One of my favorite talks of all time is a short talk by the wonderful travel author Pico Iyer on the importance of stillness, of taking time off, and of taking a step back from one’s daily life. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately as it’s been over seven years since my last break. I’m at Burning Man this week and next week—taking a step back from day to day life—so I’m going to keep this one brief, and I’m going to take next week off. See you again in two weeks!
Last Time 🍃
Eight years ago I had just exited my first startup. My immediate reaction was, “once a founder, always a founder.” I saw no particular reason to take any time off. I immediately launched another startup, and unlike the previous one, I did it as a solo founder. I chose a market and a category where I could achieve revenue quickly or “fail fast.”
In the event, things went very well. I built a product and a brand alone and entirely from scratch. I dogfooded it myself, launched within a few weeks, and very quickly recruited customers from among my friends. The project was even profitable, barely, and the prospects were good. The next steps were planned and I had an idea how to market and scale the operation.
Then it dawned on me that I was exhausted. I didn’t have a word for it at the time, but I eventually realized that I was feeling burnt out from my previous project, and from the intensity of the new one. It was exciting, but it was exhausting. I saw lots of opportunities passing by—one of the hardest things about being a founder is having to say “no” to everything that isn’t your current project—and I began feeling a growing stress and anxiety. It was a difficult decision, but I decided to put the project on hold and take some time off. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
I caught up on my reading. I traveled, both alone and with my partner. I picked up some new skills and dabbled part-time in a couple of other startup ideas. I worked on holistic health and mindfulness. I decided to give myself a one year sabbatical before either recommitting to the previous startup, or committing to something new.
Over the course of the following few months a series of strange events took place. You could call it “fate”—but in order to take advantage of fate, we need to be receptive when it comes knocking. The series of strange events involved a trip to Tokyo, a catch up with an old friend, a part-time gig as an interpreter, a trip to Estonia, a conference, and a few eye-opening conversations.
As a result of all of this, I found my calling, though I didn’t know it at the time. I came to understand the concept of blockchain, cryptocurrency, and smart contracts. I began studying Bitcoin and Ethereum. The more I learned about these projects and these ideas, the more they began to dominate my life and my thinking. I had been vaguely aware of them previously, but I had been too focused on my startup and hadn’t been in a place to receive or process new ideas, especially not ideas as out there as blockchain.
As usual, I began to dabble. I read as much material as I could get my hands on. I eventually saw the writing on the wall. I hadn’t specifically been looking for a calling, or an epiphany, but I recognized it when it appeared. I ended my sabbatical a little early, headed home, and began attending meetups and scheduling coffee chats with everyone who would give me a few minutes. I eventually found myself at Ethereum Devcon that autumn in Cancun, joined the Ethereum Foundation, and the rest is history, so to speak.
There have been several points in my life when I considered whether or not I needed to take a step back. Every time, though the decision wasn’t easy, I eventually decided to take a step back, and every time, without fail, it was the right decision. I don’t regret any of those decisions. It meant leaving behind places, projects, occupations, even people—that’s inevitable when making big changes—but each of those experiences took me forward in a big way and allowed me to grow.
Looking back, I don’t think my success has been so much a product of knowing ahead of time where I was going or what I wanted to do. There are people who can do that, and I respect those people, but that’s not me. Rather, my talent has been in pushing things to the extreme, knowing when I’ve pushed one avenue of inquiry far enough, and knowing when it’s time to take a step back and make a change, no matter how difficult.
Why It Matters 🌳
In an ideal world we’d all be thoughtful creatures. We’d go into the world, engage with the people around us and experience new things, and then retreat once a day or once a week into contemplation to reflect on everything that happened. We’d integrate these experiences into an updated world view, then go back into the world with a fresh perspective, more mature and experienced than before.
Alas, it’s not so simple. In practice, in my experience, it’s almost impossible to carve out meaningful time for meditation, reflection, and contemplation amidst a busy daily routine. Sure, it’s doable if the practice is baked into your lifestyle—if you’re a monk living an ascetic lifestyle in a monastery on a mountain somewhere. This is less true if you’re deeply engaged with the world around you: family, friends, work, and community relying on you, plugged into current events, politics, and the zeitgeist.
