Writing, Riffs and Relationships

Conversation is the unit of content.

February 26

Word Count: 408
Read Time: 2 minutes

The smaller the range of options available to us, the less choice we have.

Less choice isn’t always a good thing. More choice isn’t always a bad thing. But there are circumstances where we want to narrow down our choices…

Because forcing ourselves to contually pick from an endless buffet is a surefire way to suffer.

Early in our journey, it makes sense to explore.

When we’re standing at the trailhead and examining the options before us – with no real knowledge of what lies ahead, or the relative strengths and weaknesses of each choice – then it’s spending some time to figure out what’s waiting for us.

There’s an overhead involved in this process. But early on, that’s a price worth paying.

One path could be twice as good as another.

Others could be 10 times or 100 times better than the standard.

Unless we explore, how will we ever find them?

Answer: we won’t. Not unless we happen to stumble across them.

We can afford to jump between approaches before we’ve really begun. The switching cost associated with changing tack is almost non-existent – all we “lose” is the time we’ve spent testing alternatives.

But the price isn’t always so low.

Once we’ve started down the path, we can’t always afford to turn at a moment’s notice.

As we progress, we build up speed. We gain momentum. We accumulate baggage along the way.

All of these things make the cost of reversing our course and selecting a new trail all the more expensive.

The closer we get to Done, the less time we should spend exploring other ways of reaching our goal.

That said, there’s always room for adaptation.

Wholesale changes to our path might incur more expense than we’re willing to bear. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make changes to improve our situation.

Sometimes, the sublest of tweaks can be all we need.

Our duty transforms from exploration to optimisation.

Optimisation is the process of refining what we’re doing.

Rather than throwing it all away and starting again, we take it in hand and gently work it into a better shape:

One that’s more suited for the task before us.

Change doesn’t always have to be radical.

Thinking that better outcomes only spring from a clean slate limits us to two subpar choices:

Content ourselves with our lot, or begin the process anew.

There’s a middle ground. One where less might change, but everything can shift.