Hey, Reader —
The new year always brings big energy. But this time, I’m hearing something quieter: fatigue. Not burnout exactly, just the weight of staying “on” all the time. Like there’s always something to respond to, keep up with, or post to stay visible.
None of these activities is wrong. But they add up.
Ambition carries a cost, not just in effort but in attention. And when so much of that attention goes to anticipating a response, clarity doesn’t come from finding better answers. It comes from deciding what no longer gets one.
Navigating this tension is tricky because much of what pulls at our attention seems reasonable. New projects. Invitations and ideas. Platforms that reward responsiveness (while quietly punishing silence).
Over time, it trains a habit: if something appears, it deserves consideration. That habit is exhausting.
It’s not because we’re doing the wrong work. Instead, we’re doing too much adjacent work.
Responding. Commenting. Adjusting. Recalibrating. Staying open to possibilities rather than being committed to a direction.
This is where clarity gets misunderstood. We treat it like a missing answer, something we’ll uncover if we think hard enough or gather enough input. But for many solo workers the problem isn’t uncertainty. It’s over-inclusion.
Every open loop carries weight. Every maybe competes with what’s already chosen. And when ambition remains undefined, it spreads everywhere.
Exclusion isn’t a failure of ambition. It’s how ambition becomes precise. Calm rather than forceful. Deliberate rather than reactive. It’s the decision to stop explaining, stop engaging, stop optimizing parts of the work that no longer earn your attention.
Clarity doesn’t arrive all at once. It sharpens as you withdraw effort from what no longer fits and notice what finally has room to speak.
At the start of a new year, it’s tempting to look for clarity by adding something new: plans, commitments, or systems to manage what already feels full.
But clarity rarely comes from accumulation. It comes from release. From noticing which conversations you can exit. Which expectations you can drop. Which forms of visibility no longer serve the work you care about most.
Ambition doesn’t disappear when you narrow it. It concentrates.
What changes is the cost. Less noise. Fewer open loops. More room for the kind of thinking that doesn’t happen on demand.
If clarity feels elusive right now, the question may not be what you’re missing. It may be what you’re still responding to out of habit.
Sometimes the clearest move at the start of a year isn’t deciding what to pursue next but deciding what you’re finally done engaging with.
Your Clarity-Through-Subtraction Exercise
Block off 30 quiet minutes this week. No input. No planning. Just a pen, a notebook, and this question:
What am I still responding to out of habit?
Write down anything that surfaces: platforms, conversations, expectations, roles, routines. You don’t have to make a big decision right away. Just notice what feels heavy, outdated, or automatic.
Then, circle one thing you're ready to stop engaging with. Not forever, maybe. Just for now. Let clarity start there. Welcome to your new year.
Here are three more items from my inbox to share with you this week:
A Small Decision That’s Saved Millions of Frustrated Drivers at the Gas Station
This Wall Street Journal story (gift link) traces the surprisingly human origin of one of the most useful features in modern cars. The Moylan Arrow is the tiny triangle on the dashboard fuel gauge that indicates which side the car’s fuel door is on. It’s a reminder that progress isn’t always about grand reinvention. Sometimes it’s about noticing a friction point everyone accepts and removing it with a single, thoughtful choice. In this case, that small decision became an industry standard.
A Library Built on Taste
In The Great Library, Austin-based writer Nathan Baugh shares a carefully curated list of 21 storytelling resources he’s gathered over time. What makes it valuable isn’t just the volume, it’s the judgment behind what’s included and what’s left out. This is curation as craft: a reminder that strong storytelling isn’t about chasing every technique, but about learning from sources that have earned their place on the shelf. Bonus: readers add their own favorite resources in the comments.
A Case for Looking Back Carefully
Modern Illustration is a beautifully curated archive of commercial illustration from roughly 1950–1975, drawn from the personal collection of illustrator Zara Picken. Rather than chasing trends, the project preserves print artifacts of mid-20th-century commercial art. It spotlights clarity, restraint, and craft and is a reminder that studying what has endured can sharpen our sense of what’s worth making (and keeping) now.
Until next week: Stay small. Play big.
Terri
P.S. When you’re ready for more, here are a few resources from the Solo Business School:
Want to send a question or comment? Please do — I read (and respond to) my email.
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Authority By Design is a registered trademark, and Content Velocity and Working Solo are trademarks, of Make International LLC. Issue #096.
