Everywhere All at Once
I’ve been conflicted recently.
When I chose political science as my major back in my sophomore year of college, I did it not knowing what I wanted to do. Not as a placeholder, but as a way to keep my options open. The problem is that those options are still open, and I am no closer to closing them.
I have been studying for the LSAT since May, but I don’t know if I really want to become a lawyer. I take the GREs in December, still not ruling out grad school in another area like international relations. I start a course to get my EMT certificate in January with hopes of maybe pursuing a career as a firefighter and when I have been bored, I’ve been taking lessons in coding, entertaining ideas of working in software. Several routes and I have no clue which to pursue.
I will always be writing, but I see it more as a vocation than a career, something that I will always be doing regardless of whether I am able to make a living out of it. And I think to be a good writer, one needs to live a real life, one where you’re out in the world experiencing it, rather than isolated writing about it. Thus, my desire for another career.
Let me explain my thinking process, or rather the one I borrowed from someone much smarter than me. Naval Ravikant is is an Indian-American entrepreneur, investor and thinker who has become popular online for his advice. As I have been struggling with a lack of conviction, one particular piece of wisdom stood out to me; play long-term games with long-term people. In one’s career, in their relationships, and in their knowledge.
Let’s unpack that.
Playing long-term games unlocks the value of compound interest. If I get 1% at writing every day without any setbacks, I become 3678.3% better at the end of the first year. A the end of the second year, 142658.8%. Third-year, 5447756.6%. Anyone who works in the stock market will tell you that those are insane numbers.
Apply that towards relationships. If I put the same amount of effort towards let’s say a significant other, a business partner, or a friend, imagine how close we would be towards the end of the year. Over the course of our lives.
You don’t get the same value if you are constantly switching careers, or ending business partnerships, or flitting between relationships. Each change brings you back to zero. I hate going back to zero.
That’s part of the reason I like writing so much. It is something that I will always be doing. It creates assets, something that will pay me for my work rather than my time. As I get better at writing, those assets will become more valuable and scale. It is a long-term game that has exponential benefits (providing I actually work at it, get 1% better each day, and maybe get a little lucky.
That’s why I feel pressure to choose an alternative career and close on it. The sooner one starts compounding, the better. But at the same time I don’t want to. There is something freeing about having options, to be able to go where you want whenever you want, to have the skills to do whatever strikes your fancy that day.
I also understand that sometimes the best option is to change. Even if you’ve invested years into something, it is never too late to try again if your heart is not in it. The only good thing I learned in economics class (and poker) is the fallacy of sunk cost.
I’m taking this year to figure it out. Working hard so that I have those options, By August, we’ll see where I end up.