To Avoid “Career Drift” Forget the Map and Follow a Compass

The key to fulfillment is having direction rather than a destination

Most of us will spend about a third of our waking lives working, so it comes as no surprise that what we do for a living has a significant impact on how we feel — and ultimately how happy we are.

Millennials are dubbed “the purpose generation” because we’re throwing out the old parading of “work is just work” and replacing it with demands on a meaningful and fulfilling career. 63% of millennials reject the notion that making a profit is more important than making an impact, yet less than 30% feel engaged in their work.

Why is it that so many of us don’t find fulfilling work?

Is it because we’re all inherently lazy?

Spoiler alert: it’s not.

Following a map is not the best approach to a fulfilling career

Most of us love planning, especially if you’re a little type-A. It provides certainty and feels safe. It creates clarity around your goals. And most importantly, it allows your ego mind to get lost in dreams about the future (rather than the present, which it reliably tries to avoid).

But when we make plans that are too far out and are drawing maps for our 5 or 10-year career goals, we make one big, faulty assumption: that we won’t change between now and then.

I’m sure you already know that that’s not true. Who you were and what you wanted three years ago may be entirely different from where you are now, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We grow and evolve. Even if you’re aware of the predicament of personal change and take it into account when asking yourself, “what do I think I want in 3–5 years?”, you run into a problem: That’s an impossible question to answer.

When you’re making your first career decision, you’re still young and don’t even know what you want in the present. How could you possibly know what you’d want in the future?

Most of us don’t have the self-awareness at that age. We haven’t nearly explored enough to know ourselves that well. And we’re also not fortune tellers.

Instead, it’s easier to replace the original question with another one: What should I want in 3–5 years?

If we ask ourselves what we should want, we can rely on family, friends, and our environment (i.e., society) to fill in the blanks. We don’t need to know.

We may also ask ourselves another question (a personal favorite): if we don’t know, how can we pick something that will leave as many options as possible open?

And that’s how a large share of smart, creative, and ambitious high school grads end up enrolling in business, law, or medical degrees and eventually find themselves in jobs that may not align with who they are.

How I drifted into my MBA and found myself in misalignment

I was in camp “let’s choose something that leaves everything open” and decided to study business.

During my studies, nothing sparked my interest, so I decided to pursue consulting. I made a fabulous 5-year career plan:

• Get a Master’s degree at a top school that major consulting firms recruit from.
• Work at a Top 3 strategy consulting firm for a few years.
• Do an MBA or Ph.D.
• Move on to private equity or another high paying job.

And while I achieved every milestone on that list, I’m here writing about what not to do with your career, so I guess you know the ending of that story.

Maps, ships, islands & why not saying no is the same as saying yes

Gretchen Rubin frequently writes about “drift,” a concept she refers to as “the decision you’re making by not deciding.”

The first time I heard it, I was immediately aware that I was guilty of drift. Quite honestly, I realized I drifted for most of my career.

Dare I even say; it was planned drifting.

I had drawn a map, and the ship on which I was traveling was called drift.

I drifted from high school to business undergrad because I didn’t know what job I’d want and didn’t want to narrow my options. Uninspired during my business undergrad, I drifted into a Master’s, which was not necessary or particularly specialized, but at an elite institution that would help me get my desired job, and thus viewed as a great career move. I then drifted into strategy consulting, and even after over two years of being exposed to many different industries and topics, I drifted into an MBA that would continue to “leave all doors open” for me.

I didn’t realize that by stepping (and staying) on my drift boat, I said no to all the alternative paths: all the small islands I would pass and could have enjoyed very much. I delayed the decision to stop, get off, pick an island, take a breather, and reflect on what I actually wanted to do.

When your ship becomes your island

The MBA application for Columbia Business School asked us: “Where do you see yourself in 5–10 years?”

I made up a story because I was told it was better to have a fictional narrative than admit you don’t know. I didn’t realize that not being able to answer this question authentically was an indication that I was on the wrong ship. But I was following my map and was on the ship that would get me to my destination — so surely, everything had to be right?

It didn’t take long until I found myself in finance classes, bored out of my mind. I couldn’t care less about what I was learning, and I was at my worst mentally. How could that be? I had achieved everything on my 5-year plan. Shouldn’t I feel great?

It was then that I realized that I had never really taken the time to explore the islands around me. I had gotten so comfortable on my ship and being in motion that I didn’t question whether it would still take me to the right destination as the years went by.

At that point, I threw out my previous aspirations, got off my ship, and went island hopping: journalism classes, projects on sustainability and climate action, courses on health and nutrition, and more.

(I’m still island hopping if you were wondering. But I returned to my firm that had generously sponsored my MBA, and I’m now living the consequences of my indecision: I’m back on the ship, in golden handcuffs, but distracted and in awe by all the beautiful islands around me.)

Forget the map and follow a compass

Risk-averse, type-A me was ready to make another plan for a career that would be a better fit.

“I’m only 27 and still young, I can be somewhere completely different in five years, I just need to get on the right ship.”

But I quickly realized this would result in the same dilemma. Because again, no one knows what they want in five years. I don’t even know what I want next year. So instead, I committed to a different approach: throwing out my map and following a compass.

When you follow a compass, you only ever need to know one thing: the very next step.

You don’t need to be on a fast motorboat to get somewhere. You can take smaller boats and sail around islands. Or take a kayak. Or, you may even swim.

All you need to do is find something that feels right at this very moment.

Or, as AOC’s career coach Megan Hellerer says, that feels “warmer rather than colder.”

If you think about it, if you always pursue what feels “warmer,” you will feel warm and fuzzy all your life, independent of where you end up. And that’s the simple reason we don’t need maps and 5-year career plans:

If you always do what feels good in the moment, you will always feel good.

Unfortunately, that’s not how we’re programmed, as beautifully articulated by Esther Hicks:

“A happy life is just a string of happy moments. But most people don’t allow the happy moment, because they’re so busy trying to get a happy life.”

Choose direction over destination

I’m not saying you shouldn’t know where you’re going. I’m saying that rather than putting in the specific coordinates, you’ll only want to set the direction.

When things change, change course.

If we define our direction based on how we want to feel rather than who we want to be or what we want to do, we will remain even more flexible.

Keep your eyes open while you’re on your ship, and make sure to not only notice but also stop on those beautiful islands.

Who knows, maybe you’ll find one you’ll fall in love with and stay happily ever after. Or, just as likely, you may enjoy many different ones and continue island hopping for the rest of your life.

Because most importantly: Life doesn’t happen on your ship; fulfillment waits on all those tiny, seemingly insignificant islands.

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