If there’s one practice I’ve carried with me from my time as a Scrum Master and Project Manager, it’s the retrospective.
In tech projects, we used to run biweekly retros—a ritual where the team would pause, reflect, and ask: What went well? What didn’t? What should we try next?
That simple rhythm of checking in and adjusting course every two weeks helped us grow, iterate, and improve—not just as professionals, but as a team.
This post is just that—a small, personal retrospective of something I wrote a few days ago, and everything it stirred up in the process.
A few days back, I shared something that felt… messy.
No real structure. No neat narrative arc. Just a bunch of thoughts, spilled out.
And truth be told, I meant for it to be that way.
I didn’t organize or edit much. I wanted the post to reflect exactly how I felt: scattered, a little drained, slightly restless, and uncertain. I even tossed in a few emojis 😊😅—not for style points, but to make it feel a little lighter, a bit more human.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was honest.
✅ Retrospective on What Went Well
1. I finally published instead of procrastinating
I’ve had dozens of unfinished drafts stuck in limbo because I kept overthinking every line. But this time, I hit publish. And that’s a win. Sometimes, done is better than perfect.
2. Rawness felt right
Even though it was unpolished and scattered, it felt true to what I was experiencing. No one reached out or said “same here”—and that’s okay. Not everything has to land or resonate with others immediately. Sometimes, writing is less about response and more about release. The act of expressing what I felt, as it came, was enough.
3. Writing helped untangle mental knots
That post was me untangling my own mind in public. And once I got it out, I felt lighter. Not clearer, necessarily—but less heavy.
🌿 Retrospective: What Felt Good
Being real without filtering too much
That post was the closest thing to journaling I’ve shared publicly. Not everything needs to be optimized. Not every post needs to have a “point.” Sometimes the point is the expression.
AI helped polish, not replace
AI cleaned it up, sure. But it didn’t write it for me. It just made it easier to shape the chaos—without diluting my voice.
Letting go of expectations
I didn’t care how many people read it. There was no CTA, no hook, no strategy. I posted it for me. And ironically, that made it more authentic than most things I’ve shared lately.
🛠️ What I Could Do Better
1. Stop waiting for “perfect timing”
The mood rarely strikes. I want to start writing when things are messy, not just when I’ve had time to reflect. That’s where the real stuff is.
2. Give structure some space next time
While the “chaos dump” approach worked once, I don’t want every post to feel that way. A little structure doesn’t hurt—and helps others follow along.
3. Prioritize physical movement
Mental fog often comes from physical stagnation. Cycling helps. Walking helps. I just need to make those non-negotiables.
💬 Random Thoughts
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LinkedIn has slowly started feeling like a place where people post deeply personal rants in professional clothing. Not judging—just noticing. And yes, I see the irony 😅.
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Posting still gives me a weird satisfaction. It’s not validation I seek, it’s closure—a sense of getting something out of my system.
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Emojis made the post feel easier to read. Not everyone likes them, but for me, they add tone where words sometimes fall short.
🎯 Retrospective Action Plan: What’s Next
- Keep showing up—even when the mind feels scattered.
- Let the mess exist—but learn to shape it with care.
- Use AI as a tool, not a crutch.
- Step outside more—fresh air really does clear the head.
- Share more. Worry less.
Writing isn’t just expression—it’s a way to process, to untangle, to understand. And while I’ve still got a long way to go, I’m glad I wrote that piece. I’m glad I posted it. I’m glad I’m reflecting now.
Doing a retrospective like this—outside of work—reminded me of something important:
We can treat our lives like evolving projects.
Check in. Adjust. Improve—bit by bit.
Whether it’s writing, routines, mental health, or relationships… pausing to take stock (without judgment) can be incredibly grounding.
So here’s to more messy drafts, more clarity over time, and just enough self-reflection—every couple of weeks or so.
Just like we used to do with the team.
Let’s see what the next post brings.
