Sports Coaches and Spiritual Teachers

letting go of outcomes and trusting the process

A recent theme I've been exploring is personal suffering, specifically the unnecessary negative emotions and stress we inflict upon ourselves. As I reflect on both past and present struggles, I'm realizing that so much of my suffering has come from fixating on outcomes: not getting the exact thing I wanted, at the specific time, in the specific way I imagined.

We've been conditioned this way. School trains us to chase grades; employers rally us around quarterly targets. This doctrine might serve administrators and CEOs, but it doesn't serve us. Both spiritual traditions and sports coaches point toward the same remedy: release your attachment to outcomes. Focus on the practice, let the score take care of itself. But letting go feels disorienting. Without a finish line, what happens to our drive? Our ambition? Our grit? Do we just stop trying?

In my experience, the opposite happens. By shifting our attention to the process, we suffer less and, surprisingly, often get better results.

Ancient Wisdom for Modern Times

This message has been hammered home by ancient wisdom, but easily forgotten in modern times. Now we chase outcomes not just for satisfaction, but as social currency in a world where nobody sees the work itself.

You have the right to work, but never to the fruit of your work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction.
- Bhagavad Gita

This feels counterintuitive because we’ve been taught to live for the rewards. Strive for A’s in school and promotions in work. Why should we work if we can't enjoy the fruits? In modern corporate contexts, this is a real dilemma, often requiring us to reimagine work entirely, in the form of entrepreneurship or a portfolio approach¹.

A similar lesson emerges from Taoism around leadership:

The best leaders value silence and speak little. When the work is done, the people all say, ‘We did it ourselves.’
- Tao Te Ching

For a leader to serve without needing praise, the work itself must be satisfying. When you can't even claim the accomplishment, it better be worth doing for its own sake.

Both traditions point to the same truth: do the work, then disappear at harvest.

The Trap of Outcomes

I’m no stranger to suffering from outcomes… and likely neither are you.

When I was a product manager, the date of my promotion review was seared into my mind. In the months leading up, I’d show up to work with effort, but only because I believed the promotion would unlock the next tier of happiness. When the promotion felt less likely, I’d resent my work and coworkers, even though nothing had actually changed. When I did get promoted, less than two years into my career, I felt relief, not joy. I thought getting promoted would make me happier, but it just relieved me of further resentment.

This pattern shows up even at the pinnacle of achievement. After winning his first NBA championship, Kevin Durant said: “After winning that championship … I learned that much hadn’t changed. I thought it would fill a certain [void]. It didn’t.”

When conventional success doesn’t always hit like it used to, we often turn to the hedonic treadmill, redirecting income that should feel meaningful towards buying stuff to fill the emptiness. Or we move the goalposts, telling ourselves some version of “If this promotion didn’t bring me eternal peace, well then maybe the next one will.”

The mechanism of suffering has a distinct pattern to it - of shifting the measurement to future outcomes instead of attuning to the present. The deeper explanation can be attributed to uncertainty and fear. It’s scary to not have a set objective or specific timeline. When we’re used to getting what we want through mustering up tons of willpower and ambition, it’s disorienting to realize that we’re not in full control over the outcomes we care about.

But does the suffering come from missing the mark, or from the grasping itself?

If it's the latter, then being process-oriented is how we reduce suffering while continuing to work hard and make an impact.

What Process Looks Like

Shifting from outcomes to process is itself a process. After relying on goals and timelines for much of our lives, trying a different way feels daunting. But embracing process doesn't mean abandoning goals entirely. Dr. Srikumar Rao², equal parts spiritual teacher and MBA professor, offers this guidance:

Set a goal, and the reason you set a goal is it establishes direction. Once the direction has been established, forget about the goal and put all of your emotional energies into the activities which will help you reach your goal… When you detach from the outcome, the probability that you will actually achieve the outcome you wanted increases dramatically.

The hardest part about all this is forgetting about the goal. We often set it, then check our progress against it daily.

To learn how to let go, we can study artists and athletes. Writers understand that writer's block isn't about lacking words, but being overly attached to what the words should be. The cure isn't trying harder. It's in lowering the stakes and sitting down to actually write.

I saw this mindset firsthand during my internship at Under Armour. Over a third of the 100+ interns were D1 college athletes. At the company gym, they worked out differently than the rest of us. It wasn't that they lifted more weight. I had been lifting for years and could match most of them (except the football players). But there was this dialed-in way they carried themselves that was subtle at first.

When they warmed up, they were repeating the same routines they had done thousands of times, but they weren't just going through the motions. I could see it in their faces. The present-moment noticing of how sore they were that day and what adjustments they needed to make. They had cultivated a level of self-awareness from years of training that let them notice tiny differences in their body and mind.

They took shorter rest periods than I did and moved with greater intensity. Most of the time, they were in the gym for less time than me. They showed up, warmed up deliberately with that embodied awareness, did their workout, and left. They knew there were many days of training ahead, and plenty of other things to take care of.

Now, when I visualize that black and red turf in Baltimore with the garage doors swinging open to the harbor, I remember how those fellow interns trained. It makes me wonder: how can I embody that same level of intentionality, focus, and awareness to process in my daily life?

Experimenting with Process

The "trust the process" message gets preached constantly and yet we still get caught in expectations and results. The natural drift of our minds is toward outcomes. Being process-driven isn't difficult - it's often about letting go and allowing ease, but it's also not obvious how to get started.

