Software Update
On deciding to change and the grief of growth
We’ve all been there: “Ping! Update available.”
To some, like my wife, this notification causes immense dread. You better believe she’ll be hanging on until the last possible moment before changing her entire system. If she could stay on the same old iOS forever, she’d be perfectly happy.
Aren’t we all like that in our own ways though? I know I can be.
We like what we like, and once we get used to how something is, the thought of that changing brings up a charcuterie board of feelings. Maybe you—like me—have wondered, “Why is change necessary? What could possibly happen? Am I even ready for that?”
The simple fact is: change is hard. It can be scary. Unknown, even. But you’ll know you’re ready when you know. Deep down we always do—even if we don’t acknowledge it.
I design software for a living. There comes a point when an update is no longer optional. Functionality is restricted. You must update if you want to continue.
You want the honest truth? Sometimes we need a nudge.
And sometimes? You need to be the one to do it.
I’ve found myself staring down big decisions in my life many times: moving from my suburban hometown to Nashville, pivoting in my career, and needing to make life-altering health changes. To help choose, I’ve created grocery lists of pros and cons, tapped on the shoulders of my closest people, and even given myself deadlines.
Still, deep down, I usually already know what’s best for me. I just need to get ready to take action. To do that, understanding what’s most important is pivotal. That’s exactly how Emily Freeman talks about it on her podcast, The Next Right Thing. Instead of viewing a list of pros and cons as all equal, we must assign them weight. She frames it around energy, asking, “What gives my life energy? What drains me?”
In software, building great products comes from determining the cost-benefit of features, prioritizing them on a roadmap, and almost always making tradeoffs to build the next iteration. Life is no different.
We must ask ourselves, “Is the cost of staying the same worth the effort change could bring?”
If we stay the same for too long, we run the risk of forming our own technical debt: the accumulated cost of future work resulting from choosing faster or easier solutions over more effective long-term ones.
And let’s be honest—who wants to do more work?
Earlier this year, my wife and I navigated a situation with similar tension: determining if she could quit her corporate job to start her own company. After months where our dinner conversations continually felt like we were on a therapist’s couch, we knew it wasn’t sustainable.
We went through an all-too-familiar decision-making process: battling the anxieties of “Is this the right time? Could we really do that? Or worse—what would they think?”
As strong as those feelings were, it came down to a stronger gut feeling. For her, it was simple as, “This can’t continue as-is. I’m ready to do something about it.”
Thus, her content marketing business was born.
At the end of the day, the cost of staying in a draining job wasn’t worth the upside of working for herself (flexibility, variety, etc.) even if it meant she’d need to trade “job security” for the hope of having the life she wanted.
Changes like that bring a lot of joy. But sometimes, growth introduces sadness too. After all, it’s leaving something behind—even if it is for something better.
This issue’s poem started by reflecting on how much I’ve changed over the years, and wanting people who are no longer in my life, to be able to see that.
So if you’re pondering change, the best part is…
It’s ready whenever you are.
Decide and don’t look back.
The people who matter will be there to cheer you on every step of the way. They’ll celebrate your newness.
—Sam
Note: I fully recognize that change is complex, and for many people, it isn’t always accessible due to circumstances beyond their control.
Software Update
My update is available
But I’m not ready
Remind me tomorrow
Like I haven’t already
Then, one last push
Has me thinking
Maybe just maybe freeing up space
Isn’t all that scary
Now, no progress left remaining
’Til critical changes release
Its requirement to be compatible
With anything other than:
The confidence to speak up
Bravery to be known
Security even in failure
And trust in my performance
Operating better than before
But sometimes—
I just wish
You knew this version of me