Designing Your Life

Have you ever wondered if it's possible to design a joyful, meaningful, and well-lived life the way an architect designs a beautiful building or an engineer creates an elegant product? In Designing Your Life: How to Build a Well-Lived, Joyful Life, Stanford professors Bill Burnett and Dave Evans argue that you can—and should. They contend that life, like any great design, is built through creativity, experimentation, and iteration—not through rigid planning or perfect foresight.

The authors draw from their work at Stanford's d.school (the Hasso Plattner Institute of Design), where they teach students how to use design thinking to solve complex, open-ended challenges. Their central insight is that the same methods that produce groundbreaking innovations—like the iPhone or lifesaving medical devices—can help anyone craft a fulfilling life. The challenge, they explain, is to stop searching for the single 'correct' path or 'true calling' and instead learn to build your way forward, prototype by prototype, decision by decision.

Why Life Design Matters

Burnett and Evans begin by pointing out that most of us are trained to solve well-defined problems—math equations, business cases—but not what they call 'wicked problems': those complex, evolving, deeply personal challenges like choosing a career, balancing work and love, or finding meaning. These are problems with no single right answer, only better or worse fits for who you are. Life design offers a new mindset for these messy realities, grounded in five principles: curiosity, a bias to action, reframing problems, awareness of process, and radical collaboration.

The urgency of this approach lies in what they call 'dysfunctional beliefs'—mental traps that keep people stuck. You might believe your major determines your career, that you’re too old to change, or that success equals happiness. In reality, most people’s paths are nonlinear. The authors dismantle these myths and show that designing life means accepting ambiguity as your creative material.

Design Thinking Applied to Life

Design thinking, first pioneered by IDEO and popularized at Stanford, involves understanding users, generating multiple options, building prototypes, and testing ideas quickly. Applied to life, you are both the designer and the user. The process is cyclical: observe your experiences, define what matters, ideate possible lives, prototype them, test and reflect, and iterate continuously. The result is not a fixed plan, but a flexible and generative process of becoming.

In one illustrative story, Ellen, a college graduate who majored in geology because she liked 'rocks,' ends up stuck living at home after graduation, unsure what to do next. Burnett and Evans show how Ellen could use empathy (toward herself), reframe the situation, and build prototypes—perhaps volunteering with environmental groups or exploring work that taps her organizational skills—to test possible directions. Rather than seeking one perfect answer, she can design multiple viable paths.

Core Themes and What You'll Learn

Throughout the book, the authors weave together real-life stories, exercises, and reframing tools. You’ll learn how to build a compass by articulating your Lifeview (your philosophy of what makes life meaningful) and Workview (your assumptions about the purpose of work). You’ll experiment with wayfinding—using engagement and energy as your GPS. You’ll design three parallel versions of your next five years, called 'Odyssey Plans.' And you’ll learn to prototype ideas through conversations and experiences before committing to big changes. Later chapters teach you how to 'choose well' (letting go of fear and perfectionism), build 'failure immunity,' and sustain community through a Life Design Team.

Ultimately, Burnett and Evans want to liberate you from the illusion of certainty. Their argument is not about predicting your future but building it—step by step, prototype by prototype, guided by what energizes you and what aligns with your core values. As they put it, “You can’t know where you’re going until you know where you are.” By learning to think and act like a designer, you can turn confusion into curiosity, failure into feedback, and life itself into a creative work in progress.

Bill Burnett and Dave Evans begin their process with a foundational principle: start from exactly where you are. Many people delay action because they think they should already have a plan, a purpose, or a clear vision. Life design, however, begins not with answers but with awareness. To know what’s next, you first have to understand your current reality.

Defining 'Where You Are'

The authors use the metaphor of a map. A map is useless without the 'You Are Here' marker. To locate yourself, they ask you to assess four key areas of life: health, work, play, and love. Using a 'dashboard' format, you rate how full or empty each area feels—like checking your car’s fuel gauges. This exercise often reveals imbalances and misalignments. For instance, you might be excelling in work but running on fumes in play or relationships.

