Data isn’t wisdom, and productivity isn’t progress. Reflection is the missing mechanism that turns one into the other.
This week's reflection on the Curated Questions Podcast conversation with Radhika Dutt is, well, rather meta.
Very early in the discussion with this author, entrepreneur, and MIT grad, her reflections on intentional reflection cemented the concept for this week's work. It resonated because it was true.
Reflection has been a hit-or-miss practice for me over the years. I have read many books and worked for some of the Navy's best leaders, yet I've often missed the chance to ensure the lessons stuck. The mechanism by which we turn moments into meaning, experience into wisdom, and data into narrative is simple, but only if we make space for it.
Working alone from home since resigning from the Department of Defense in March, I've felt how easily each day merges into the slipstream of repetition. Few serendipitous moments exist to break the monotony on the round-trip from the home office desk to the kitchen for lunch. But reflection changes the texture of the day. Injecting small reflection moments reveals nuance by creating pockets where insights can emerge. Between calls, waiting for coffee, or picking up lunch, the ordinary becomes an opportunity for meaning.
I've built slide decks of lessons learned that sat on hard drives, collecting virtual dust. Radhika reminded me why:
"We don’t learn from experience; we learn from reflecting on experience."
I realize now the difference I could have made for decision-makers had I delivered wisdom-based reflections rather than data dumps. Deadlines and chaos often shaped my reports more reflections did. Blocking time to interrogate data and assumptions through intentional curiosity transforms data into insights, and insights into action.
Radhika's OLHA process institutionalizes the question, "What happened?" But data alone doesn't tell the story. Reflection is the bridge between "what happened," "so what," and "now what." The narrative that emerges becomes the meaningful stops we remember and rely on as we navigate our lives and decisions.
As we approach the year's end, it is a natural threshold for reflection. This is an invitation to experiment with small reflection triggers you might adopt in the new year: a pause before climbing out of the car, a phone-free lunch, or, as Radhika suggested, dedicating your walk or workout to reflection. The idea is to incorporate a workable practice into your existing schedule.
What blurry experiences are awaiting your reflection to provide clarity and produce wisdom?
