What are you willing to sacrifice?

A woman trying to carry too many books

What is a strength of yours that is also a weakness?

My buddy asked me that last year and it led to a wild conversation. My answer?

“I obsess over the things I’m interested in.”

I’ve never dabbled. If I’m going to learn a new skill or embark on a new project, I commit to it 100%. Whether it’s a career path like building a coaching business or a personal hobby like chess or jiujitsu. If it stops being interesting to me, I quit and move on to something else.

How is this a strength?

Well, since I’m able to put my head down and stick with something consistently for months, I can learn things pretty quickly. I created a full-time coaching practice in nine months. I got cast as the protagonist in a play after my second audition ever. I became an advanced chess player in less than a year.

None of this is to brag. It’s just to emphasize the impact of commitment and consistency.

But how is this a weakness?

My hyper-obsession can get in the way simply because I get interested in too many things. This leads to suboptimal performance and occasional burnout.

We can do ten things to the first degree or one thing to the tenth degree. I also love this quote from Chris Williamson:

“You can have anything you want, but you can’t have everything you want.”

That’s a harsh truth for someone who wants a lot of things. But it’s true.

We can’t be an incredible parent and be in perfect shape and start a business from scratch and coach baseball and read tons of books and have a thriving social life and travel all the time and be a great musician and…you get the point.

Everything’s an opportunity cost. Time spent with our children is time not spent working on our side hustle. Time spent on our side hustle is time not spent with our children.

The question is: What are you willing to sacrifice?

Here’s an image to help illustrate this phenomenon—the Four Burners theory.

From jamesclear.com

We have four areas we can add flame to. Friends, family, work, and health.

When we turn up the heat on one, we reduce the heat from the others. And vice versa.

So another way to word the question from earlier is: How much heat do we want to give each burner? They can’t all be at 100%.

That answer should be different for each of us.

For example, I’m a single entrepreneur with no kids. It makes sense that my family burner isn’t as turned up as my friends who have a one-year-old.

Right now, I’m trying to hone three areas of business to provide me financial freedom in the next year:

  1. One-on-one coaching.
  2. Writing—this blog and books.
  3. My podcast/YouTube channel.

That’s a lot. And maneuvering through all of these without burning out can be difficult at times. But that’s the definition of sacrifice.

What am I willing to give up (temporarily) to accomplish my goals?

  • Tons of family/friend time.
  • My morning routine.
  • Connect calls with people.

A year from now, my burners will look completely different.

What do your burners look like? What do you want them to look like?

The 2 options for learning something

A girl in a kimono karate kicking in mid air

Last week, I took my friend to her first jiujitsu class. She’s athletic and open-minded so I thought I’d show her the misery I put myself through on weeknights.

While she enjoyed it, she said it was…a lot.

I remember when I first started in 2020. For about three months, I reluctantly went to class only to flail around and have someone control my every move. It was demoralizing.

But slowly, I began to defend myself. I got submitted less and less. Eventually, I even beat a few teammates.

The learning curve was steep. Going from total noob to slightly less of a noob was quite a journey.

My face just about every class.

So while learning a move in class last week, I looked over at my friend choking her partner. Her eyes were as wide as they could stretch. Most people aren’t used to bending and suffocating other people for fun. It can be overwhelming.

She took it easy and only sparred with a few people. They took it slow with her and talked her through everything. I’m lucky to be at a super welcoming and friendly gym.

Afterward, she wasn’t entirely sure if it was something she’d want to commit to. I completely understood. It’s hard to market.

“Hey, would you like to try something really really uncomfortable and grueling, that will take you a pretty long time to get even remotely good at, while you roll around in a puddle of other people’s sweat night after night?”

Jiujitsu, everybody.

Whatever she chooses to do, I was quite proud of my friend for giving it a go. It made me realize that we really only have two choices when learning, pursuing, or attempting something new.

Option 1: “One day…”

Option 2: Day 1.

Getting in shape. Learning an instrument or foreign language. Starting a business. We can either start these things or wait.

Starting is exhilarating, ungraceful, and often discouraging. When we begin to climb the mountain, we see how tall it actually is. We can also imagine the downsides pretty easily. It’ll be scary. We could fail. We might look stupid.

But waiting can be an unfulfilling trap. When we create all these conditions that have to be met before diving into something, years can go by and we realize we’re standing in the same (or in a worse) spot. These downsides are usually more long-term and therefore are harder to anticipate until a ton of time has gone by. It’s tough to imagine the regret you’ll feel ten years from now.

An example of this difference is building an exercise habit.

The cons of going to the gym are simple. You don’t know how to use certain equipment. You’re out of shape. You’re not sure which exercises to do. It’ll be unfamiliar and tricky before any results are had.