Burnett and Evans share real examples: Fred, an entrepreneur who neglected health while chasing startup success, realized his life dashboard flashed red. Once he hired a personal trainer and started reading for pleasure, both his energy and productivity soared. Debbie, a mother who left a corporate job, discovered that by redefining 'work' to include motherhood and home management, her self-worth—and her sense of purpose—returned.

Avoiding 'Gravity Problems'

An important early reframe in life design is recognizing what the authors call 'gravity problems'—situations you cannot change. You can’t fight gravity, and you can’t fight reality. Complaining about age discrimination, low poetry income, or the laws of physics might feel righteous, but it’s not actionable. Designers don’t waste time trying to fix the unfixable; they redesign around it. As Evans says, 'If it’s not actionable, it’s not a problem.'

Instead, you learn to discern between true design problems (those you can influence) and circumstances you must accept. Turning acceptance into action is central to starting where you are. For example, if you can’t change a company’s promotion system, you can learn new skills to become invaluable in your current role—or design a path to a different organization entirely. Acceptance is not resignation; it’s creative realism.

From Awareness to Action

Starting from where you are means observing your life without judgment. You gather data through reflection and honest self-assessment. Only then can you see your current 'story' clearly—and begin to write a new one. This stage corresponds to what designers call problem finding before problem solving. It’s what prevents you from wasting years on the wrong problems, like Dave Evans did trying to be a marine biologist.

“You start where you are. Not where you wish you were, not where you think you should be, but exactly where you are.”

Once you map your health, work, play, and love dashboard, life design encourages small experiments—tiny, low-risk changes that build momentum. By embracing reality rather than fighting it, you begin the lifelong process of building your way forward.

Once you’ve located yourself, the next step is to know where you’re heading. Burnett and Evans teach you to create your personal compass by integrating two key reflections: your Workview and your Lifeview. This tool keeps you oriented when life’s winds shift and decisions multiply.

Workview: What Work Means to You

Your Workview defines why you work and what makes work meaningful. Is it a source of service, self-expression, livelihood, or growth? Burnett and Evans ask probing questions: Why work? What makes good work good? What role should money play? By articulating your answers, you prevent others—from parents to corporate culture—from designing your life for you. Psychologist Martin Seligman, whose research underpins positive psychology, similarly found that connecting work to purpose enhances satisfaction and resilience.

Lifeview: What Life Means to You

Your Lifeview explores broader philosophical questions: What gives life meaning? What is good or evil? Where do family and community fit? Is there something transcendent or spiritual guiding you? You don’t need fixed religious beliefs—only honest reflection. This exercise helps surface your implicit values so you can live them consciously. Lifeview writing can be brief (about 250 words) but powerful, offering clarity about what truly matters.

Aligning the Two: Finding Coherency

The crucial step is integrating your Workview and Lifeview and examining where they complement or clash. Coherence, the authors explain, means that who you are, what you believe, and what you do align. For example, if you value environmental stewardship but work for a company that pollutes, your compass is off course. The goal isn’t perfection but conscious trade-offs. A coherent compass gives you direction when facing crossroads, from career shifts to personal choices.

Imagine this compass as your internal GPS. You’ll still tack through storms and adjust your sails like a sailor, but you’ll always return to true north—your integrated sense of purpose. Returning to your Workview and Lifeview annually, like changing the batteries in a smoke detector, keeps you aligned amid life’s inevitable transitions.

If the compass gives you direction, wayfinding teaches you how to move when no map exists. Burnett and Evans borrow this metaphor from explorers like Lewis and Clark: you can’t plan your exact route to the Pacific—you can only keep heading west, reading the terrain as you go.

Using Engagement and Energy as Clues

The authors introduce two powerful indicators—engagement and energy—to navigate uncertainty. Engagement measures when you feel absorbed and alive; energy reflects what activities leave you more (or less) vital. Through a “Good Time Journal,” you track daily work and rate how engaging and energizing each task feels. This helps you identify 'flow states,' a concept popularized by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, where challenge and skill meet to create total immersion.

