Most decisions are made in what I think of as vacation mode.
In vacation mode, novelty does the heavy lifting.
Energy is high. Friction is invisible. Everything feels workable because nothing has repeated enough to test it.
This isn’t limited to travel.
People choose jobs this way. Roles. Cities. Partnerships. Even identities.
Vacation mode is seductive because it answers the wrong question very well:
Does this feel good right now?
The problem is that most meaningful decisions don’t fail immediately. They fail later, quietly, once repetition begins.
When novelty stops helping
After a while, excitement fades. Not because something is wrong, but because novelty has done its job and taken a step back.
That’s when operating mode begins.
Operating mode asks different questions:
- Can this environment support sustained focus?
- Do small frictions compound or disappear over time?
- Does the rhythm support clarity, or does it slowly erode it?
These questions don’t show up early. They only appear once nothing is trying to impress you.
That’s why so many choices look right in the beginning and slowly turn heavy.
Responsibility changes the evaluation
Living and working as a nomad — without a fixed base, while carrying real responsibility — accelerates this shift.
Deadlines don’t care where you are.
Outcomes don’t pause for adjustment periods.
There’s no indulgence window where friction can be ignored.
You learn quickly that environments aren’t neutral.
They either support thinking and execution, or they drain it in small, cumulative ways.
Operating mode isn’t about optimization.
It’s about sustainability.
Rhythm reveals more than intensity
Intensity is easy to manufacture.
Rhythm is harder to fake.
Most environments feel fine in short bursts. Fewer hold up under repetition.
That’s true for:
- jobs that looked exciting on paper
- teams that felt aligned early on
- roles that came with status but not coherence
Vacation mode hides this.
Operating mode exposes it.
The real question
Over time, the question changes.
Not:
Is this interesting?
Not:
Is this impressive?
But:
Can this actually work once repetition begins?
Most people never switch modes. They keep re-entering vacation mode with new choices, hoping novelty will fix what rhythm already rejected.
Operating mode isn’t cynical.
It’s honest.
It doesn’t promise excitement.
It promises clarity.
And clarity, over time, is what keeps things intact.