But the cons of not exercising regularly are cloudier and easier to ignore. It’s hard to motivate ourselves with the possibility of being deeply disappointed by our bodies years down the line. But that’s exactly what happens to many of us. We look at ourselves and wished we started working out a while ago.

That’s because we’re so afraid of Day 1. But it all starts there.

What are you avoiding? What’s Day 1 look like for you?

Solving vs. Managing

A solved Rubik's Cube

What’s the solution to overwhelm, poor health, and money problems?

I have no clue.

There are thousands of possible steps one could take to become more productive, more fit, and more financially stable. But these actions would depend on the person and their unique situation. What’s more, that person’s answers would change over time.

That’s because these challenges are infinite. They’re not problems to solve but instead areas to manage. They’re not games to win but instead fields to play on.

No workout would make us fit for the rest of our lives. No incredible conversation keeps a relationship strong forever. These things take upkeep.

I used to think if my business made over $10,000 in a month that I’d be set. I’ve had several $10k+ months over the past year and I’m still constantly money anxious. The stress hasn’t dissipated, it’s only leveled up as my bank account has. The fear used to be: Will I be able to afford rent next month? Now it’s: How long will I be able to keep this going before it all comes crashing down?

Making $10k was a problem to solve. It was finite. I either did it or I didn’t. The solution was to create enough value in my business that enough people paid me money in 30 days or less.

But the ambiguous feeling of “financial stability” is a battle that goes on forever. If I have a great month, I still have to show up to my sessions and I still have to type words on my keyboard. Then I do it all over again the next month.

We never arrive. But we often feel like we only need to check off a few more boxes in order to do so.

Even if we clean our room, we’ll either need to clean it again in the future or manage it in a way that it stays tidy.

In my coaching practice, I see a ton of people trying to find solutions to problems that actually need to be managed. Things like: finding a balance between work and personal life, practicing healthy habits, and making more money.

These things evolve as we evolve. What solves the problem now could get in our way in the future.

So when struggling with something, it can be helpful to ask: Is this a solving problem or a managing problem?

I thought I wanted to move to New York

What I’ve been doing

Two friends texted me today saying they missed the blog. One included a crying emoji.

Sometimes I go weeks posting every day. Sometimes I go a while without, especially if I’m away from home.

I just got back from living in Brooklyn for two weeks. The goal was to get an idea of what it’s like to live in the city before potentially moving there in October.

It was a lot.

I learned about the city and how to navigate it—both physically and emotionally. But I also learned a ton about myself—what I’m afraid of and what my values actually are.

And I’d like to reflect on both.

What I learned about New York City

Every day in Brooklyn felt like I was scribbling things down on an imaginary pros/cons list. I felt one of two emotions at any given time:

  1. “I can’t wait to get back home to Maryland.”
  2. “I never want to leave this place.”

There was no in-between. Let’s start with the negatives.

Cons:

1) No established community

I had no clue how comfortable I was here in Annapolis until I went to a space where I didn’t know anybody. My mom and sister live 15 minutes away. Several best friends are within a 10-minute drive. I have an incredible roommate.

Throw this same man into a neighborhood of 150,000 people where he doesn’t know a soul…It’s daunting.

It took me three uncomfortable days to admit that I was lonely. My ego repressed the thought because I pride myself on being a social butterfly, someone who makes friends easily, and a guy who can strike up a conversation with just about anyone.

But I couldn’t hide from it. After a few phone calls with friends, I could physically feel how safe I felt talking with familiar voices. I tried to remind myself that any city that wasn’t Annapolis would make me feel that way.

I went out on my own a bunch. I got solo dinners a few times. I worked out and went rock climbing almost every day. I went to meetups.

But I didn’t feel at home. So I made it a mission to ask everyone I met in New York the same question: “How did you build community here?”

More on that later.

2) The cost

My buddy spent $450 in four days in Brooklyn. And he doesn’t even drink alcohol.

What the fuck.

I can’t speak for his spending habits, but I can confirm that if I went out all the time in New York, it’d only be a matter of time until I needed my mom to pick me up and drag me back to Maryland.

A beer that costs $3 elsewhere is $7 in New York. To guess the monthly rent of an apartment, simply take what you think it is and multiply it by two or three. I started laughing when a bartender told me my cocktail would be $21. She was not laughing.

3) The trash

It didn’t just stink. It also totally desensitized me to the sight of litter.

I was walking behind a kid and his mom. He opened his Dr. Pepper bottle and let the cap fall on the sidewalk. They both saw it and just kept walking.

Enraged, I extended my arm and prepared to bend down and pick it up. But then I looked to my right and saw ten times as much garbage scattered on the concrete. Regretfully, I just went about my day.

