written by Stacey Lindsay

Why is it that we approach our work challenges with fierce grit but neglect giving the same to our personal lives and dreams? It’s a question swimming in our heads, all thanks to Bonnie Wan.

A veteran advertising strategist who’s spent decades helping household names (think BMW and Pepsi) hone their story, Bonnie is known for finding the most creative and vital path toward building a brand’s presence. Yet despite her career edge, she found herself overwhelmed and lost in the middle third of her life. Her marriage was in jeopardy, her days maxed, and her heart yearned for more time with her three kids. What was the fix?

The answer came via a work tactic: a creative brief. Bonnie began to approach her personal life with the same technique she did in the ad sales office—and she discovered a radical new clarity. These tactics, which she compiled in her new book The Life Brief: A Playbook for No-Regrets Living, gave her a more profound sense of joy. And they elicit a question for all of us: What would happen if we took this ‘life brief’ approach in our lives?

Bonnie argues we’d gain deeper meaning for ourselves and humanity. “When we give ourselves permission, to be honest with ourselves and to ask for the things that nourish and feed us and allow us to tap into a sense of aliveness,” she says, “it is also good for our relationships, our families, our communities, and our work.”

Chatting with Bonnie Wan

There's a scene early in your book where you're sitting in your childhood bedroom during a visit home to your parents’ and you are spinning and thinking I can't do this anymore. What was going on for you then?

At the time, I had stories repeating in my head. Stories that my husband wasn't enough of a partner. Stories that I was in a critical space I couldn't hold on my own. Stories about the pressure and the stakes of being the sole breadwinner while doing all the things expected of mothers with young kids. My husband is a terrific guy and is one of the most soul-centered people you could meet. But at the time, I couldn't see past my stories about what was wrong.

You made a major mental pivot, if it’s safe to say, and switched how you were approaching your problem. Tell us about this.

I realized I was moving fast down the direction of leaving my marriage, or I had to find an alternative. Reflexively, I decided, f*@k it— I'm going to do what I do as a strategist and drop into the essence of what's at the heart of this.

As a strategist, I'm faced with a new challenge. It's easy to have these doubting moments and to think, I don't know anything about this or how I will find my way through this in a really short amount of time. There's always pressure when you face a new client, a new problem, or a new industry. That's why we start to ask penetrating questions because time is always of the essence in advertising. We must cut through the woods very quickly, and as soon as we get answers, we start writing. We are listening to what's being said and to what's behind what's being said. It's a real intuitive art.

What did you do next?

Writing was my gateway. I started scribbling and dropping in. I started writing—What do I want? What do I really want? What's the problem here? When I started giving myself permission to write all this, I stepped back and realized that my husband was not the problem. It was my relationship with time. Everything I was writing showed that I wanted more time, that I was not getting enough time, and that we were not spending enough time together. It quickly revealed that I was putting my attention, energy, and time in all the wrong places. And so that became the first insight of the moment. Then, it became clear that I was ready to take back our time and imagine how we spent it.

That's what got me to the first brief: five or six declarative statements about how I wanted us to be spending my time. In the first line, I wrote that I was ready for time with my children, time with my husband, and time for myself, which many women don't prioritize. Often, we don't even say we want [more time with ourselves] out loud. Being a mother of three young kids and declaring that I want time for myself felt self-serving. But writing it was the first moment of relief.

It is incredible what honest, discursive writing can reveal. 

It is. It's an act of self-care. It's an act of permission. It's an act of commitment. It's an act of discovery.

What did writing and taking this approach reveal to you then?

It was so powerful and potent to have that realization that the story in my head wasn't aligning with what was coming out on the page. That thought dissonance was where the clarity and the magic were. I was able to say, 'Wait a second, why am I telling myself this thing in the theater of my mind when the reality is much more practical and functional than what my emotions were telling me?'

Often, the most straightforward questions like 'What do I want?'—which you include in your book—are the hardest to ask ourselves. What keeps us from asking these simple-yet-bold things of ourselves?

