Hey there,

How have you been?

Here’s what I have for you this week:

• One big thing. Finding a job in your 20s was probably a comedy of cluelessness. But now, you have what I call career capital. The question is: What will you do with it?

• You have to check this out. This week stars Steve Jobs, James Clear, and Leonardo da Vinci. That’s some heady company Mr. Clear.

• Tools & Tech. How you can blabber into your phone like a madman, effectively.

Let’s get into it…

1️⃣ ONE BIG THING

Transferring career capital.

Do you remember trying to find a job in your 20s?

I remember sitting by a cold window at the Boulder Bookstore on Pearl Street.

I sipped my third free refill. Hazelnut.

I started my third scan of the Denver Post classifieds.

The few ads that caught my eye led with manipulative hooks such as "entrepreneurial-minded only" or "environmentally-minded preferred." 

Oh, that could be me! Hang on, what is the actual work? These were always awful sales jobs. Honey-coated turds in job ad form. 1990s clickbait.

If you were like me, the core problem was being spectaculary clueless about what you actually wanted to do.

My perception of career options resembled a narrow hallway with black-and-white wall signs reading: teacher, doctor, fireman, accountant.

The hallway had no guides. I needed an usher with a flashlight and a soft sweater to guide me to my seat.

No direction. No guides. No professional network.

A resume flexing in 13-point font to fill two-thirds of a page.

My just-opened career capital account showed a balance of nil. I had no juice.

What I did have was needs and wants.

I needed money. Fast.

More than that, I wanted prestige. I wanted to play the game. I wanted a blue button-down. A business card. To be dispatched to an urgent client meeting. To check into a hotel and earn hotel points.

  *  *  *

The blind mole rat in the corner office.

Blind mole rats use the Earth's magnetic field as an internal compass to update their position and avoid getting lost on long journeys.

I think that describes how my mole-rat ass made it this far.

Through some combination of instincts, luck, and help from others, I never got too lost on my long career journey. It was rewarding. I had fun. I made great friends. I stayed in some sweet hotels.

But somewhere along the way, running through the mole rat maze trying to get to the cheese felt more like running in a hamster wheel.

I don’t know if it was turning 50—or COIVD—but I realized:

I don’t want to play the game anymore.

I don't want to tell anyone on LinkedIn I'm humbled to embark on a new journey.

I don't want to attend the meeting that some rando added to my calendar without asking, hosing my afternoon.

I don’t want to change my painting.

  *  *  *

When you reach a crossroads, you take stock.

It turns out that the whole time I was gathering those sweet hotel points, I was also making deposits into my career capital account.

Might this be the most valuable account you have?

Have a look at the assets you have in there:

• You have learned a lot. And probably about niche topics.

• You have deep skills and technical competency (probably also quite niche).

• You can see patterns. You can see around corners. You connect the dots.

• You boosted your emotional intelligence score, probably via painful experiences.

• You have a network of peers (and some mentors).

If you're keeping score: Your career capital account balance was nil in your 20s. By your 40s and 50s, you had matured, and so had this account.

Reinvesting career capital.

So, what should we do with these assets?

There are a few broad options:

1. Close the account. Retire and enjoy lawn chairs and road trips—no more work.

2. Stay the course. Continue in your job. Keep making career capital deposits without ever withdrawing.

3. First this, then that. Leave your current job. Then, withdraw the assets from your career capital account and reinvest them doing something different (i.e., use the knowledge you have accumulated in a new way).

4. In parallel. Continue in your job. At the same time, withdraw career capital to start doing something different.

Choosing between these options brings us back to needs and wants.

In my 20s, I needed money. And I wanted prestige. I wanted to play the game.

Today, I still need money!

However, my wants have changed.

  *  *  *

I want to do something meaningful with my time.

I want that burst-out-of-bed, fired-up-to-start-working feeling that comes from having a purpose.

Here’s why:

• My career capital account is valuable. There’s some cool stuff in there I want to reinvest.

• Time is my most valuable asset. This is the one account that always ends with a zero balance. Since I cannot slow down my spend rate, I want to spend time on things that matter.

• My brain still works😆. Its strengths are changing, but I want to use its remaining capacity wisely.

I want to reinvest my career capital into a new account: the purpose and meaning account.

This is why I started Second Act Creator.

You can shape your second act around meaning.

You don’t have to gut it out for fifteen more years in an increasingly meaningless job.

You don't have to check out altogether.

Every Sunday, I aim to give you new ways to think about your second act, frameworks to figure out precisely what you want to do, and strategies and tactics to reinvest your career capital in meaningful ways.

That’s all for this week.

I hope you found this valuable. Feel free to share it with anyone that needs it.

Enjoy your Sunday,