Yesterday, I wrote about fractals and the edge where interesting work often sits. The area that feels unfinished, uncomfortable, and hard to explain to others. That edge is more important than we usually realize. Shout out, again, to Paul Graham and his defining essay, How to do Great Work. Today, I want to talk about what can happen if you stay there.
For much of our early lives, we learn to make plans.
Sensible plans. Linear plans. Plans that sound good when spoken aloud. We are rewarded for clarity and confidence, even when those qualities arrive too early.
Over time, many people discover something unsettling. The most meaningful work they do often isn’t part of their original plan. It arrives quietly, sometimes inconveniently, and often before they feel ready.
The poet David Whyte describes this as the invitational identity. The idea that our lives are shaped not only by what we pursue but also by what calls us. Beneath our resumes and ambitions, there’s a deeper current encouraging us to step into something greater than our own intentions.
Whyte has a line I return to often:
What you can plan is too small for you to live.
That sentence resonates differently depending on where you are in life. Early on, it might seem abstract or even irresponsible. Later, it can bring relief – a recognition that the unease you feel isn’t a sign of poor planning but a warning signal.
This way of thinking is what led me to start my RELEVANCE project. I don’t believe relevance is something you achieve and then hold onto. I think it’s something you practice. It appears when you pay attention to what’s emerging and stay honest about what keeps recurring. If you listen long enough, relevance has a way of finding you.
The signal usually first appears as fascination.
Something you keep noticing. Something you read about late at night. Something you cannot quite let go of, even when it does not fit neatly into your role or title.
At first, you tell yourself it is just curiosity. Then you tell yourself it is impractical. Eventually, if you are honest, you realize it is persistent.
This is where many people turn away.
They get busy. They rationalize. They explain to themselves why now is not the right time. They mistake responsibility for avoidance. I have done this more than once.
But occasionally, someone does something different. They stop trying to make the invitation go away.
They don’t act on it right away, but they listen. They stay close and let it shape them. Over time, the work becomes clearer, along with the responsibility that comes with noticing it.
This is the difficult part.
Once you recognize an invitation, you’re no longer neutral. You may still decline, but you can’t pretend you didn’t hear it.
Tomorrow, I want to discuss what occurs when that invitation becomes specific. When curiosity and conscience stop circling and start to converge. When work no longer feels abstract or aspirational but concrete and physical. When you realize that what has been calling you is not just an idea but a problem that needs to be named.
That’s often the moment when work stops feeling like a career choice and starts feeling like a responsibility.
Stay Whole Tuesday.
More tomorrow.