It's scary, and it can trigger fear or anxiety, and there are lots of reasons for that. There is also some enculturated avoidance. At my retreat in 2020, a woman opened up and said, 'My parents always taught me never to ask for what I want as it will always lead to disappointment.' That threw me back. We all carry some narrative that we've inherited that someone, probably out of good intentions and deep love, gave us to protect us from pain or hurt.

Some have asked me, 'Do you think this is a self-centered practice?' And I think, yes, it is self-centered. This is about centering and living life from the place of your inner voice and truth. But we are not taught by our culture to practice that. We don't ask our kids, 'Hey, what's going on in here?’ We don’t ask, ‘What would your answer be if you dropped into this knowing? Where do you get aliveness? Which choice feels right?' We don't ask these questions in our schools or of each other. But the world is full of advice, opinions, and how-tos. So, there are a lot of social narratives, and depending on what culture you come from, there are different lenses. For me, as an Asian woman, Chinese culture is very much about society first, family second, and the individual last. And as a woman, you're dead last, even though no one says that. But in Western culture, women are also taught explicitly or implicitly that they are there to serve and care for other people.

How does this work of digging deeper extend beyond the self?

When we give ourselves permission to ask the question, 'What do I want?', our answers are not purely self-serving. They are self-centered but not self-serving because, at the end of the day, what I've heard from everyone I've done this work with is what they want: belonging and connection. They want to be seen, understood, and heard and have permission and time to do the things that feel alive. Those are not selfish because they have ripple effects that serve everyone.

We're going to need to practice this. It will be more urgent than ever as we look at where our inherited stories are taking us—back to war, to really extreme positions in life, and to really firm stereotypes about each other. Also, when we look at the advanced pace of technology and AI and how all of the previous and proven paths are evaporating in front of us, we will be our only and best compass for navigating those worlds. This kind of self-inquiry and reflection feels simple, as you said, but it goes deep. It's the only way we can sit and think, What stories and beliefs have I inherited and adopted from other people that still serve me right now in my life as I look around and within me, and which ones am I ready to shed so that I can create anew? These are important questions for us to reflect on, in small doses and small bites.

You invite readers to start moving away from planning and toward practicing. Why do you believe in practicing versus planning in our lives?

Plans are useful in many ways. If you're making financial plans or planning a wedding or a vacation, those are all important things to get the details right. But life is changing rapidly, and it's impossible to plan for the things we cannot see. Life is a series of unfolding, full of surprises and serendipity that are hard to imagine from where we sit right now. Plans are based on the facts, figures, and knowledge we have in front of us right now. And when we're so adhering to a plan, so heads-down, we often forget to look up and see the wonderful surprises emerging in front of us—all the invitations, callings, and possibilities. So, I think plans can sometimes blind us to the array of possibilities that are actually available to us.

The practice is about being deeply connected to what you want at the highest level. It is about being clear about what gives you that sense of aliveness while you look around and evaluate what's really happening. Where are the possibilities? So, plans dictate how, and The Life Brief invites you to understand your why, and maybe the what, but loosely held so that you can navigate the how with flexibility and adaptability and serve the unexpected changes coming at you day to day.

We're still fresh into a new year. Where can we start—today, right now—to start getting clear about ourselves, lives, and happiness?

I would start with the question at the start of my book: What do you want? And if asking that is too hard or too big, start with: How do you want?

How do you want to show up in this part of your life?

How do you want to serve in this situation? How do you want to shift?

Asking this suddenly helps you navigate a very tricky, daunting, confusing situation. I have one right now in my life. For me, it is very hard to ask what I want right now in this situation, but I do know I want to show up with integrity, and I want to serve what I call 'the triple win outcome'—a win for me, a win for you, a win for the collective. I know I want to show up in a way that taps creative alternatives that don't buy into the unspoken rules of how business or relationships have to go. I want to step outside and into a field of bigger alternatives and wider possibilities that model a new way forward that is human-centered.

So again, What do you want? How do you want? Those two questions can enter you into a new way of dancing with anyone or anything in your life.

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To learn more about Bonnie and to order her book The Life Brief: A Playbook for No-Regrets Living, visit thelifebrief.com.

Interview and story by Stacey Lindsay.

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