listen to emergence
When I started my sabbatical in Barcelona, the question about how to introduce myself was puzzling. “Engineer” was accurate but felt limiting. “Writer” felt grandiose and evoked images of a loner crafting gorgeous lawns of prose. It felt unattainable.
So in a twist of irony—or perhaps as a revealing truth—I wrote an essay to probe this question.
Eleven months have passed since I published that essay and it’s taken on a life of its own. While doomscrolling Twitter one evening, I found it—my polished internal monologue—sitting on several “How to sabbatical” Notion wikis. It wasn’t so shocking that other tech folk had found it, but I wasn’t prepared to see lawyers and doctors quote my work. Evidently, it struck a chord.
Well, I’ve been working on the sequel to that essay for a few months. It all started during one of my weekly writing sessions with. I was initially working on a piece called “the worth of the written word” that explored the disconnect between the tangible magic of creative writing—it can make you cry, hurt from happy tears, or duck for cover—yet when it comes to monetary value, it’s often penniless work.
During that writing session, I planned to extend that piece that day, but in a way that’s becoming very common, I felt something emergent wanting to come out. I didn’t know what it was. Or where it would take me. But this year has taught me to trust my gut on these things. So I opened a new page and started scribbling thoughts that eventually, through many, many revisions turned into a piece that I’m proud of. It’s still related to writing, but it asks more personal questions that wrecked havoc on my mind for months. And it’s written in an experimental format I’m excited to keep crafting.
I’m excited to share it with you before the end of this year. But before that, here’s the essay that started it all. For both newcomers and long-time subscribers, it’s a chance to ground ourselves before the reveal.