The journey to discovering your true passion

Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day concludes with the question, “What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” As someone who has always had diverse interests, answering this question was not easy. There have been times when I excelled at things I didn’t really care about, and when I struggled with things I loved.

The most popular career advice is to follow your passion, but what if you’re not sure what your passion is? For most people, passion isn’t found sitting under a tree waiting for the metaphorical apple to drop. Rather, it is discovered and nurtured through various micro-experiments designed to find out what needs to be worked on, with whom, and why.

Some people, like NYU professor Scott Galloway, reject the passion hypothesis altogether. They suggest that young professionals should follow their talent, that is, do something they are good at, gain some financial security and then explore other interests. That’s a reasonable suggestion, but it risks pushing young people toward a stable career but a less meaningful life. It can be challenging to work on things you’re not interested in, hoping things will just fall into place.

To be clear, Galloway’s suggestion is practical, but I think following your curiosity is a better choice than following your passion for talent. Curiosity creates engagement, which in turn fuels passion. Following that spark over a longer period of time creates expertise/talent that is often richly rewarded in the labor market.

That’s why patience is the unsung virtue and the missing piece of the puzzle when it comes to figuring out what you want to do with your life. David Epstein defines the ‘sampling period’ as a crucial stage in which we try a variety of activities and experiences before narrowing our focus. ‘Sampling periods are crucial, he argues, because they allow us to organically discover what we like to do and what we most want to succeed at. It is not secondary to the development of great artists – something that should be left out for the sake of an edge – it is crucial.”

There are many illustrious examples of people who benefited from a sampling period to put their curiosity and interests into perspective. Roger Federer dabbled in basketball, handball, skiing, wrestling, swimming, table tennis and skateboarding before taking up tennis. Richard Feynman tried locksmithing, art and percussion instruments such as bongo drums before focusing on quantum mechanics. Toni Morrison explored dancing, acting and teaching before becoming a celebrated author.

As a society, we can continue to champion child prodigies, but we must also normalize and celebrate them in their sampling periods. Having this implicit pressure to become the ideally suited boy or girl who has it all figured out almost always backfires. Designing your life and knowing what to do with it doesn’t come with a recipe manual. It must be an open-ended exploration, with sufficient checks and balances.

I started the “I Don’t Know What I Want to Do with My Life” Fellowship in Network Capital largely to promote the idea that most people don’t know what they want most of the time and that that’s okay. Guided experiments conducted with trusted colleagues and mentors can turn the specter of career confusion into a shared discovery of belief, talent, and purpose.

So if you don’t know where you’re going in life, you don’t have to wallow in despair. Find people you trust, share the epicenter of your confusion, and try things that pique your curiosity. You may not find what you’re looking for right away, but if you persevere, you’ll get there.

I have had a longer sampling period. My first degree was in mechanical engineering, after which I read liberal arts, got an MBA, worked in the corporate world for several years, started a company, sold part of it to a unicorn, turned to moral philosophy, and then enrolled in a PhD. I’m happy with where I am in my life, but that’s not because of professional milestones. I’m glad that the experiments I started in my teens continued into my thirties, and will probably continue for the rest of my life.

The one thing I did quite well was not approach my micro-experiments like a tourist: come, explore, take photos and move on. I treated my experiments with the same seriousness as my main goals. Even though some didn’t go as I expected, I still gained valuable insights along the way. This is how I made my way to my desired state of being.

Other people can help you along the way and they can be fellow passengers on your journey, but most of the work has to be done by you. If you don’t know where you’re going, that’s fine. Your eureka moment could be an experiment away. You owe it to yourself and to the rest of the world to keep trying. While you’re at it, remember to treat it as an adventure, not a chore. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.

Utkarsh Amitabh

CEO, Network Capital; Chevening Fellow, University of Oxford

Posts on X: @utkarsh_amitabh