Unstuck
Posted: April 8, 2025 Filed under: Diary, Musing Comments Off on UnstuckPM-ing sometimes can be tiring. I have been circling in the same movement.
The wait for strategic clarity is a joke. It never lands. Just empty torrents from upstairs who prefer ambiguity over accountability.
So we drown. Firefighting the daily chaos their vagueness spawns, chasing the phantom of inbox zero, rewriting the same meaningless docs over and over because no one will make a goddamn call.
This isn’t “proactive shaping.” It’s sheer survival.
Sure, anyone can follow a clear plan – that’s the easy part.
But we’re forced to conjure one out of thin air because leadership won’t, or can’t. We learn to stop asking “What’s the direction?” – it’s a wasted question seeking clarity that never arrives.
Instead, we grit our teeth, build the damn raft ourselves, and shove it out saying, “Here. I mapped the chaos you’re ignoring. Poke holes, tear it down, do something – just give us a bearing so we can stop drowning.“
It bleeds you dry. It’s exhausting, thankless work.
Carrying the weight of indecision, constantly course-correcting, buried under tactical emergencies while the strategy remains a ghost. Less product leadership, more glorified chaos janitor.
Understandably, it’s normal to feel stuck sometimes.
I need courage to leverage knowledge and experience to make decisions in an uncertain world. Doing nothing and hoping for direction is a terrible, terrible strategy.
Limits
Posted: November 1, 2024 Filed under: Diary Comments Off on LimitsI remember 2017 vividly. It was the year that taught me what being human truly means. Time is relentless, marching forward without pause. Reality hit me hard – we all have limits.
Looking back at my younger self in 2004 and 2014, I smile at my naive enthusiasm. Rest seemed like a weakness then. I was that person who believed in pushing boundaries without breaks. The world was mine to conquer.
Let me share something I’ve never told many people: I once had a panic attack ten minutes before a major presentation. My heart raced, hands trembled, and breath shortened. In that moment, all my preparation, all my confidence, melted away. Standing in the bathroom, staring at my reflection, I realized how fragile our minds can be despite our best preparations.
These moments of vulnerability teach us more than success ever could. Some days, giving 0% is all you can manage. The younger me would stay awake for three days straight, fueled by ambition and coffee. What a fool I was. Those marathon sessions came with a price – days of mental fog and exhaustion.
Your body whispers before it screams. I learned to listen to those whispers. Now, in my older years, wisdom has finally settled in. My body isn’t just a vehicle for my ambitions. I’ve learned to celebrate small victories, understanding that the journey matters more than the destination.
Goals still drive me, but they don’t consume me. Each tiny step forward deserves recognition. Sometimes, retreating isn’t defeat – it’s strategy. You don’t have to win every single battle.
Here in 2024, I’m still a student of life. Each day brings new lessons. My spiritual journey has deepened, and I understand now that growth isn’t always visible. The greatest lesson? Being human means embracing both strength and weakness.
We’re not machines. We’re wonderfully imperfect beings, learning as we go. And that’s perfectly okay.