There was a sense of hopelessness. What would’ve picking up that bottle cap done to help?

(Sorry to my climate tech friends who read this blog.)

4) The homeless

It’s hard not to sound elitist here but this was quite the culture shock.

Someone asked for money on about half of my walks and subway rides. It wasn’t super bothersome. But what stung was having to deny empathy to so many people in such a short amount of time.

It hurt each time I declined a homeless man. But I looked around and everyone else seemed totally used to it.

“You have to deny your emotions in New York City,” my Brooklyn friend told me. “If you don’t, you’ll be drained every single day here.”

He was half kidding. But I thought about what it would be like if I gave change to every single person who asked for it. It’s a challenge that I have no answers for.

(I know, I know. How dare these homeless people make my life more difficult?)

Pros:

1) The adventure

Every walk out of my apartment. Every subway ride. Every event. Every bar or restaurant. Every new connection.

My favorite thing about the city is the collective experience of living there. That may sound grandiose but let me explain.

Whenever I met someone new, I always had a conversation piece in my back pocket. All I had to do was ask three questions:

  1. “How long have you lived in New York?”
  2. “Why’d you move here?”
  3. “How’d you build community?”

And voilà. Those three simple prompts would show me a person’s story, values, and personality. Once I told them I was planning on moving there, they couldn’t add me on Facebook fast enough.

Casey Neistat said, “People don’t live in New York City. They survive.”

If I were to ask those same three questions in any other American city, it would just sound like boring small talk.

2) The food

Some of the best meals I’ve ever had were in these 14 days. Israeli. Greek. Indian. Jamaican. Cantonese. All within a few blocks of one another.

And the fucking pizza. The hype is real.

3) No car

Not having to drive or park anywhere was the bliss I didn’t know I needed.

Sometimes you don’t know what’s nice to let go of until it’s gone. That’s why I deleted my Instagram a few years ago.

4) The discomfort

I’m sure that sounds weird. I was just complaining about that in the cons section above. Let me explain.

I put off using the subway in Brooklyn for days until I had no choice but to jump on it. It was nerve-wracking. Between my travel anxiety and fear of getting stabbed, I was quite shaken up.

But then I just got to my destination and everything was fine. After doing that a few times, not only did I become comfortable on the train but I really began to know my way around. The synapses were connecting. I was, as they say, learning.

It felt like I had conquered something. As though I had a duel with fear and I came out on top.

That’s exactly how I felt when I climbed my first rock wall last month. And when I built my coaching business last year. And when I placed in chess tournaments.

We’re scared of something. Then we do it. We don’t die. Then we decide if we want to continue doing it. If we do, we get better and eventually comfortable with it. If we don’t, we stay scared of whatever it is.

I choose the former. If I spent a year in New York and had a community and a plethora of new skills by the end of it, I’d feel like I conquered something vast.

What I learned about myself

I really thought I wanted to move to New York City. And this trip only confirmed that.

I have friendships I can strengthen in Brooklyn. My friend in Philadelphia is an hour and a half train ride away. Maryland is not far. I have so much growing and stretching to do.

On that note, it would actually be pretty hypocritical of me to not move there. I help people do things they’re scared of for a living. If I didn’t practice the same, I’d be like a doctor who refuses to see a doctor.

The first week was lonely, yes. But then I got to spend time with my peoples. A best friend came to visit. I chilled with my Brooklyn buddies. I got invited to a rooftop party. I met people. I went on a date and had a lovely time.

Packing up to leave on Saturday was a sad couple of hours. That’s how I knew. I didn’t want to leave. But I had my time there and it served its purpose perfectly.

I’m energized to set myself up for a colorful life there. I want to put myself out there. I have four months.

Coming back to my suburban apartment…it felt like I was coming home to a little country town. It was so quiet. I had to go somewhere and was pissed to realize I had to get in my car and drive there.

The next steps are:

  • find a place in Brooklyn
  • sell all my stuff besides the bed, clothes, and tech
  • make as much money as possible
  • spend as much time with friends and family as I can
  • enjoy the end of this chapter

And of course, I’ll keep you updated along the way.

I wanted to hate NYC—I don’t

The street of Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Sunday was the first night of my two-week trial run living in Brooklyn. It was heavenly.

I get anxious every time I see the Manhattan skyline. Coming into New York City always feels like I’m entering a foreign warzone. My survival instincts kick in and I feel awake and on guard.

Last month, I talked with a friend who’s planning to move out of state and away from where she grew up—just like me. She’s continued to push the date back, so I lovingly called her out.

“It sounds like you’re creating reasons to not do it,” I said. Luckily for me, this landed well.