We’re chronically bad at taking a step back and seeing the forest for the trees. And yet, this is hands down one of the very most important things that we must do in order to make sense of what’s going on around us. Pico Iyer uses a metaphor in the abovementioned video that I really like. Day to day, it’s like our faces are right up against the television screen of our lives. We see the individual pixels but we can’t see the big picture. Doing that requires metaphorically taking a step back.
Speaking personally, I feel the need to take a step back growing over time. I feel it in the back of my mind, constantly, nagging me. It feels as if my mind and body have accumulated a massive pile of new experiences and new information that remain unprocessed and unintegrated into the fabric of my reality. And if I wait too long, those data begin to slip away, lost forever. This is as true on the short time scale, e.g., after a long conference week, as it is over longer time arcs: I’m not sure I’ve had much time to step back and reflect on what becoming a parent has meant over the last two years.
And what happens if we don’t take the time to perform this reflection and integration? We remain stuck in our ways. No, this isn’t necessarily the end of the world. If things are good, and relatively unchanging, then maybe there isn’t a lot of new information to incorporate. Maybe, even after stepping back and processing, we don’t feel that much needs to change after all. This is okay too.
But every time I’ve managed to step back, reflect, and integrate, consistently, I’ve felt the need to make big changes. The few times I’ve managed to really step back for a period of weeks, as opposed to hours, I’ve reengaged with a fresh perspective and a renewed, strengthened mission and sense of direction. These moments have marked the inflection points of my life. I’m afraid to think where I’d be if I had never taken a step back, reassessed, and made big, difficult decisions.
The other thing that happens when you take a step back is that it puts your present circumstances, and any frustration you’re dealing with, in perspective. My problems always feel smaller and less significant after some time off. It’s so easy to remain stuck in our ways. It’s so difficult, and so important, to reevaluate, talk to people on very different paths than we are, and to reconsider. Time off is the best way to accomplish this.
Next Time 🌱
When I was young and unattached, it was relatively easy to take a step back. Not exactly easy, but easy-ish. I didn’t have a strong attachment to any particular place. Yes, there were people who relied on me, but I had confidence that they’d be okay without me for a few days or even a few weeks. Taking a step back simply meant taking a little time off work, or reducing my working hours, packing a backpack, and going on walkabout, so to speak. I did this a few times at major inflection points: after spending a year studying abroad, after I stopped working on my first startup, and, most recently, after a particularly stressful couple of years working on Ethereum.
Things are a bit different now. Most obviously, I’m a parent, and while I’m not so hubristic to believe that my son wouldn’t ultimately be okay without me, I also believe that he needs his father. I’m grateful to have a support network in place so that I can travel without him for a few days, but weeks or months away is out of the question. I have a mortgage and lots of other big, adult responsibilities and bills to pay. I’m part of a team and a community that rely on me. Taking a step back isn’t so straightforward as it once was.
I’ve made my peace with that. There’s no right or wrong way to meditate or reflect. Devoting weeks, months, even years to removing yourself from society and sitting in a monastery contemplating the deeper truths of reality is certainly one path, and it may be the traditional path, but it’s far from the only one. I’ve had much less focused time for meditation and reflection since becoming a parent, but I’ve also managed to carve out time here and there, and I’ve found many opportunities for “micro mindfulness” on a daily or weekly basis.
And I’ve found one “cheat code”: playing with cadence. Time off doesn’t need to be measured in weeks or months. You could take an entire season off, or do a sabbatical. That’s fantastic when it’s possible. But you could instead choose to take one day a week, or even an hour a day. Over the long term it amounts to the same thing. Mindfulness is not one-size-fits-all.
I’m also not convinced that it needs to be done alone! In my experience, while individual contemplation is important for understanding what’s going on around you, we also need social interaction to fully unpack and integrate things. I haven’t completely worked this out yet but I believe that you can take time off with family and friends, and that taking time off together is maybe even a better option because it means you have a community to share learnings with.
Another option is taking time off partially rather than completely. It’s possible to put yourself in a different place geographically, adjust your work schedule, reduce commitments somewhat, and still have plenty of time to make meaningful progress.
I obviously haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m working on it, and I’ll share my progress and what I’ve learned. I hope to be able to take some time off again soon, and to include family and friends as well. I feel the urge building. I’ll write more about the experience when I’m able, and I’d love to hear what has and hasn’t worked for you!