In considering the many ways we can expand our fields, we’ve talked about looking more closely at the opportunities around us. We’ve also talked about looking inward at the way we think, the way we see, and the way we define what we perceive. But what happens when we look inside and outside, and the field itself looks unfamiliar? What happens when the field has shifted altogether?
When a major part of life changes, our first instinct is often to measure everything that is happening against what used to be true. We wonder: How do we get back to what we considered normal? How do we replace what we believe we’ve lost? How do we become again what we have always been? If we lose something we strongly identified with, it can seem as though our field has shrunk. But often, it hasn’t shrunk at all.
It has simply shifted. But we keep trying to see the things that used to exist in our old field.
Let’s stop talking philosophically for a moment and talk practically. Many things can shift our fields and change the landscape around us. Suppose we retire. Suppose our children move out of the house. Suppose we get divorced. Our identity as a working person, a parent, or a spouse has suddenly shifted. Not surprisingly, we cling to that identity and to the things that supported and surrounded it. The circumstances of our lives have changed, but we keep looking at what those circumstances used to be and at the identity that was tied to them.
In my last essay, I talked about how my world expanded when I allowed a little help into the house. As a full-time caregiver, my world had shrunk into work, taking care of my mom, and taking care of the house. I was simply too tired for many of the creative impulses I had once followed. But when I got those three hours a week, my external field shifted a little. After I took care of the basic needs I could manage in those three hours, I suddenly had the ability to look beyond them.
I still didn’t have the energy for major projects like oil painting, sculpting, or the kinds of creative work I had done before. But I started to notice again. I started to look at the world the way I used to. And I found different ways of expressing what I saw through videos, writing, and poetry. Those things reignited my creative energy and sent it scurrying in a different direction.
I have always loved to write, but who could have imagined that I would become a children’s book author?
I have always loved creating art with my hands, but who would have imagined that I would begin filming with a video camera, learning to edit with digital tools, and become a YouTuber?
I had always been interested in technology, especially in relation to my professional work. I never imagined I would step into the world of artificial intelligence and begin exploring what it means to live in a world where AI is becoming part of everyday life.
For years I created presentations in higher education classrooms and conference rooms. Now I find myself sharing many of those same ideas through videos with a much larger audience.
These weren’t replacements for what I used to do creatively. They belonged in a different field altogether. I didn’t become someone else. The qualities I had always possessed simply found new ways to express themselves.
I have always been curious. Instead of traveling across the world, I began looking more closely at the blades of grass in my own backyard. I have always loved teaching. Instead of traveling across the United States as a consultant, I began sharing what I was thinking through videos and essays in the hope that it might be helpful to someone else. I have always been a writer and an artist. Now I work in different mediums.
The parts of me that mattered most hadn’t disappeared. They had simply found new expressions.
That’s enough about me. Let’s think about you.
When you feel constrained, when it seems that you cannot expand the field, is it because the field has actually shrunk? Or are you looking in the wrong direction? Are you still looking at yesterday’s field? Are you still measuring your life against yesterday’s reality? The question should not be, “How do I get my old life back?” The question should be, “What is unfolding in my life now, and how do I make something of it?”
We often assume that when familiar realities disappear, when the landmarks around us have changed, the world has become smaller. But sometimes the landmarks change because we have entered entirely new territory.
Sometimes the field has not disappeared. It has simply shifted. We spend so much time looking for what disappeared that we fail to notice what has appeared. Sometimes the greatest obstacle to seeing today’s possibilities is our determination to keep searching for yesterday’s.
What in your life might you finally notice if you stopped trying to get your old life back?
Published 26 July 2026 - UNREDUCED™ Pillar Two