This is an unfortunate human tendency: constantly building conditions that must be met before doing the scary things we know will make us grow. We think: once I…

  • have more money
  • feel more confident
  • get a new job

Then I’ll be ready. But conditions will never be perfect. Any meaningful life decision will come with 1000 logical-sounding reasons for not doing it.

And yet, this is what my brain has been going through. As much as I rebel against this, it turns out I’m human too. I’ve been contemplating all the reasons I shouldn’t move to New York. (This video didn’t help.)

  1. I’d be leaving my well-established community—my mom, sister, and several best friends
  2. It’s ridiculously expensive
  3. Eventhough I’m a social extrovert, it’s scary to have to make new friends

Aside from creating as much income as I sustainably can in the coming months, the remedy for these fears seems obvious. I have to put myself out there.

It sounds simple (it is), but that tends to be the solution to most things.

I have a phobia of heights, so I put myself out there and tried top roping (rock climbing) with my friends. Last year, I had to build a coaching business from scratch, so I put myself out there and reached out to as many people as I could and offered to coach them. New York intimidates me, so I’m putting myself out there and am going to meetups and events by myself.

Tonight, I’m going to a chess gathering at a brewery. It’s called Chess & a Beer, two of my favorite things. For the last two nights, I’ve gone to dinner by myself. I also joined the local climbing gym.

The rooftop of Vital, the climbing gym in Williamsburg Brooklyn

Anyway, it’s hard not to jump back and forth between all the pros and cons of living here.

I walked through the local park and experienced more in 10 minutes than I do in one night in Annapolis. I heard at least six different languages spoken, saw a men’s league soccer game, got a free margarita from a cute bartender, ate excellent Mexican food, toured a gorgeous rooftop gym, and walked alongside the East River overlooking the lit up city of Manhattan.

This was all within a 20-minute walk of one another.

It’s been one full day. It feels like it’s been an entire week.

The journey continues.

Time doesn’t fly; you’re just not paying attention

People say: “When you’re 10 years old, a year is 10% of your life. But when you’re 50 years old, a year is only 2%. That’s why time speeds up when we get older.”

I think that’s bullshit.

When we’re young, everything is a novelty. We’re learning about the world, about our environments, and about ourselves. We try new things: activities, styles, hobbies. We know very little.

Then as we get older, for better or worse, most of what we do becomes routine. We pick the things we like and we do them over and over again. Or, unfortunately, some of us become akin to factory workers; we wake up, go to work, come home, watch TV, wait until the weekend to have fun, and repeat. Our lives become familiar.

I do the same thing. Although I have the freedom of running my own business and creating my own schedule, I still have my own version of clocking in during the week.

So what’s wrong with this?

Well, nothing’s wrong with it per se. But it does allow our minds to shut off. Let me explain.

Habits are great because they let us go on autopilot for things we want to do (or don’t want to do). I’ve gone to the gym so consistently that sometimes it feels like I just wake up there.

And that’s my point.

You ever drive to work (or somewhere you go often), and when you get there you realize you don’t remember the journey? It’s because you’ve done it so many times your brain doesn’t have to be on guard. Meanwhile, if you took a different route to that same place, you’d be much more alert and mindful because you’d have to make new decisions.

That’s what happens to us in our week-to-week lives. When there’s no newness, when we’re doing the same things over and over again, we wake up one morning and realize it’s already May.

“Where the hell did four months go?”

Nowhere. Time moves at the same rate for each of us. Some just pay attention better than others.

So how can we be more mindful? How can we slow down time? Two ways.

  1. Newness
  2. Gratitude

We’ve covered newness a bit. In this lies adventure, spontaneity, and curiosity.

This is something I could use way more of. I’m a super scheduled person. So I’ve been trying to leave more unstructured time in my calendar.

Trips also help—especially last-minute trips. Surprise your partner. Surprise yourself. Take a weekend off, go to the airport, and take the cheapest flight to somewhere random.

Constantly change things. Keep doing the things you love but find different ways to do them. Do them with different people. Try activities that scare you.

I have a phobia of heights. Right now, I’m slowly using rock climbing to squash that fear through exposure.

As for gratitude, this is a habit that can be built quickly.

Not only can we begin our day by writing or saying three things we’re grateful for. But we can also just start telling the people in our lives why we love them and what they mean to us.

It only takes a sentence.

I try to do this frequently. They don’t always respond with the same sentiment. But that’s not because they don’t feel the same way. It’s because they haven’t built that habit yet.

Want to make a good friend uncomfortable? Tell them how they’ve positively impacted your life. Watch them scramble for words. It’s lovely.

