Stop Waiting for Clarity. You Need Momentum.

“It’s giving scientology. It’s giving jargon. No one knows what clarity means.”

I wrote a whole page of copy about the virtues of clarity and asked a friend for critical feedback. She did not miss a beat before telling me it read like bullsh*t.

I’ve been trying to describe what it feels like to drop in, tune in to yourself, trust your gut. What it means when all the miasma of searching and thinking clicks into place and boom - you’re ready for action.

Like Magic.

In the nineties, we’d go to the mall and stop by the poster kiosk to stare at Magic Eye1 posters. You’d stare and stare, try a soft focus, maybe cross your eyes a little, then

BOOM

A fishtank.

The mess becomes order. The 2D image goes 3D and there’s depth, a whole landscape to explore. You get it. You see it all so clearly.

Sometimes you’d be staring at that dang mess forever before it clicked, and there’s this euphoria, feeling like you’ve opened the door to a magic world.

That’s what I was grasping for.

But it’s a terrible metaphor. First, once the Magic Eye reveals its glorious hidden image, after the brief thrill of achievement, you start to get a headache.

Then you blink and it’s gone.

Then I read Andrea Clarke’s excellent essay on the concept of drift. Her father is a navigator. She says “if you set off on a journey and you drift even one degree off course .. over time, you’ll end up a thousand miles off track.. . Drift is what happens when we’re clear on what we want to exit —the job, the relationship, the version of ourselves that we’ve outgrown—but we postpone the decision to move.2

Clarity is one thing. Movement is another. Change only happens when we start moving.

I applied for grad school in 2020 during lockdown. At the time, I rationalized it as “something fun to do while I can’t travel.” Looking back, lockdown put a sudden and forceful hard stop to my drift. I already knew I wanted to move, but until the world forced me to stop, I kept kicking that decision into the nebulous future.

My career pivot, at this point, is six years in the making. I became a therapist, reworked my existing business, went through a whole meandering burnout period, and now am building a whole new business. It’s been one step after another. It wasn’t a 30-second Magic Eye reveal. It was a long, messy process of taking small steps forward while still figuring things out.

Deciding to try grad school didn’t come after a lightning bolt of realization. In fact, up until I actually walked into the classroom, I wasn’t even sure I’d go through with it. Then I thought I’d go to school but not practice. The list of things I didn’t think I would actually do goes on — but the point is that the act of applying created the momentum. Momentum is what helps us gain insight over time.

If you’ve been circling a major pivot, you don’t need to stare at the wall until a clear picture magically appears. Waiting for clarity is a trap. You have to go out and find clarity.

What you need is a catalyst to kick yourself into a new orbit. Motion comes first; insight follows.

I texted my friend, “It’s not clarity! It’s Motion!”3

There’s this quote by Jung4:

You’ve done the research.

You don’t need another self-help book, another personality assessment, or six more months to “figure yourself out.”

When I went through grad school, the most valuable part wasn’t just the coursework—it was doing the entire journey alongside a cohort of twenty people going in the exact same direction. We had community, built-in accountability, and shared momentum.

Maybe what you need is a cohort.

I’m launching a new program called The Catalyst Cohort, and it kicks off September 15. It’s built specifically for those who have done the research, who are tired of drifting, and who are ready to start moving.

Six weeks, six to eight people, live weekly sessions and community accountability.

I hope you’ll check it out, here.