The British cycling team under Dave Brailsford became famous for their "aggregation of marginal gains," finding tiny improvements everywhere from bike seats to pillowcases to team bus temperatures. But cycling is highly quantifiable, with clear winners and measurable metrics. To apply this in life, you need to try many small things and actually notice if they create shifts. By default, we don't pay attention to subtle changes and what might be shifting as a result.

Being process-oriented requires diligence and meticulous focus. You'll need to practice microscopic examination like legendary basketball coach John Wooden who taught players how to put on socks and tie their shoes properly. This type of noticing can feel trivial and silly.

My recent examples:

• I noticed coffee tastes better from ceramic mugs than metal-lined travel mugs.

• Writing flows better when I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch. Coaching feels more grounded at my desk.

• Putting away dishes and vacuuming helps my mind wander in between deep work sessions. But other chores still feel like chores.

• I've always identified as an introvert, but this label created misconceptions. I get energy from others, but in particular ways. Parties with strangers drain me, but I love parallel presence: working in coffee shops, walking past neighbors with dogs, being around others absorbed in their own work. This led to concrete changes like paying for Stanford library access to work amongst students instead of working from home. But I also needed real connection too, so I swapped solo gym sessions with AirPods for jiu jitsu and basketball. These force me to be tech-free and fully engaged. The combination of quiet coexistence and active connection has noticeably improved my wellbeing.

Reflecting on Process

As Dr. Rao said, the goal sets direction, but staying focused on it means constantly measuring yourself against the distance remaining. Sometimes it's not even possible to know how close you are to your goal, which can feel just as bad as being far away. What helps you keep going is noticing tiny changes day after day.

This requires frequent reflection. You might already do annual or monthly reviews, but living in process means becoming attuned to the day rather than the year.

Daily reflection enables swift direction changes and cultivates granular attention. Instead of "This month was great because X and Y happened." it becomes "Today went well. I like sitting at this new spot at the cafe and I think reading before bed instead of scrolling on my phone results in my eyes feeling less strained in the morning, so I'll try this again tomorrow." It gets specific and nuanced. If you overthink it and try to force an insight to appear, it won’t work. Just notice and trust the process.

When you pay attention to the goal, you can't pay attention to other things, like new forms of growth or unexpected meaningful experiences³. The first time something unexpectedly nice happens, it's easy to dismiss it as trivial because it wasn't planned. But these anomalies compound and unfold into the real substance of a life well-lived. It manifests in the unexpected conversation that changes your perspective, the side project that becomes your calling, the random ritual you tried on a whim that now anchors you every morning.

Goals can provide direction, but don't let a known goal get in the way of unexpected good stuff.

Allow surprise to permeate.

Reversing the Scoreboard

Shifting to process doesn't mean letting go of ambition or effort.

I had a coaching client recently who was oscillating between total surrender and relentless pushing. He talked about being "totally okay with whatever happened," but something was off. He was surrendering to both outcomes and inputs, basically giving up. It reminded me of playing sports as a little boy. When things got hard, someone would just quit. But you can't quit. Even if you let go of the goal, you have to hold onto the process.

Surrender and wu wei don't mean doing nothing. They mean being process-oriented, not relinquishing everything.

You can work hard and be ambitious without fixating on external goals. "Getting shit done" is actually an awesome way to live, as long as you're getting shit done that you care about, where "done" means completed actions rather than achieved outcomes.

Instead of tallying outcomes like salary or wins, track process actions. For me, this means pursuing days well-lived: working on stuff I care about, taking care of my health, spending quality time with people.

If you're trying to lose weight, focus on meals and workouts rather than pounds lost. If you're a content creator, notice how you feel about a post before it goes live rather than obsessing over metrics. In my coaching work, I measure the value I create for clients regardless of what they pay, focusing on conversation quality over conversion rates.

When you stop keeping score, you start getting better at the game.

The Work Becomes The Win

Paradoxically, focusing on the process often leads to better outcomes. The athlete who competes for the love of the game ends up winning more games.

If you're not entitled to the fruits, as the Bhagavad Gita teaches, then the work itself must matter. This applies to everything: work, relationships, creative pursuits, even daily routines. Find activities where the joy is in the thinking, doing, and building - not the results, outcomes, or rewards.

Looking back at my past writing, I realize I've been circling this theme for years:

1. Embrace living in process rather than optimizing schedules

2. Find work with coherence between inner landscape and outer world

3. If you want to stick it out for the long run, discover your own sustainable ambition

4. Once you've found a groove, trust it. Live one good day after another.

Find work, relationships, and pursuits that are worth engaging in even without the promise of reward. When the work itself becomes satisfying enough that you'd do it regardless of the outcome, you've found something worth dedicating to.

That's when you can truly disappear at the harvest.

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P.S. I’m a coach.
I help ambitious people shift from being outcome-fixated to process-oriented. If that sounds interesting to you, learn more here.

(Also, I updated my website! Lemme know what ya think.)

1. Whether you call it a portfolio career or elements of work, unbundling work is a trend I’m paying close attention to.

2. I had the pleasure of being on a group call with Dr. Rao and he is definitely legit - super wise, jolly, childlike - how I want to be when I’m old :)

3. Here I’m referring to what Christopher Alexander described as unfolding and also the main idea in Greatness Cannot Be Planned