Quiet Clarity is a 2x/week newsletter and podcast for people who want to build a life of presence, depth, and deliberate intention.
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The hardest part about being in your twenties is that you don't really know what direction to take.
Our whole life, we've been told what to do — school, grades, major, job.
But once we arrive in our twenties, that path starts to fade.
Suddenly, no one is guiding us anymore, and we're left wondering: What do I actually want?
We look around and realize our current situation might just be the product of what others told us to do.
The roadmap disappears, and for the first time, we have to make decisions that really matter.
Is this overwhelming freedom actually the gift we've been waiting for?
Where It Showed Up in My Life
I felt this deeply in college.
I picked a major because it was supposed to be "safe" and pay well.
But I never asked myself: Do I even like this?
Slowly, I began exploring other things — not to make a career, just out of curiosity.
I made weird videos of basketball trick shots in my bathroom.
It felt random and embarrassing, but something about it lit me up.
That small spark eventually led me to building a content agency.
What the Wisdom Reveals
There's an old Zen story about a young monk who approaches his master.
"Master, I feel lost. Everyone else seems to know their path, but I have no direction."
The master hands him an empty bowl and says, "Fill this with water from the river."
The monk goes to the river and fills the bowl, but on the way back, he trips and spills it all.
Frustrated, he returns to fill it again. This time he walks more carefully, but a bird startles him and he spills it again.
On the third attempt, he moves even more slowly, protecting the water, but the sun is so hot that by the time he returns, half has evaporated.
"Master, I've failed three times. I can't even carry water properly."
The master smiles. "But now you know three ways that don't work. And you discovered them not by thinking, but by walking."
"The path isn't revealed by standing still and waiting for directions. It's discovered by moving, spilling, learning, and moving again."
The monk realizes that everyone who seems to "know their path" once stood where he stands now.
They didn't receive a perfect map — they just started walking and learned as they went.
Some spilled their water going too fast, others went too slow.
But each failure taught them something about their own way.
The path forms beneath your feet as you walk, not before.
How I'm Trying to Live Now
What if I stopped waiting for clarity and started creating it through action?
After years of trying random things that excited me, here's what I've learned:
Try everything that sparks curiosity, even if it seems weird or pointless.
You won't figure out your direction by thinking about it — you need to explore and watch what stirs your soul.
That video passion that seemed ridiculous? It became my career.
But the clarity came only after years of following small sparks.
True direction comes from doing what feels deeply aligned with you.
Not "I'm choosing me" with a chip on your shoulder, but "ah… this is me" with quiet clarity.
Sometimes I imagine it's my last day on earth and ask: How would I spend it? Who would I talk to? What would suddenly feel important?
Then I try to make space for those things now, even while building what sustains me.
Our twenties are where our future selves are born — not by figuring it all out, but by beginning.