Anyway, my two questions for you are:

  1. How can you add more newness to your weekly life?
  2. Where can you express more appreciation?

Answering these questions will help you create your own time machine.

What we don’t see

When we look at famous actors, we don’t see all their failed auditions.

When we look at pro athletes, we don’t see the other 99% who didn’t make it to the big leagues.

When we look at a successful person, we see their highlight reel; we don’t see their embarrassing moments, their doubts, or their anxieties.

We often compare our insides to other people’s outsides. But we’re all terrified one way or another.

We want to live fulfilling lives and feel we’re spending our time well. We want to feel loved, feel important, and feel supported. This is true regardless of our occupation, geographical location, or income.

For years, I thought everyone around me had their shit figured out and I was the only person on the planet who was clueless. Then I got curious about people.

All it takes is asking someone a few questions to realize: None of us have figured out life. We’re all just winging it and are doing our best.

Don’t look to a person’s social media page to see how they’re doing. Look at their current fears and stresses. That will paint the real picture.

The gift of suffering

We were not suffering in this photo.

My friend and I saw a play at the Kennedy Center last night. It was lovely.

Things shutting down for a year made us appreciate being able to go out and do things. Since things have gone relatively back to normal, I’ve been treasuring every activity.

Jiujitsu. Climbing. Dinners. We never truly relish things until they’re taken away from us.

My coaching friend and I had a call yesterday before I left for DC. He was telling me about this five-day meditation retreat he experienced last week—just a month after his dad passed.

His biggest insight was the ability to lean into suffering. He told me, “You can’t have a lotus without mud.”

In other words, we can’t fully respect the highs unless we’ve felt the lows. We can’t bask in connection with others unless we’ve been lonely. Love means more to us when we’ve been heartbroken.

Despite my incredible tribe of friends and family, I’ve felt wildly alone in the past—like I had no one to talk to or share with. What a gift that was.

Now, when I have a conversation with a close friend, it’s almost like I enter a flow state. True present awareness. I feel nothing but gratitude and groundedness. But that’s only because I know what it’s like to long for that state.

Who appreciates a plate of food more: the rich kid who wants for nothing or the kid who almost starved to death?

✌️

Grow a mustache—Why you should be more polarizing

A man with a mustache and sunglasses looking into the distance

(Yes, ladies. Even you.)

The idea

I want to alienate more people. Let me explain.

The goal is not to go out of my way to piss people off. I don’t want to do or say anything controversial just for the sake of being controversial.

But I noticed recently that most (if not all) of my writing has been curated for anyone and everyone. I’ve been painting with a broad brush in the hopes that any kind of person could sit down and enjoy my stories and lessons.

The consequence of that has been me avoiding certain topics I thought would be lost on most of my readers: the ins and outs of my business, hot takes, possibly-arrogant stories…

Then everything changed when the fire nation attacked.

Whoops. I mean, everything changed when I grew a mustache. Here’s what I mean.

The stache

Dillan Taylor and Hank the dog sitting in his bed
There are more pics of Hank in this blog than there are of me.

I shaved my beard and left my mustache about a month ago. Since then, I’ve gone to a wedding, a bachelor party, and have gone out drinking.

The thing I noticed immediately? Mustaches are polarizing.

Some people (women) wanted nothing to do with it. Others went out of their way to say how attractive they thought it was.

Prior to that, no woman had ever mentioned to me in casual conversation how sexy she thought my face was. I realized that was because I was trying to have a face anyone could get down with.

I went from attempting to reach everyone to only spending time and energy with mustachers. They were bought in. They were my people.

Then I thought about other areas I could apply this.

The meaning

When we polarize people, some folks naturally get alienated. Some hate mustaches. Some don’t care about business tactics.

But for the ones who stick around…the connection with them is 10 times stronger. It’s not about trying to get people to buy in; it’s about investing in the ones who are already bought in.

Lower quantity. Higher quality.

So what does this mean for us?

I’m guessing half of my readership cannot actually grow a mustache (ladies…and some dudes [sorry, gents]). But we can think about this as we create things and as we connect with others.

Do you hold any opinions you’d be uncomfortable sharing with the people around you? If not, that’s a problem. It could be a sign that you just go along with what everyone else thinks and that you have few values of your own.

When creating something, are you trying to make it so everyone can enjoy it (like I did)? When we build something for everyone, we build something for no one. Find your people.

In my coaching business, I have high standards for the people I work with. I want committed action-takers who show up on time and do what they say they want to do. That’s not most people.

And that’s the point. Most people shouldn’t work with me.

It’s not about the ones left behind. It’s about finding our people and giving them the world.

Grow a mustache.

You can do it (actually)

A group of athletes running a marathon

Here’s a self-improvement cliche: You are capable of so much more than you think.

