was the same day the NYTimes shared a lovely update about a hiring freeze. I'll save the whole story for later, but just know that the process took time, as good things often do.

I didn't get everything I asked for.

The most notable thing I didn't get was relo...OOF. Words can't sufficiently describe how stressful it was to move on my own (and yes, I'm being dramatic, but indulge me…); the financial and administrative burden that comes with moving is so taxing, and making sure that energy didn't seep into all things meaningful required so much mental discipline that this was the only thing I was bitter about. Fortunately, the feeling has come and gone with my move. And in all fairness to the org, I never asked whether relo was given because it's a benefit (and privileged entitlement, of course) that is often assumed.

There are people who have told me that I shouldn’t accept an offer that doesn't give me everything I want, and I appreciate the sentiment but think there are too many areas of exception to simply agree. While many offers may not warrant accepting, it's on each of us to understand the context surrounding an offer and place worth on what items are valued. I say this because I have a hot-take that there's a difference between earning a job/offer vs getting it, and as an external candidate and from the perspective of the organization, I argue that I simply got it.

• For internal candidates, a hiring manager has opportunities to assess not only resumes and interview performance, but also relationships and reputations in the org; in that sense, I think it's easier to understand how internal candidates earn their consideration for the job, if not the job itself.

• I, however, was an external candidate. My hiring manager had never met or heard of me before this job was posted and couldn't gauge my performance over time in a similar way. He and others had my resume and several hours of conversations to go off of. So in some ways, there's a leap of faith that a hiring manager takes with external candidates, and in that sense, he gave me the job.

Have you seen the movie Hitch? There's a scene where Will Smith has a 90/10 rule about the first kiss (skip to minute marks 2:00 thru 2:30); that's how I feel about this offer. The same way my hiring manager showed a little faith by leaning in, I rewarded it by accepting an offer and am willing to earn the difference.

Some may say I caved because I didn't get everything I asked for. That's certainly an opinion people are free to have, but I honestly hope they don't start a false narrative that it's how I feel. Disappointment and delight can coexist, and this opportunity was a trifecta in a way that no one has guessed, and I continue to discover many unexpected delights. So as big as I am on empowerment, I'm not someone who takes the narrative of empowerment to a place of entitlement. We all value things differently and framing that value accurately is of utmost importance.

Net-positive intentions

Earlier, I mentioned that I worry about the negative effects that a profile update can lead to, and this worry might seem silly, but it's also sincere. I've slightly touched on this through posts about personal branding and imposters, but simply put (and I'm generalizing here), my biggest concern with social media such as LinkedIn is that we use professional achievements as identity-defining items of transactional-worth to sell to others and ourselves(!). And as some are consumed by a so-called rat-race, career progression (e.g., better titles, more money) may be used to justify bad workplace ethics and behaviors. The scariest part of this is when others deem these behaviors as acceptable and (more terrifyingly) respectable means to an end. And while it’s fair to say I sound extreme, those who have seen this play out understand what this looks and feels like, and the effects are disheartening at best, and damaging at worst.

But I worked for LinkedIn last year because I believe in extending access and inspiring possibilities - from the possibility of finding new opportunities to seeing the same role and its value differently. So as much as I worry about the negative effects that one action can have, I anchor my decisions on net-positive ones. I've always focused on this, beginning with a short 'About Me' section on my profile, but decided to dial it up a notch by writing blurbs for the first time about my work experiences. If you end up moseying on over to my profile and the sections where people put resume bullets, you'll find what I consider accomplishments. Achievements (externally-measured) and accomplishments (internally-motivated) aren't mutually exclusive; I think overlap is healthy and keeps me dreaming. I just hope that when people lurk out of curious comparison, they see an alternative approach - one that inspires growth, connectivity, and fun.

On a final note, I had a hard time deciding if I should publish this post because I've learned to let many misconceptions go; so few are worth the energy in addressing, so it seems weird to write about it. And yet, I feel like perpetuating them is also not net-positive…clearly, I’m still torn and you’re here reading.

I don't quite know how to describe what I write about in this newsletter; if you do, simply reply. All I know is that I intentionally don't write with task-based productivity in mind, but hope you still find SOAR productive in positive ways.

For those in the US, enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday, xx.

Are you officially back in New York now?

For all intents and purposes, yes. The answer will be 'yes, definitely' at the end of this month when I no longer have travel sprinkled in.

Today marks one month in the city and two-ish weeks in my apartment. I recently sent this photo to my niece to let her know that the cute cactus she made me arrived intact! You can see the state my apt was in, but I’m nearly out of the messy middle that comes with moving and am glad the hardest parts - finding an apt and getting all of my things in one place - feel long gone.

How’s the job?

(Yep, I accepted a full-time position.) I'm roughly 100 days in and am loving it. What I love even more is working with my manager. Have you ever seen Suits? It has conveniently become more popular since I started making this reference, but the way I describe him is that he has the chops of Harvey Specter and the heart of Mike Ross; he also happens to be a lawyer.

The hardest part of transitioning into this job has been the small, silly stuff that is thankfully and finally starting to feel easy. For example, I have two phones now and it took me a month as well as missing my first work meeting ever to figure out how to live and work like this. I use a Mac at home and a PC at work, which is now incompatible with my personal Mac monitor; it took me three tries before finding a monitor worth keeping and mixing up Command vs Control buttons is now the norm, but it was nice to discover the muscle memory that I’ve built re: Excel shortcuts.

Anyway, more on the job another day but in short, all is very well.

