The framework I use when I'm stuck

The Uncomfortable Art of Not Knowing

Ten weeks.

That's how long I have to get Unbecoming ready for streamers. And honestly? I still can't see the full picture.

For those who don't know, Unbecoming is our documentary exploring what happens when people stop trying to become more and start unbecoming the layers that were never truly them. We've filmed in monasteries in Nepal, interviewed world-leading neuroscientists in Venice, and followed three participants through a transformative 6-month protocol with Nic and Fehren Kusmich.

It's ambitious. It's sprawling. And right now, sitting in the edit bay, it's also... terrifying.

Here's what I'm learning, and maybe this lands for you too if you're in the middle of something complex:

The path won't always be clear. And that's actually okay.

The temptation when facing a massive creative (or business) challenge is to either freeze up because you can't see the finish line, or sprint toward the things that feel good, polishing scenes that are already working, perfecting details that don't matter yet.

Neither approach serves you.

What's working for us right now is a disciplined form of triage. Each week, we're mapping our footage against two questions:

What do we KNOW? (The facts, the footage, the emotional beats we're confident about)

What DON'T we know? (The gaps, the questions, the things that could go multiple directions)

Then we do that division again within each category. And something interesting happens, the fog starts to lift. Not completely. But enough.

This week's scene is a perfect example.

We're cutting Kristina's story. She's one of our three participants, and her journey is gut-wrenching. During COVID, she lost one of her franchise stores. Couldn't pay the rent. Then, right in the middle of filming, she got hit with a lawsuit over that debt.

We have footage of her visiting that location for the first time since losing it. Watching her stand in the parking lot of a place that held so much of her identity... man.

The emotion is real.

Here's what we KNOW:

Why this scene matters to the larger story

The emotional core we're building toward

The backstory elements that need context

How it connects to her work with Nic and Fehren (which theoretically should make this brutal stuff more manageable)

What we DON'T know:

How long it will hold attention before needing a pattern interrupt

Whether the scene can carry itself or if we'll need to weave in other characters

The exact pacing that serves the emotional arc

So we're not trying to "solve" this scene in one pass.

We're gathering intelligence. Running experiments. Seeing what the footage tells us when we actually put it together.

It's the same loop we'll run dozens of times over the next ten weeks. And if you've read Permission-Less, you might recognize this as an OODA Loop in action, Observe, Orient, Decide, Act, then feed the results back into the next cycle.

The game isn't having all the answers. It's getting better answers faster than your uncertainty can paralyze you.

If you're in the middle of something big right now, a project, a pivot, a creative bet, here's my encouragement: You don't need to see the whole path.

You just need to see the next meaningful step. Then take it, learn, and step again.

Ten weeks. Eyes open. Moving forward.

The Knowns & Unknowns Matrix

Speaking of mapping what you know versus what you don't, there's a framework in Permission-Less that's become essential for how I approach any complex project.

It's called the Knowns & Unknowns Matrix, and it's a tool for building a better map of your questions rather than pretending you have all the answers.

Here's how it works:

Known Knowns (Facts) This is what you know for sure. The data, the evidence, the hard truths. You operate from here, but you don't innovate here.

Known Unknowns (Gaps) These are the questions you know you need to ask. "What's our timeline?" "How will this scene land?" This is where most "smart" work happens, filling in the gaps of a known plan.

Unknown Knowns (Intuition) This is your gut. The patterns you recognize without knowing why. The feeling that something is off, even when the data looks fine. An Architect learns to trust this quadrant and uses questions to translate its whispers into testable hypotheses.

Unknown Unknowns (Discovery) This is the realm of true breakthroughs. You can't plan your way here. You can only discover it by asking expansive "what if" and "why not" questions. This is where new games are invented.

Here's the application:

When you're stuck on a project, a client challenge, or a big creative decision, try this:

Draw a line down the middle of a page

On the left: "What I Know Is True" , dump every fact and certainty (2 minutes)

On the right: "What I Need to Find Out" , every question, including the "dumb" ones (5 minutes)

The left side is your anchor to reality. The right side is your treasure map.

Your next breakthrough begins with the most powerful question on that list.

You know what I love most about making films like Unbecoming?

It's that the ideas don't stay on screen.

When a story is told right, it weaves into the fabric of your daily life. You catch yourself in a moment of frustration and think, Wait, is this emotion data, or is it a directive? You notice a familiar pattern and ask, Is this actually me, or something I learned to be?

That's been Unbecoming for me over the past two years. Not just a film I'm making, but a lens I'm living through.

I love telling stories like this.

Stories you can explore in your everyday. Stories that make you pause in the middle of a hard conversation and consider a different response. Stories that quietly become part of how you see.

That's the goal. That's always the goal.

Until next week, keep moving, keep questioning, keep choosing who you're becoming.

• Patrick