I check in with my coaching clients every two months or so. The most common statement I’ve heard over the last year when I do so is, “I never actually thought I’d be able to do this stuff.”

To be clear, it’s not because I have some mystical or magical coaching technique. It’s because the average person doesn’t consistently reflect on what they want, what they think is in the way, and what they can do to get further.

It’s the difference between someone who practices piano for 10 minutes a day and someone who doesn’t think they’ll ever be a good piano player and therefore never practices once.

One is guaranteed to improve. The other is guaranteed to change nothing.

The people I see creating fulfilling lives for themselves are not the ones making the most money. They don’t have above-average IQs. They don’t have the perfect morning routines or meditation practices.

They just take consistent, small steps in the direction they want to head.

I ran a marathon in 2020 without training for it once. That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Don’t do that.

My legs stopped working about 19 miles in. After that point, the only thing that kept me going was my mind (and the encouragement of my friend).

My brain told me I had to stop. I had to walk the rest. But I just kept hobbling.

I knew there were only so many steps between where I was and the finish line. Once I made it there, my first thought was, WTF, brain. Why’d you lie to me like that?

Running 27 miles with rubber legs is different than living our day-to-day lives. But the mentality is all the same.

We want something. We think there’s something in the way. Then most of us choose not to pursue it. We often think, I can’t bear this. But you can. You already have.

I knew I could keep running in pain because, well, I was already running in pain. I had proof I could handle it.

Unfortunately, most people stop before they get that proof. Don’t stop.

Keep running.

What I learned from Will Smith’s slap

I never thought I’d use this blog to respond to pop culture, but here we are.

Anyone with eyes knows about what happened at the Academy Awards. People seem strangely divided on their opinions. I’m not going to dive into mine here.

I just want to share an insight I had when I first read about it and watched the uncensored video.

My emotional reaction was something like: Oh my God, that’s not the Will I know!

Once I felt that, I started laughing. I don’t know this man even a little bit. In fact, I know more about the characters he’s played in movies and on television than I do about him.

For some reason, when someone is famous or in the public eye, we get a false sense of familiarization. We build internal relationships with them. We say things like, “I adore her,” or, “I can’t fucking stand that guy.”

Either way, we truly have no idea what it’d be like to sit down with this person and have coffee with them. Maybe they’re as outgoing and humble as they seem. Maybe they’re an asshole. We. Don’t. Know.

And we’re not supposed to know. Actors used to have a mystique about them. You know, back in the good old days before I was born. Here’s an entertaining video explaining why modern actors just don’t shine the same.

My point is: We should judge a person’s work, not the person themselves.

Having millions of dollars and being known by millions of people doesn’t make someone more ethical, more intelligent, or more rational. Those things become harder with more money and power.

They’re just as smart and as stupid as we are. They’re not Gods. They get jealous and cranky. They make mistakes.

The difference is that when we slip up, a few people at most will hear about it. When Will Smith does something idiotic, billions of people to come will see it unfold.

Was I disgusted by what he did?

Of course.

Will I go see the next movie he stars in?

Of course.

On confidence

Confidence is not a necessity. It’s a reward.

I’ve had nearly a thousand coaching conversations with people. I’ve heard it every week for over a year.

“I just need more confidence.”

In other words: “I must first have this internal emotional change. Then and only then will I be physically able to do what I want to do.”

It’s totally understandable. But it’s nonsense.

If confidence is the belief in oneself, how can we have such faith when we’re unskilled and inexperienced in a thing? Unless we’re full of ourselves, we’ll naturally be nervous and unclear. That’s okay.

Being scared has nothing to do with us being able to do something. We do scary stuff all the time. If we don’t, it’s not because of inability; it’s because we choose not to.

Running a business. Talking to people we’re attracted to. Improving a skill.

We often think: “I need to learn X so I can do Y.”

When in reality, it’s: “I need to do Y and then I’ll learn X.”

Do first. Then feel confident as a reward for doing.

Don’t wait for it to fall into your lap.

Startups suck

The whiteboard of a startup business with planning and sticky notes

That sounds harsh. Here’s what I mean.

When I visited my friends in Philly this January, I walked one of them to the train station. We were chatting in the freezing cold about the next steps for my business.

I mentioned I wanted to help startups. I had always been fascinated by them from afar but have had no interest in creating one myself.

What she said struck me.

“I mean, you do run a startup,” she said. “You manage a profitable business. You provide a service that other people pay for all on your own.”

Whoa, I thought. “I suppose that’s true,” I replied.

She reminded me that we seem to have unhealthy images of what startups actually are. Millions of dollars of venture capital. Software as a service. Founders who work 10-hour days and neglect their health.

