A thought I brought from Mexico

Hi {{first_name}} - It’s good to see you again after being off the radar last week. I hope your summer is wonderful and you’re enjoying the World Cup action! Last night was especially exciting for me who married into a very Norwegian family and loves an underdog coming out on top.

Last week, our family convened for a vacation with my brother in law and his crew, along with my wife’s parents. They treated us to a Mexican getaway together in celebration of their 50th anniversary. Among the highlights, we love seeing our nieces who we too little time with. It was fun. It was hot. It was restful. It was exhausting.

I’ve only been to Mexico twice now—both times to the Yucatán Peninsula. Almost a decade ago, Beth and I went to Playa del Carmen for our anniversary. This time we were further south on the beach, just outside Tulum.

We got off property a few times for small adventures. Watched a World Cup match at a local sports bar in the city (got some Mexico WC jerseys from street vendors). Plunged into a few cenotes and swam through caves. Explored 1,000 year old Mayan ruins in 1,000 degree heat.

From the Cancún airport down, Highway 307 runs north/south connecting everything near the coast. On both trips, I’ve been struck by the state of construction along the way.

Compared to what we’re used to seeing in the US, there’s a high percentage of buildings, properties, and structures that are very much incomplete. A state of incomplete so pronounced that it more or less feels complete in its inevitable incompleteness.

Gas stations. Office buildings. Convenience stores. Developments that had enough shape and form to recognize before they were seemingly just walked away from one day—left to the sun and jungle.

Others were less recognizable, either because they were abandoned so long ago, or they had seen so little progress before the tools dropped and the crew left.

To be sure, there were plenty of operational and nicely finished gas stations, grocery stores, interior design shops… a new Auto Zone. It’s just that they tended to be highly outnumbered. And so as we passed by in the air conditioned van, I found myself constantly wondering what had happened. To that one. And that one. And oh jeez, that one.

Did the money run out? Project lost interest? Untimely death of someone responsible for the job or business? They crew succumbed to the convection oven heat? Whatever the case, the scene appears fragile, but also totally normal.

While it differs greatly from real estate development here, I recognize we have our own version. Our volume of unfinished projects are sitting on servers or deteriorating behind
forgotten platforms credentials. The evidence isn’t as obvious, but the scale must be enormous. Blogs that died. Portfolios that become outdated. One and done websites. Business ideas that flared out. Not sitting off the sides of the road and highly visible—hiding in the shadows, clogging up data centers and URLs.

I’ve contributed to this digital rubble a few times over the years in my own way. Passion projects that were a lot of fun but unsustainable. Spinoff product ideas that were exciting but didn’t catch flight. I guess it comes with the territory of being an experience designer and creative builder. Barrier to entry is low and susceptibility to a shiny distraction is high.

As the visual metaphor confronted me over and over during the week, I started feeling that innate sense of guilt and shame. The subtle embarrassment of things I’ve started and then didn’t finish. Or finished and immediately changed gears. Some were innocent and low impact. Others were well intentioned and meant to be long term. The aforementioned guilt or reasons why aren't the point so I'll skip past all that. (Plus, I’m trying to turn a new leaf and cut myself a little more slack these days.)

However, by way of contrast there was another experience we had—off of the 307 and through a more intimate part of Tulum. Route 15 is a simple 2 lane road that runs through what I can only describe as a dense forest campground along the coast. In this area, there was a higher concentration of restaurants, inns, bars, shops that were all open for business, but separated by thick trees and vegetation. We were driving through the middle of nowhere and then bam—boutique, ice cream shop, beachfront inn. Restaurant, cocktail stand, sports bar. Vibrant lights and music mixed with the wild ecosystem enveloping it. I’ve never experienced a stretch of road anywhere else like it.

We went this way for dinner at Chambao, an open air steakhouse set elegantly into the jungle. Between the ambiance (the DJ absolutely mesmerized us), the service, and the food, it was one of the most memorable meals we’ve had. A true hidden gem.

But it also gave me another way of looking at my prior observation. While highway 307 brought certain awareness and comparisons to mind, this stretch of Tulum gave me a different way of seeing things.

I’d like to think I’m entering my route 15 era. Where building is more intentional because the audience is smaller and more attentive. Where experience stands out in a special way because of the uniqueness of the environment. I don’t know exactly what shape that’s going to take as the planet speeds up and the digital world continues evolving, but it’s where my mind drifts.

Or maybe I’m stretching this metaphor like a bottle of liquor at an all inclusive resort. (I’m experiencing everything as a metaphor these days.)

Aside from the fun and excitement, traveling internationally offers a welcome dose of perspective change. So this one has stuck with me on the return to “normalcy” back home.

Back home where on July 4th the Department of Government Efficiency shut down after 18 months. Having upended careers and livelihoods with a velocity and fervor only the elite can accomplish, it also achieved roughly 1/8th what it was supposed to before closing shop.

Back home where we start conflicts around the globe that never resolve, but ensure billions of dollars are wasted and people who don’t live according to the American operating system perish in their own homelands.

Just a few unfortunate reminders for myself that while I’m hustling my heart out creating and building, I’m not the asshole in this cosmic cluster.

My heart is set on dreams of finishing the project that will be my own Chambao. The shape and form continue shifting, but I'm continuing to rapidly build, endure the heat, and believe that it will be accomplished.

-Justin

I started following Richard Banfield on on Substack recently. His pieces are excellent. He’s a former product designer and builder who’s turned his energy toward helping entrepreneurs navigating their mid-career pivots and so called second acts. This one hits on the theme I keep facing over and over - the power of belief.

Read it on Richard’s Substack

Alice in Futureland (Joanne De Luca & Janine Lopiano) offer compelling thoughts and questions around the era of distorted reality we’re living in thanks to AI, echo chambers, and emotional contagion.

Read it on Alice in Futureland