I really like Venn diagrams.
Not because they’re tidy. Not because they’re cute. But because they force a shift. They ask you to look again. To take two things that might not belong together, and ask—what happens if they do?
Sometimes that intersect reveals a breakthrough. Sometimes it reveals a dead end. (Both are useful.)
They help me find patterns. Reframe problems. And sometimes, make peace with the fact that some things just don’t overlap.
A simple example
On the topic of food. On the left side: tasty. On the right side: smells terrible.
What lives in the middle? Durian immediately comes to mind.
(Sidenote: I’m not a fan of durian. But I get it. Respect to all those who enjoy it. I’m not here to yuck your yum. Back to the post.)
A project example
There were so many major and minor details that made up AI Site Builder. Each one had to connect. Each one had to play nice. One of the hardest problems?
Getting all the colors to work together—no matter what combinations users threw at it.
I tried everything.
- I made lists.
- I wrote essays.
- I talked to myself for hours (literally). Recorded it, then analyzed the transcripts.
Lists are my default. My go to. My bread and butter.
But here’s the problem with lists: they’re flat. One-dimensional. Often deceptively tidy. But real problems aren’t tidy. They aren’t linear. They aren’t as straight forward as lists make them out to be. They don’t show relationships—unless you scribble in arrows.
Sometimes bread and butter needs some garlic to make things more interesting.
So... I make it interesting.
Tables
I’ve become a huge fan of tables—probably from my adventures in Google Sheets.
In one example, Sergie (Webflow co-founder) and I were working through how to render aesthetic background, text, and icon combinations. There’s no solution in this screenshot, not yet. But in the midst of chaotic rectangles and arrows, there’s a table trying to pin it all down.
Flow diagrams
This one helped me trace when and how background/text colors should flip—from light to dark. (Way, way, way more complex than just some form of "light/dark mode".)
The diagram became my QA map. I’d literally trace it with my finger while testing combinations and formulas.
And at the bottom? Some nonsense math I scribbled to try to explain it all.
(Sidenote: I’m not a mathematician. But sometimes nonsense math helps me make sense of nonsense.)
Venn diagrams
Here we go.
In this sketch, I used Venn diagrams to explore how colors interplay between sections, cards, and buttons. This intersect—this shape—actually helped unlock the first working version of the color system.
Also, yes, there’s a table.
And yes, there’s more nonsense multiplication.
(It’s all part of the process.)
A work/life example
I don’t just use Venn diagrams for product problems. I use them for perspective—especially at the intersection of work and life.
They help me step back. Tilt my head. And look for connections I might be avoiding.
Work impact
What you’re good at vs. what your organization is bad at. The overlap is where you can make impact with less effort.
Example: if you’re really good at documentation, and your org is bad at it? Start writing. People will notice. (This happened to me.)
Career growth
What you’re interested in vs. What you’re afraid of. The overlap is where you grow.
For me, this distinction matters. “Bad at” is fixable. “Afraid of”? That’s where avoidance lives. That’s where the work is.
Example: if you want to write more but fear sharing your writing? That’s the overlap worth stepping into. (Also me. Which is why you’re reading this now.)
Ikigai
The mother of all life x work Venn diagrams.
Ikigai is a Japanese concept about finding your purpose—by looking at the overlap between:
- What the world needs
- What you can get paid for
- What you love
- What you’re good at
I first found this in 2019. I still think about it. And I still share it when friends are stuck.
Circling back
Will a couple overlapping circles give you the meaning of life?
Probably not. (Most definitely not. Let’s not get carried away.)
But the act of drawing them? That moment where you pause—tilt your head, squint your eyes, and trace a new path? That might be the spark. Not because you discovered something new— but because you finally saw it differently.
Problem-solving isn’t always about having the answer. Sometimes it’s about finding the right frame.
And sometimes… that frame just happens to be a couple of circles.