As I head into the last two chapters of working through Authenblissity Reset (ABR) as a reader, I’m starting to think about my next project. One of my thoughts included the option to not embark on a next project. After lining my life with one project after another after another, I’ve been seriously considering this option.

But having a project on the go fulfills a very specific need within me, one that has never been met by connecting with people, working a paid job, or doing hobbies just for the fun of it. When I don’t have a project on the go, I feel like there’s something missing.

Of course, “project” is a broad term. In the past, this need has been fulfilled by my Etsy shop, my photography hobby-turned-business, my YouTube channel, and most recently, my book. I’ve been examining these past projects, trying to pinpoint exactly what about them makes me feel so good.

Here’s what I came up with.

• It feels good to figure out how to do something.

• It feels good to be working toward a defined goal.

• It feels good to put something out into the world.

There’s usually an entrepreneurial aspect to my projects — a sense that I’m building something from scratch, something that’s my own. I’m usually working toward something tangible in the form of a creative output, but also something intangible in the form of the confidence that comes from learning something new.

So who am I without my next project? I don’t think I’m the happiest or most fulfilled version of myself.

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I learned something about myself a couple of months ago, when I wrote about my experiment with using sleep as productive time. I was surprised by how comfortable I was with the experiment’s results being vague, anecdotal, and inconsistent. I was surprised by how intrigued I was with the experiment having no measurable criteria for “success.”

And as I’m working through the ABR work chapter this month, I decided shine the spotlight on inner work rather than paid work or creative work. I realized that I do inner work solely for the intrinsic rewards. I love the aha moments, understanding more about myself, trusting in my ability to make decisions that are fully aligned with my inner compass. The results of my inner work are vague, anecdotal, and inconsistent. There’s no measurable criteria for success. But it’s my favourite type of work. I feel at home in it.

I noticed myself falling into an old pattern as I approach the end of my yearlong reset — I’m thinking a lot about what to do next, afraid of the emptiness that comes with having a project-shaped hole in my heart.

But I also realized I don’t want to be endlessly striving. I don’t mind reaching toward something but I don’t want to strain. Part of me wants to take on a new project, but all of me wants to take things a little more lightly. I want to simply enjoy the process of being in a project, rather than rush toward an end point.

I’ve spent my entire life careening down a runway of goals and milestones. I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m curious what would happen if I stretch out time, move more slowly, let myself play.

So I’ve decided to give myself the next 10 years to follow my interests and curiosity. Maybe I’ll do one big project; maybe I’ll do a dozen tiny ones. Or maybe I’ll just read and do puzzles. Whatever I end up doing, I’ll only do it if I feel tons of sparkly energy around it. And even after I “decide” on what I’m doing next, I’m giving myself permission to change my mind or pivot.

Having a vast timeline serves two purposes: (1) It will provide ample space to explore and play, and (2) it will give me some much needed perspective when I inevitably get scared that I’m wasting my time. Chill, I can say to myself, it’s only been 6 months and you have 10 years.

In a sense, the timeline is my next project.

This month’s reflective questions

This blog post came out of my realization that I always need to have a project on the go.

What are the characteristics of your current relationship with your ideas and projects? Do you consistently need to have a project lined up each time you finish one? Do you jump from one project to the next without finishing any? Do you have lots of ideas but can’t quite seem to get started? How has this changed over time?

Take 5–10 minutes to journal on this to see what patterns and realizations come up for you. There’s no judgment here, just observation.

Until next time,