I don’t want to do any of that. And I don’t have to.

I’m rereading Rework by Jason Fried. It’s a business book on how to optimize for fulfillment, not profit or growth.

In it, he argues that when starting a business, we don’t need business plans, we don’t need to grow if we don’t want, and we don’t need a big team. All we need is to sell a product or service to people willing to pay for it. Then, we need to make sure our revenue is higher than our expenses.

That’s it.

Jason also suggests not using the word “startup.” Just say business.

Before starting my coaching practice, I saw the “world of business” as this intimidating, unwelcoming entity. But there really isn’t a “business world.”

There’s just the world. It’s made up of human beings. They make decisions. They buy stuff. I had this idea in my head that startups were these mystical and magical creatures. They’re not.

In starting a business, all we need are three things:

  1. A product/service
  2. People willing to buy it
  3. A way to take their payments

If we can’t define these three things first, there’s no business. There’s just an idea.

That conversation with my friend a few months ago was short and simple. And it uplifted my spirits moving forward. As I continue to meet startup founders and learn about what they do, I’m not thinking, OMG I’m talking to a startup founder right now. I’m thinking, Wow, this person is really interesting. I’d love to learn more about what they’re going through.

As always, things are much simpler than we think.

Success?

Is success a number or a feeling?

Is it a dollar amount in our bank account…or not being stressed about bills?

Is it how many followers, subscribers, or connections we have…or the level of connection we feel with the people we’re in the same room with.

Is it our weight…or the refreshing and limber sensations of a healthy and active body?

Fight back

Two people fighting in a field

I’ve heard some helpful models when it comes to making decisions:

  • If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a no.
  • Listen to your body.
  • Trust your intuition.

These are lovely and quite useful. But they can also be utter nonsense.

Last night, I returned to my jiujitsu class after sitting out for a year. Everything in my body was telling me not to go.

You clearly don’t love it anymore. Everyone is going to be miles ahead of you by now. You’re tired and trying to slow down, just rest.

This is what my intuition was telling me. It was not a hell yes. Resistance was miles high.

But I went anyway.

Right when I got there and saw my old friends, my energy came back. We hugged, we laughed, and I got my ass kicked.

A lot of people tell me they’re intuitively led. Our intuition is a powerful thing.

But it’s not so impressive when it keeps us from doing the things we know are good for us. I’m not a fan of relying on willpower and discipline to get things done. But sometimes it really is as simple as sitting down, forcing ourselves to do something that isn’t super fun, and doing the work.

If I listened to my body every day, I’d spend those days on my couch watching YouTube on my phone.

It’s important to ask oneself: Is this intuition or is this Resistance?

The perfect morning

It is my birthday. And I couldn’t be happier with how I’m spending the morning.

Phone is off. Coffee is hot. I just read my favorite book for 20 minutes and am now writing in my fourth favorite blog.

I got too fucked up this weekend in NYC. No alcohol for a while.

After slowing way down, I’m ready to use the new boundaries I set to put my head down and build something special. The fire is rekindled. I’m in the mood to show up as a professional.

Resistance can’t win. It doesn’t stand a chance.

I’m 28. And time is only continuing to tick.

Here’s to another year!

New principles

A man in a suit sitting and working at his desk

Last week, I watched this video on non-negotiable principles.

The dude in the video—Alex Hormozi—is super bro-y but he provides a ton of gold. The video made me consider my business’s principles.

I’ve had them written down on my whiteboard since the start of the new year. I realized five was too many. I couldn’t even name them off the top of my head if someone asked. That means they were just sentences that sounded nice.

So I trimmed them down to three.

1) Curiosity before solutions.
2) Help people so much, they don’t need me.
3) Take nothing personally.

It’s not like customers and clients are going to start flooding through my door now that I have three principles. But even seeing this refined list on my whiteboard makes me feel clear and established as to what I stand for.

If I hire people in the future, I now have a set of must-haves. My favorite line from the video is:

“Most people shouldn’t work for your company.”

Because most people won’t embody all three of these principles. That’s okay. It’s about finding the ones who do.

We don’t need to run a business to have two or three core principles, though. What are yours?

I’d love to hear them.

Stupid games

Dice and pieces on top of the board of a game

Naval Ravikant said, “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

This sounded a bit harsh and over-dramatic when I first heard it. It took me a while to actually get it.

We often play “stupid” games:

  • trying to be the smartest person in the room
  • looking really cool on social media
  • making as much money as humanly possible
  • being on our phone for hours each day

I have coaching clients who have played tons of these games. I’ve played tons of these games.

The question is: What does it look like to win the game you’re playing?