Finding Flow and Adult Play

Flow is grown-up play—the zone where time disappears, creativity peaks, and you feel fully yourself. For Michael, a civil engineer who thought he hated his work, journaling revealed that he loved tackling complex designs but was drained by office politics and admin tasks. Instead of quitting, he redesigned his role to do more deep engineering and less bureaucracy. That changed everything. He shifted from restless unhappiness to daily flow.

Tools for Reflection

Burnett and Evans recommend reflecting weekly on your journal using the AEIOU method—an acronym for Activities, Environments, Interactions, Objects, and Users. This helps you “zoom in” and spot what truly works. You also revisit peak experiences from your past (your 'mountaintop moments') to mine clues about what’s consistently engaging. These patterns form the raw data for designing prototypes of new roles or lifestyles that align with your sources of joy and energy.

Ultimately, wayfinding means replacing grand plans with experiments guided by curiosity and feedback. The question isn’t 'What should I do with my life?' but 'What engages and energizes me now—and what small next step can I take?' Life design turns the myth of linear planning into an ongoing adventure of discovery.

At some point, everyone hits a wall. You feel trapped in a job, paralyzed by indecision, or unsure what comes next. Burnett and Evans devote an entire chapter to teaching the designer’s antidote: ideation. Designers don’t wait for the “right idea”—they generate many ideas quickly, knowing that quantity breeds creativity.

Mind Mapping for Ideas

The core technique is mind mapping. Start with a central concept (like 'being outdoors') and free-associate rapidly, branching into related words and images. Then combine far-flung ideas into new possibilities. One example: Grant, a car-rental clerk bored at work, mapped 'hiking,' 'pirates,' and 'kids,' which led to the creative concept of a seaside 'Pirate Surf Camp'—and, more importantly, reminded him he needed to move toward work that blended nature, creativity, and fun. The goal isn’t practicality but freeing imagination from judgment.

Avoiding Anchor Problems

The authors also identify anchor problems—issues that keep you trapped because you’re fixated on one impossible solution. Dave’s 'perfect garage' dream, Melanie’s multi-million-dollar nonprofit plan, and John’s decades-long attempt to lose twenty pounds for a mule ride all illustrate this trap. The key is to reframe. Instead of asking “How can I lose 20 pounds?” ask “How can I experience the Grand Canyon top to bottom?” (hike, raft, or fly). Reframing transforms paralysis into possibility.

Prototyping Your Way Out

Getting unstuck often means building prototypes—small, low-risk experiments to test ideas. You test reality instead of debating hypotheticals. This bias toward action not only generates insight but restores forward momentum and confidence. As Burnett and Evans remind readers: “You’re never stuck, because you can always generate a lot of ideas.”

Designers never design in theory—they prototype. In life design, this means running small experiments to test new ideas. Rather than taking big leaps into new careers or lifestyles, you sample, shadow, or assist in small ways to learn from experience.

Try, Don’t Guess

Clara, a longtime sales executive who wanted meaning beyond quotas, started by 'trying stuff.' She took a low-commitment mediation class, volunteered in juvenile justice, then joined a women's nonprofit. Each prototype revealed what fit and what didn’t, eventually leading to a meaningful encore career advocating for the homeless. Her story proves the design mantra: build your way forward.

The Life Design Interview

The simplest prototype is a Life Design Interview—a conversation to get someone’s story, not to ask for a job. You talk to people doing what interests you and learn what their lives are really like. Clara succeeded because she approached others with curiosity, not agenda. By contrast, Elise, who invested all her savings in starting a deli without testing first, learned the hard way that jumping without prototyping can be costly.

Brainstorming Better Prototypes

With a team, you can brainstorm prototype ideas using structured creativity. Burnett and Evans outline the four rules of brainstorming: go for quantity, defer judgment, build on ideas, and encourage wild ideas. Using playful tools (even Play-Doh), you can generate possibilities to test. The key question is always: “How can I prototype this to learn more?”

Whether you spend an afternoon shadowing someone, build a side project, or conduct a series of interviews, prototyping transforms dreams into data. It moves you from theory into the real world and helps you make decisions grounded in evidence, not fear.

Making choices is unavoidable, but choosing well is an art. In this chapter, Burnett and Evans tackle one of life’s most universal desires—happiness—and show that it doesn’t come from making the 'right' choice but from learning to make choices in the right way.