What are you most excited about?

Laugh all you want, but I was most excited about finally being able to go to the dentist. Unlike medical insurance where your coverage starts on Day 0, the dental insurance that I was considering after COBRA has a lag period that I was trying to avoid the hassle of dealing with. I told myself that if I didn’t have dental insurance after one year, I would accept the hassle, but this role came just in time.

Anyway, I’m sharing this because there are certain disadvantages to not being in a corporate environment that have nothing to do with a job – health is wealth, and it’s nice to pay a little less every month to prioritize it. So that + being cavity-free + my wonderful friends are what make this move so great.

Are you still going to write SOAR?

Yes. I have a lot to say and just haven’t had time to write while savoring my final summer months in Portland, finding an apartment, moving, and simply adjusting. I’ve actually written four different posts that were either done or at the 90% mark, but each time I planned to send them, something (usually relating to the tone) didn’t feel right, and SOAR isn’t about productivity, it’s about intention.

Technically, the process for my current job started in February, but I see the story relating to it having started last October with a completely different opportunity. And while the people and roles between the two are mutually exclusive, the lessons feel connected and inclusive.

The words 'connected' and ‘inclusive’ are ones I've been emphasizing a lot lately and they are very much the undercurrents of SOAR. I started this substack to encourage a little kindness and humanity and what I've learned from you collectively is that SOAR helps open minds to positive possibilities. Equally importantly is what I've seen from you - more intention and personal reflection, more patience with yourself/others/what's worthwhile, and more respect and understanding for new points of view. So while SOAR is no longer about an aspiring OG Chinese grandma on a job hunt, it'll still be about mine for a little while. That plus posts such as my process for resume-writing because I've been repeating myself way too many times lately.

It feels good to write for SOAR again because it means there’s a little more balance in my life to do so. As such, I hope to send another soon. Please take care of yourself, check in on others, and floss daily until then, xx.

SOAR comes after everything else

In the last month, I was on the road for 3 weeks; I was lucky to catch many of you in the Bay Area, DMV, and NY, before unexpectedly sleeping at Newark airport because of a cancelled red-eye at JFK. Last week, I had a health scare (for which I'm fortunate to report that I'm fine). This past weekend, a friend visited me because I live in the best corner of summer. And this brings us to today, with 2 half-posts that I wrote in June’s moments in between, and simply need to finish. What keeps me from finishing is probably not what you think, which leads me to reason #2.

I'm being cheap about buying lattes.

Portland is not only in the best corner of summer, but also one of the best coffee shop cities I will likely ever live in. I love going to one of my many favorites here, engaging in a little small talk as I order a latte, and working and/or writing SOAR. And yet, there are many days when I have no interest in spending the $7 they now cost. I can afford it, but sometimes just feel like a chump paying for it…and as a result, SOAR suffers. The bottleneck is really this simple.

But my dedication to SOAR is stronger than ever because as you'll read soon enough, I've been discouraged by what I've seen and heard from so many of you in June, and hope to snap y'all out of it. So stay tuned and reach out if you need anything in the meantime, xx.

It's been so long and I'm sorry about that. I have such a backlog of stuff to share, but most of my time to write has been dedicated to deck-writing for projects, which should lighten up soon.

Anyway, I’ve found myself reminding people on the power of a quick note lately, and thought I'd extend that to SOAR this morning. This post will be most helpful to those currently interviewing and ends with two questions to consider asking while going through the process.

Situational observations

Context is everything, and the job market has been materially different since November. Companies and hiring managers have larger candidate pools (which is amazing for everyone in the long-run) and are feeling the pressure to perform in tougher times (harder for everyone in the short-run); as such, many are filling open roles by using more linear and heuristic methods (vs indulging in those wonderful critical thinking skills we have). More often than in years past, they're anchoring to what's familiar and a seemingly sure-bet. I can currently name a few examples where executives have brought in VPs and Directors from where they all most recently worked at the same company, which for me is a red-flag to explore and understand more as a candidate.

Implications

1. More job postings are simply for formality. If you aren't in the game before the posting is up, you may be too late.

2. Even if you are in the game, there's usually a preferred/fast-tracked candidate (such as someone the hiring manager has worked with), so unless you come highly recommended, you may also be out of the running. The good-ish news is that recruiters, hiring managers, and employees on teams have been more transparent about this.

Potential actions

I wholeheartedly believe that recruiting is all about energy management, so while the following questions won't necessarily land you a job, I think it can help with the endurance aspect to keep your head in the game.

• For the recruiter call: Can you share where you are in the process? This will give you a sense of whether you're early/late and if there's a fast-tracked candidate, allowing you to manage expectations accordingly.

• For team interviews: I tweak the language every time but it's essentially something like, Is there anything from this conversation or my background that leaves you with any questions re: my fit for the role? This often gives you a sense of how well the interview went and an opportunity to address any concerns that might linger had you not asked. (A few people have shared that they've tried asking similar things like this in the past and it has backfired…I am not here to say you must ask these questions every time - only you can judge whether it will be welcomed and leverage your EQ on the best way how; it's why I keep tweaking the language, but I personally ask every time because I think how the person answers is incredibly informative as well. Don't forget, as much as someone is interviewing you, you're also interviewing them!)

Ugh, this makes me think that I should share the questions I always ask when hiring, but that will need to wait for another time.

Until then, it's mental health awareness month and a great reminder to check in on those you hold dear.

If you’re trying to get a hold of me, simply reply to this note, xx.