Gap year diary - 5 things I learnt in the first 90 days

I am on a gap year in 2021 to explore how I want to spend my 40s and craft my life 2.0.

In my earlier updates, I shared what I learnt from doing nothing for the first 2 weeks of the gap year, my realization to have presence (versus productivity) as the foundation for life 2.0 and life experiments I kicked off to gain presence (https://www.dhirubhai.net/pulse/gap-year-diary-21-day-phone-deprivation-experiment-sameer-srivastav/)

This update is about what I have learnt in the first 90 days of my gap year.

My first 90 days turned out differently than what I expected. I had planned to immerse myself in one life theme each month with a 70-20-10 learning approach, reflect, learn, and then move on to the next theme — neat plans, messy reality. The first 90 days turned out to be a set of experiments to build presence – 21-day phone deprivation, morning pages, serendipity hours, no news. In parallel, I finished a post-graduate diploma course, spent many blissful hours with kids, reading, writing, investing, hiking, life chats with new and old friends and often, just did nothing. Here are my top 5 learnings.

1) It will never be done. Is getting done even the objective? - Even a gap year has finite time, and there is never enough time to do everything one wants to do. My no phone/ news experiment made me realise how much of what automatically fills my life is just noise. Switching off the noise creates the space to fill life with things I care about right now, whether kids, friends, self-growth etc. However, it is easy to feel overwhelmed in these areas as well. There is always more to learn or things to do. When are you ever done being a parent? Or being healthy? Or learning about yourself? Each new insight informs yet also opens my eyes to how much there is still to know. Getting done seems not even the right objective in these life areas. Is it instead whether I am learning? Am I growing? Am I busy being born?

He not busy being born is busy dying (Bob Dylan)

2) Follow my curiosity, not a plan – If getting done is not the right objective in key life areas, what guides my choices of how I spend time in these areas? I am finding it helpful to follow my curiosity around 'what is the next question/ problem to solve?'. The question itself is usually different on day one versus week 3. Day one usually starts with abstract intentions (good parenting, life plan etc.). Then life presents specific realities (unruly kids, endless to-do list even during gap year). Ideas rubbed against reality spark curiosity to better understand the nature of things. For example, as my abstract quest to become a better parent collides with a messy everyday life, it sparks curiosity about the alternate questions I should be asking instead - 'Why is it so difficult to look at the world through a kid's eyes? What does it take to understand and react to a kid's feelings versus words?' etc. The same holds in our quest to define our identity - the curiosity of becoming versus the stasis of being.

Keep your identity small. The more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you (Paul Graham)

3) There are no short cuts in the learning process. The process is crucial to the outcome - One learning leads to another in life if we can have time and presence to let the journey unfold. E.g., I am currently fascinated with the rarity and importance of deep work (Cal Newport) in our lives. How did I stumble on this concept? In 1st week of the gap year, my curiosity with productivity obsession led me to do nothing for two weeks. In the pause, I realised the importance of presence versus productivity. As I kicked off experiments to build presence, I realised the pervasive digital distraction and the rarely understood impact of technology in my life. Curious to find a way out, I came across the concept of deep work. The journey had built the conviction that it was a critical problem to solve, so I felt ready to embrace it by the time I arrived there. The process seems crucial to the outcome.

All truths wait in all things. They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it (Walt Whitman)

4) The most important conversations might be the ones we never have time for – In the last few months, I loved having honest, raw chats with friends and strangers who reached out. Heart of the conversation - How to lead a life in which we run our own race, at our own pace? As we discuss foundational areas, the first one is usually the financials – a necessary yet insufficient condition. Probing deeper, we find the tyranny of unspoken intangibles – can my spouse and family understand my disquiet amid an otherwise successful life? Am I clear on my definition of success? Am I being a good parent? Who I will be if not what I am today? Many of us have never really acknowledged these glimpses of disquiet to ourselves or discussed with anyone close. Where is the time? And with whom to discuss it without feeling judged? Ambition in a career feels legitimate. But ambition in life to live it fully seems frighteningly self-indulgent. So, we march on, winging our way through life, tossing in self-deprecating humour about our' first world problems' while secretly hoping to answer life questions of the 30s/ 40s with tools of the 20s. Yet once basic survival needs are met, is any problem greater or lesser? It might be helpful to remind ourselves to be gentle to our yearnings and inner battles.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle (Plato)

5) Origin of our questions contains clues to self-discovery - I initially searched for answers (e.g., the best way to organise a productive schedule for my life 2.0). During the search, I became aware of questions I had taken for granted earlier (e.g., why to stay productive). As life keeps throwing new and interesting questions (e.g., ambition versus contentment, systems versus goals), I am increasingly curious to understand these questions' origin. Where do our questions come from? Why do some questions appeal intellectually yet fail to trigger any action, whereas others tempt and torment us such that acting to find answers feels inevitable? The origin story of these questions might hold clues to the untangled knots in our lives. Parts of our lives wherein we still seek clarity. The clarity that can sit easily within us emotionally and not just intellectually. Understanding the origin of our questions is our pathway to self-discovery. 

Friends sometimes ask me, 'What's next?' (i.e. when are you back in real life;) I don't know the answer, and honestly, it increasingly seems beside the point to me. The question instead is whether I am engaging fully with 'What's now'. If I can do that consistently, next will take care of itself – for the rest of the gap year and life.

When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it (Rumi, 13th century Persian poet)

I would love to hear from you if something strikes a chord or if you would like to share any personal learnings, experience and tips.

If you would like to get gap year updates directly into your inbox, you can sign up here,

https://gapyearat40.ck.page/c51c38d858

Cheers,

Sameer Srivastav