A recent LinkedIn post stopped me in my tracks:

Oof. Tough but incredibly important questions to ask.

I understand the urge—and often, the need—to immediately look for the next role. To find what looks like the easiest and most expedient field to transition to and leap right in. After all, it’s the question most asked on teacher transition forums: what job should I go into?

Should.

Not: what job do I want? Or, what job will make me happy?

For many of us, this kind of dreaming feels dangerous, indulgent, or just plain irrelevant. We need to escape a burning building—who cares where the exit leads?

I’ve already talked about why the I’ll-take-any-job approach often fails. What I didn’t talk about as much was how to actually find what you want to do.

In January, I crossed the threshold to being a fully transitioned teacher. I’m currently doing remote, part-time editorial work, essentially running all of the content for a fun new website; working on my literary writing; and raising my kids. It’s not everyone’s dream life, but it’s mine.

But believe it or not, I initially thought about pursuing instructional design. I figured I’d be good at it; I’d always liked lesson planning and building a curriculum. But when I searched job postings, my eyes glazed over at the responsibilities and requirements. When I looked into upskilling courses, my gut reaction was, “Ugh.” It all felt like a chore. I wasn’t at all excited about instructional design.

(Now give me a creative writing workshop with 200+ pages of reading a week like I’m currently doing, and I’m all in.)

Then I realized: just because I’d be good at instructional design didn’t mean I’d be happy. I was a good teacher, and we all know how that turned out.

I’m a competent, hard-working, intelligent person with a master’s degree. I’d probably be good at a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I have to do them.

So I spent some time sitting with myself and really digging into the question: what did I want to do? What would make me happy?

I wish every single transitioning teacher would spend some real time wrestling with this question. Teaching can be so draining and restrictive that we often stop dreaming big—the very thing we encourage our students to do. It can take many of us a lot of time to peel back the layers and get back to what we really want.

Because I think this question is so important, I’ve been researching various methods of unearthing the answer. I’ve compiled the following exercises that can help you get clarity on what you actually want to do next.

Examine Childhood

What did you love to do as a child? What hobbies or fascinations did you have? Looking at these early passions can be super revealing.

On a recent trip home, I found an old “magazine” I’d written in elementary school. (Yes, it was a New Kids On The Block fanzine.) It was complete with columns and features, even a Letter From The Editor. Reading it, I thought, “Wow, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Ask For Feedback

Other people see things in us that we ourselves don’t. I was surprised that, after starting this newsletter, several people who’ve known me at different times in my life (including my education grad school) wrote to me with some version of, “So glad to see you writing.” “Writing is so much of who you are.” It was really illuminating to see how friends and acquaintances saw me and my strengths.

One way to do this is to send an email to ten people you know from different facets of your life. Ask them what they see as your strengths. If you worked together, ask them what they appreciated about you and your work. While I’ll admit I haven’t had the gumption to do this, a friend recently did and said it was illuminating—the things people mentioned most frequently were things she took for granted about herself.

Check Your Flow

You know those times when you get so immersed in something, time seems to slip away? When the ideas pour forth effortlessly and you almost forget yourself? That’s when you’re in your flow state, that realm so many artists and high-performing athletes talk about entering.

But it doesn’t have to be as esoteric as that. Simply stay aware of when you enter “the zone”—when you’re working on something but it doesn’t feel like work. For me, it’s when I’m writing this newsletter. (Oops! It’s 11pm already!) It’s a really good indicator of what you both love and are good at.

Use Assessments

Anyone who’s taught in a high school advisory class has likely had to administer career quizzes. Mine have always said social worker, writer, or… teacher. Sigh. Tools like the MBTI, DISC, or Holland Code can provide insight into your strengths and behavioral tendencies.

A word of caution: just because you’d be good at something doesn’t mean you actually have to do it.

Limited Thinking Log

There’s a lot of research out there about how mindset shapes reality. And we all know how much Dr. Robyn McPherson believes in the power of positive thinking. Go ahead and record every damn negative thing you tell yourself about why you can’t transition, why you can’t earn a living doing what you really want to do, why it’s too late—whatever story it is you tell yourself. Get all the limited thoughts on paper. I promise it will sound a lot less believable on the page than in your mind.

Then challenge each one. Write a counter-thought or an example of why it might actually be 100% true. Find the cracks in the narrative and bust them open. Allow the light to come in.

Morning Pages

Okay, okay—I know as teachers, we all get up early enough as it is. But there’s some real benefit to writing in the early morning, when you’re still in a semi-REM state.

Morning pages were popularized by the book The Artist’s Way (hard recommend) and basically consist of freewriting first thing in the morning. When it comes to your career transition, here’s some things you could try writing about:

1. Vision writing: I followed a set of questions specifically focused around uncovering my vision. You can check out the full post here, but it basically changed my life.

2. Dreams, hunches, and intuitions: I recently had the chance to talk with a career psychologist for my job-job, who firmly believes that all the answers we need are already inside us. So give your subconscious a chance to speak with you. Start with recording your dreams, then include hunches, intuitions, things you’ve noticed, etc, all centered around your job search.

3. Writing a letter to your higher self… and answering: Think of yourself in ten or twenty years—an older, wiser you who loves now-you, wants the best for you, and isn’t caught up in the fears and dramas of your current self. Write them a letter, asking questions about your career. And here’s the kicker: then let them answer back. (I know, I know—it sounds totally woo-woo, but I swear you’ll get some interesting and surprising answers back.)

Got any other exercises or methods for finding career clarity? Drop it in the comments!