Architecture is often measured through progression; roles, titles, promotions. The assumption is that moving upward on the ladder means you’re moving forward in your career. But during a recent conversation with an architect further along in the field, I was reminded that growth doesn’t always look like ascension. Sometimes, it’s a return.

This reflection is based on that exchange. Not as a summary, but as a way to document a moment that challenged how I understand education, firm culture, creativity, and what it really means to move forward.

The Return to Design

The architect I spoke with had moved from a senior role at a large, rapidly growing firm into a more focused design position at a smaller practice. On paper, this transition might look like a step backward. But in context, it was intentional.

He had reached a point where firm growth had started to compromise his creative process. Projects became repetitive. The firm leaned toward copy-paste efficiency, duplicating details from one development to the next. Even though his title had elevated, the work had narrowed.

By stepping into a new role with less administrative pressure and more creative control, he was reclaiming the space to think again. To explore. To build with intention. This was not a resignation, it was a reorientation toward what mattered most to him.

Learning by Doing

What resonated most was his perspective on growth. He said something I haven’t stopped thinking about:

There’s no wrong mistake.

Mistakes, for him, were not things to avoid. They were evidence of engagement. Learning happened not through perfection, but through process - doing the work, making errors, reflecting, and improving.

He explained how this applied to everything: site work, client interactions, firm transitions, even shifting disciplines. The mistake itself wasn’t the problem; refusing to learn from it was. That mindset of constant feedback and self-correction was one of his most valuable tools.

It reframed how I view my own early path in architecture. It’s not about waiting to get it right, it’s about showing up and building the skillset through experience.

Studio vs. Field

We also discussed the disconnect between architectural education and practice.

In school, the focus leans toward conceptual design. It’s an environment of theory, abstraction, and individual vision. But in practice, architecture is collaborative, detail-oriented, and highly technical. Things like zoning, permitting, and coordination take center stage.

He spoke about how much he had to relearn once he started working full-time. The gap between what’s taught and what’s expected in the field is real, and common. But he emphasized that staying curious, asking questions, and remaining a learner was far more important than trying to perform expertise.

That stuck with me. Even as you advance, staying teachable may be the only constant in this field.

Creative Autonomy

Another key takeaway was the value of creative agency. His shift from a large firm to a smaller one wasn’t just about stress, it was about ownership. He wanted to be closer to the work, to the problems, and to the people shaping solutions.

Architecture, at its best, is not just design execution. It’s design authorship. And to hold onto that requires knowing when to let go of titles, step out of rigid systems, and build a more aligned practice.

Architecture is rarely a straight path. It bends, pauses, and rewires itself depending on how you choose to engage with it.

Conclusion

This conversation reminded me that stepping forward doesn’t always look like climbing up. Sometimes it looks like slowing down. Returning to the work. Learning from it. And starting again, on your own terms.

Growth doesn’t always come from elevation. Often, it comes from re-connection; to the craft, to your intent, and to the questions that brought you here in the first place. What matters most is staying close to the process. Because that’s where the real architecture begins.