Good Choosing vs. Agonizing

The authors break choosing into four steps: gather options, narrow them down, choose discerningly, and then let go and move on. Most people fail at the last step because they agonize. Harvard’s Dan Gilbert and Columbia’s Sheena Iyengar both show that more choices reduce satisfaction. Too many jams on the shelf, and buyers freeze. The same happens with life options—you need a few (about three to five), not dozens.

Learn to Discern

Rather than seeking perfect information, good choosers rely on multiple ways of knowing—logic, emotion, intuition, even the 'gut feeling' that neuroscientist Antonio Damasio found essential for sound decisions. Burnett and Evans call this integration discernment. It’s why meditation, journaling, or spiritual practice—not just spreadsheets—enhance decision-making. They also encourage “grokking” (a term from Robert Heinlein) by imagining yourself already living each choice to feel which resonates.

Letting Go

The authors also reveal a paradox: options make us anxious. Once you decide, you must let the rest go. Studies show that people are happier with irreversible choices because doubt fades when closure occurs. Burnett and Evans put it simply: “Happiness is letting go of what you don’t need.” The story of Andy, who chose medical school over policy work after 'grokking' both, shows how moving on frees your energy for what’s next—and how design thinking replaces regret with forward motion.

Designers expect failure. They fail early and often, not because they’re careless but because every failure teaches. Burnett and Evans want readers to develop what they call failure immunity—a mindset that turns mistakes into growth and keeps you moving forward without fear.

Redefining Failure

In life design, you can’t 'fail' as long as you keep learning. Each prototype that doesn’t work is data. The authors cite psychologist Angela Duckworth’s research on 'grit'—the perseverance to continue despite setbacks—as the key predictor of long-term success. Redefining failure as feedback builds resilience and confidence.

Finite vs. Infinite Games

Drawing from philosopher James Carse, they distinguish between finite games (played to win) and infinite games (played to keep playing). Life is an infinite game. A failed job interview or relationship isn’t the end—it’s part of the ongoing process of becoming more you. When you shift focus from outcomes to participation, failure loses its sting.

The Failure Reframe Exercise

To practice, the authors suggest logging recent failures and categorizing them as screwups (simple mistakes), weaknesses (personal patterns), or growth opportunities (learnable). The goal is to extract one insight from each. Dave, for example, realized after a failed client call that he should always check in before launching into business—an easy tweak with lasting effect. This reflective practice immunizes you against emotional paralysis.

Failure immunity doesn’t mean life will be smooth. It means you’ll stay creative no matter what. Like Reed, who lost thirteen school elections and later battled cancer, setbacks made him antifragile. When life design becomes your process, every outcome—good or bad—becomes material for continued growth.

Though designing your life feels personal, Burnett and Evans remind us that it’s never a solo project. Radical collaboration—the lifeblood of design thinking—applies here too. You live and design your life in community, not isolation.

Your Life Design Team

The authors outline four types of people in your design ecosystem: supporters (those who cheer you on), players (people you actively do things with), intimates (family or close friends directly affected by your life choices), and the team (three to five co-creators who meet regularly to discuss your progress). The ideal group is small—enough for diversity, but intimate enough for trust. Their only rules: keep it respectful, confidential, participative, and generative.

Mentors and Counsel

Good mentors, they emphasize, offer counsel, not advice. Advice says “If I were you…”; counsel helps you clarify what you think. Mentorship, whether long-term or momentary, cultivates discernment—the ability to hear your own best wisdom. You don’t need 100% perfect mentors; you just need mentor-capable people willing to listen and reflect.

From Team to Community

Beyond the team, life design thrives in a broader community bound by shared purpose, regular meetings, and mutual knowing. Burnett’s dads’ group, for instance, meets to help one another live as more authentic fathers. Such communities, whether rooted in faith, hobbies, or personal growth, provide stability and reflection when life’s noise grows loud. They create spaces where you can be known and keep designing forward together.

Life design began as a Stanford class but ultimately becomes a social practice. As Burnett and Evans affirm, “Life design is a journey, and it’s not as much fun to travel alone.”