One of the biggest lessons this transition reinforced for me is how growth actually works.<\/p>\n
People often say failure leads to growth. I don’t think that’s quite right.<\/p>\n
Failure is simply evidence that you’ve found the boundary of your current ability.<\/p>\n
And that’s where growth lives.<\/p>\n
If you never cross the boundary, how would you know where it is?<\/p>\n
In sports, the edge of your ability is where mistakes happen. In business, the edge of your ability is where uncertainty lives. In craftsmanship, the edge of your ability is where things go wrong.<\/p>\n
The goal shouldn’t be to avoid that boundary.<\/p>\n
The goal is to spend enough time there that it expands.<\/p>\n
I think many people unintentionally stay too far away from it. They avoid failure. They avoid discomfort. They avoid starting over. And while they still grow, they often grow slower than they could.<\/p>\n
Not because they’re incapable. Because they’re protecting themselves from finding the edge.<\/p>\n
I also believe many organizations unintentionally reward staying away from that boundary. Not because they want to suppress growth, but because mistakes are uncomfortable, visible, and difficult to manage. The most important lesson I learned as a manager was not that people need permission to fail. People need support when they fail. That’s what creates a truly safe environment. Not removing risk, but helping people grow in the vicinity of that boundary.<\/p>\n
Finding the Right Environment<\/b><\/b><\/p>\n
For a long time, I thought growth meant changing aspects of myself. More confident. More ambitious. More strategic. More technical. Maybe.<\/p>\n
But sometimes the answer is much simpler. Maybe your core values are not the problem.<\/p>\n
Maybe you’re simply in the wrong environment.<\/p>\n
You don’t need to become someone else. You need to find an environment where your strengths matter.<\/p>\n
That doesn’t necessarily mean changing careers. It doesn’t necessarily mean starting a business. It doesn’t even mean making a dramatic change.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it means changing teams. Sometimes it means changing companies. Sometimes it means changing your expectations. And sometimes it means making a leap. The point is not the size of the change. The point is being honest enough to recognize when something no longer fits.<\/p>\n
Today, I spend my days working on watches. I earn much less than I used to, know far less than I ultimately want to know, and still have more to learn than I have already learned. And I doubt myself regularly. I hope I never stop. A healthy amount of doubt keeps arrogance away and curiosity alive. Despite all those uncertainties, I feel more relaxed than I have in years. I have more time with my family, more time with my community, and more time in the parts of life that feel important. And perhaps most importantly, more time for ordinary moments.<\/p>\n
People talk a lot about quality time. I think quantity matters too. Being there for a random Tuesday dinner. Being there during the repetitive weeks. Being present for the ordinary moments that nobody photographs or posts online. Life is not made up entirely of highlights. Most of it is wonderfully ordinary. And I think those moments are underrated.<\/p>\n
If there\u2019s one thing I hope someone takes away from this story, it\u2019s not that they should quit their job, start a business, or become a watchmaker.<\/p>\n
The lesson is much simpler than that. Success and fit are not the same thing.<\/p>\n
An environment where one person thrives may slowly drain another, and that\u2019s okay. For me, the right environment, at least for now, turned out to be a workbench, a set of tweezers, and a mechanical watch. For someone else, it may be exactly where they already are.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know exactly where this journey will lead. Maybe I\u2019ll build the business I envision. Maybe I won\u2019t. Maybe I\u2019ll become the watchmaker I hope to become. Maybe I\u2019ll discover entirely new ambitions along the way. What I do know is that I\u2019m enjoying the journey.<\/p>\n
One realization helped me put the risk into perspective. If this doesn\u2019t work out, I can always go back to a version of the life I was living before. In other words, my worst-case scenario is remarkably similar to my reality of a year ago. That sounds a lot less frightening when you look at it that way.<\/p>\n
If this story resonates with you, I hope you\u2019ll take some time to reflect on your own situation. Not because you need to make a dramatic change, but because it may be worth asking yourself an honest question. Are you trying to become someone else, or are you looking for an environment where your strengths matter?<\/p>\n
Go to Part 1 of 3<\/a> or Go to Part 2 of 3<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" One of the biggest lessons this transition reinforced for me is how growth actually works. People often say failure leads to growth. I don’t think that’s quite right. Failure is simply evidence that you’ve found the boundary of your current ability. And that’s where growth lives. If you never cross the boundary, how would you […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-921","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-zonder-categorie-nl"],"yoast_head":"\n