I asked everyone what a successful outcome for them would look like…and what they would focus on, if they were doing my job. I want to gain some understanding of the choices that were made before I was employed at the company, but not to make any judgements about those choices. I might not necessarily be the smartest engineer in the room, and that’s OK. I know it takes a mixture of skill sets to build a great product. One manager admitted to me she was itching to see results, but admired my ‘maturity’ to do thorough research first.

In the middle of my sketching hours, I don’t want to be worrying about whether I’ll be ready for my classroom prototype next month. Within a given day, action-oriented “butt-in-chair”-style advice does help; meta-thought is just distracting. But go too long without error correction, and you’ll misspend hours in the chair. ​ The rest of the day’s work becomes roughly deontological. I give myself permission to be satisfied with the day if I spent three focused hours sketching like I’d planned. ​ From time to time, I flip back into execution mode. It feels like an old friend. We say hello, dance for a while, and part ways smiling, just as it always was. Open-ended mode is more enigmatic, reserved—yet occasionally it sparks some moment so singular it lights up the whole year. Those moments don’t happen without the days spent together between those moments. I’m slowly learning to make the most of our quiet strolls.