Hello everyone,
I hope you are well, and enjoy spending time with close ones. Here we are, nearing the end of this very strange year.
As the year winds down, I’ve been reflecting on everything that’s happened—the highs, lows, the pivots, and the hard truths.
It’s been a year of mixed emotions for me, and maybe for you, too.
The first half of 2023 felt amazing, full of momentum and possibilities. I was excited and deeply inspired to go into the pathless path, as I shared that with you in my earlier newsletter.
But the second half since July?
Wow, it’s been a humbling experience. It forced me to take a hard look at my life and career.
What changed?
I’ve had conversations with a mentor I deeply respect who knew me more than 10 years ago, and their questions have challenged me in ways that shook me to the core.
“Why did you leave the PhD? Like, really?”
“Because I didn’t want to do the meaningless cranking the number game”. That reason didn’t fly for him.
I noticed myself wanting to flee the conversation. I felt like something was burning in my gut, so burning that I had to have to call someone nearby to stay centered. It was as if someone just snatched my entire spine and pulverized it.
I never subjected myself to this level of uncomfortable scrutiny before. What I learned in coaching is that It was the first time when I was fully present to the impact of my own action on other people. I was in denial, avoiding the uncomfortable truth that my action of leaving the PhD has pushed away someone I really cared about and respected.
Something gotta change.
Going through this changing and challenging period reminds me of what I wrote about in my own book, Not Being (to the point that I laugh-cry at myself for such precosciousness.. oh well)
As life involves continual change, it takes extreme effort to remain intact and untouched. In attempting to harden ourselves, occasionally through callousness and insensitivity, we create a barrier that helps protect us from pain, but also prevents us from experiencing joy. Eventually, though, there are experiences and encounters that pierce through this protective armor. As a result, the many layers of who we think we are and what we think is important can begin to fall away. What is left behind is an emptiness, a disorienting and uncomfortable void. As Aristotle is said to have postulated, “Nature abhors a vacuum.”
So, we start to replace what was lost, to fill in the space, with other things, with objectives and goals, knowledge, money, self-improvement projects, work, hobbies, artefacts, fame, beauty, authority, relationships.
As psychologist Robert Gunn writes in Journey to Emptiness: “The experience of not having peace, comfort and pleasure is against every natural impulse of body and mind. Every bit of common sense says it’s better to have something good than not to have it, whether that is a relationship, identity, status, power.”
Indeed, why would anyone want to drop a working relationship, identity, high status, power? Yet it happened to all of us.
Here are two lessons I am still learning from this rebuilding self-trust phase:
1. Letting go of an identity doesn’t mean losing your worth (even though it sure feels like that at times)
This one hit hard. Leaving the PhD was untethering myself from the role, status and stability that used to define me. I was building a new identity, the researcher, the PhD student, and it was an incomplete project.
That meant a lot of doubt.
The truth I keep rediscovering: Your worth isn't measured by credentials. It's built in small moments of showing up—both for yourself and others—even when (especially when) you don't feel "qualified enough."
But here’s what I’ve realized: worth isn’t tied to a title, a job, or a milestone, even if it feels that way. It comes from showing up and being present, even when I don’t feel like it.
For me, it’s looked like surrounding myself with friends, especially two kinds.
those who remind me of who I am and what I could be for them —even when I forget it myself (persistent, encouraging friend)
those hold me accountable to do what needs to be done (tough love)
2. Don’t trust your feelings in the moment—give it time.
I won’t sugarcoat it: there were days I regretted leaving the known, prestigious path. I’d wake up feeling like I’d made the wrong choice, wondering what was next and whether I’d thrown away stability of a known path for nothing.
Those ruminations aren’t real. But they feel so real at times.
I keep reminding myself: feelings weren’t the whole truth. I’ve learned that emotions in the moment are just that—temporary. Giving myself time to step back, reflect, and recalibrate helped me see that leaving was a gut decision rooted in something deeper.
It’s still unfolding, and I’m trusting that clarity will keep growing.
—
An Invitation for Those in Transition:
If you’re in a rebuilding phase—I want you to know this:
It’s okay to take your time. It’s okay to feel uncertain and to let your vision evolve as you go.
AND you must take the time to really do it.
Rebuilding isn’t about rushing to the next thing; it’s about giving yourself the space to find what truly matters. And if you’re considering a big transition—leaving a job, stepping into something new, like a new degree, or just rethinking what’s next—I’d love to support you.
I’m hosting 5 visioning conversations before 2024 ends to help you gain clarity and confidence in their next steps. These are one-on-one spaces to think, talk, and explore what’s possible for you in the year ahead.
If this speaks to you, let’s chat! Find a time on my calendar *here*.
If enough people, I may host something online next week too!
Stay Connected
I’d also love to hear what you’ve learned this year. What’s a hard conversation you had this year? How did that change you? Just hit reply—I’d love to connect and hear your story!
Here’s to being more intentional, taking actions, and stepping into a new year with accountability and momentum,
Khuyen
ps: a photo of mom visiting me from Thailand :-)