Juggling Balls, Missing the Point
I also remember a time when I was doing many things at once. I was full of energy, curiosity, and excitement. I felt at my peak, deeply in love with the work. My boss, the CTO at the time, once asked if I was sure about taking on another task. “Absolutely,” I said immediately. “I’ve still got capacity.”
What I didn’t realize was that by doing many things, I wasn’t truly effective at any of them. Yes, I was pitching ideas, drafting project plans, sketching org structures. It was a fantastic way to learn, but it also burned me out—not from the volume of work, but from the weight of expectations I’d tied to each opportunity.
To me, it felt natural: if I pitched an idea, it would be adopted. If I was asked to prepare a hiring plan, it was an easy sell. I thought my energy and enthusiasm were enough.
That’s not how it works. Having the idea isn’t enough. Being smart and excited isn’t enough. Timing matters. The audience matters. The pitch matters.
I ended up disappointed in some of these occasions.
Now, I see those chapters not as a failure, but as a necessary detour. It was the raw, unrefined version of the drive I still value. I still love being in the trenches—the octopus with its arms in a dozen problems—but now I ask a question my younger self didn’t: are these the trenches, or just a trench? Is this where the battle for impact is actually being fought?
My biggest lesson from that experience—and others like it—was to relearn focus. Not every battle is worth fighting, and certainly not all at once. Superman doesn’t exist, and he is definitely not me. I wasn’t going to save anyone until I saved myself the struggle of constant juggling.
It’s the same discipline I try to apply today: the constant editing of my own and my team’s enthusiasm. Saying “yes, but later” or “not this” is now a core part of the job. It’s less fun in the moment than a euphoric “yes,” but it’s the only way to ensure that our busyness has a direction, and that our energy is spent not just wisely, but well.
Looking back, juggling all those balls was entertaining. It felt rewarding in the moment. But overall, it wasn’t effective. It distracted me from asking the right questions, from focusing on the right problems, and from maximizing what truly mattered.