If you climb your way to being the absolute coolest person on Instagram (whatever that means), what would you be able to do with that? What would that mean for your life? What would that fulfill?

If you feed your phone addiction and make sure you never miss a notification, or respond to every email as quickly as possible, what would winning that game look like?

In my experience, the prizes of these games often include being kind of happy for a short time…then going right back to whatever our normal state is. After that, it’s feeling disappointed that this thing didn’t bring us enlightenment.

An even darker example is texting and driving, one of the stupidest games out there. 400 fatal crashes happen each year from driving while using our phones.

But what is ‘winning’ texting and driving? Not having to wait 10 minutes to see what our friend texted us?

In 2020, my mom was completely stopped at a red light waiting for it to change. A young man hit and totaled her car at 50 mph. He was texting.

I always think, I wonder what he was doing on his phone and I wonder if it was worth it? He played a stupid game and won a stupid prize.

So which games bring us awesome prizes?

For me—and I would argue for most of us—it’s all the cliche stuff:

  • being a great friend/son/daughter/etc
  • getting physically/mentally fit
  • improving skills
  • being kind and curious

So, what games are you playing?

If you were to win that game, what would that look like? Would it be worth it?

It turns out I’m not perfect

I no-call no-showed a connect call yesterday.

It was with a fellow coach. I accidentally stood her up.

I saw her message saying something like, “Hey! Ready for our call?” My heart sank into my chest. I had completely forgotten to put it in my calendar. Therefore, it didn’t exist.

One of my values is timeliness. When people are late to things with me, I tend to get heated.

But when stuff like this happens, I get humbled and it becomes much easier to practice patience and compassion.

When I get annoyed with something, it begs the question:

Have I ever done this thing that I’m so upset at? Have I been perfect in this regard?

Getting a raise vs. having a kid

I got dinner with my old boss last night.

He recently got promoted to VP in his company. He’s also the recent father of two.

When I asked him about the new VP position, he calmly said, “Yeah man. It’s cool.”

When I asked him about his partner and kids, he lit up. He raised his volume. He smiled as he spoke. He talked with his hands. “I love it,” he said. “It’s my favorite job I didn’t know I wanted.”

I pointed out how much more excited he seemed about his role as a dad than his role as a VP. He told me that one influenced the other.

When he detached himself from wanting a promotion and focused his love and attention on his family and wellbeing…he got the promotion.

We so often chase something only to see it evade us. Like magnets repelling from one another.

Fulfillment. Friendship. Opportunites.

These come readily to us when we just stay present, provide as much value as we can to those we care about, and continue to do the things we want to do.

We work on ourselves. We sharpen our axes.

We get what we want when we don’t care about getting what we want.

It’s never enough

Pizza crusts on a plate

Yesterday, my best buddy and I won $1,000…each.

It was a raffle for subscribing to The Hustle, an extraordinary newsletter on the worlds of tech and business. I’m a sucker for those things…

“For each person you refer, you both could win a billion free socks!” Or something like that. My friends often roll their eyes. But look who’s laughing now.

The $1K comes in the form of an Airbnb gift card. This is phenomenal because it feels like I’ve won free experiences, as opposed to the less-sexy prize of $1K in my savings account.

I’d be grateful either way. And this blog is about that ‘g’ word.

God.

Lol jk. It’s about being grateful.

Something happened five minutes after I saw we won. Something I’m embarrassed to share.

I started thinking about all the trips I have planned in 2022 and about how nice it would be to have my lodging paid for. Brooklyn in February, road trip to Florida in April, NYC again in May, European road trip in July…

Then I thought, Ah man…There’s no way $1K is going to cover all of that. If only it were $5K…

I actually thought that. It took five minutes for me to feel like a free $1K wasn’t enough! Am I insane??

I immediately laughed at myself. “Yeah Dill, some people really have it awful. What ever are you going to do?” Silliness.

Unless I’m a sociopath, the point of sharing that is to highlight the human tendency to always want more. That’s why conditional happiness (or the hedonic treadmill) is a dead end.

Conditional happiness: “I will be happy/fulfilled/satisfied once I have or do this thing.”

Then we get whatever that thing is and we are happy…for five minutes. Then we go right back to our default state.

One of my clients got his dream job, his dream car, and is financially set for life. He told me that none of that brings him sustainable fulfillment. Robin Williams was loved by the world, made millions of dollars, and pursued his dreams successfully. And he hung himself. I got free God damn money and got upset it wasn’t more.

It’s up to us to build a default state of gratitude and appreciation.

I’ve decided to forgive The Hustle for only sending me $1K. Please send your condolences directly to my email.

Football is scary

An American football on the grass of a field

Yesterday, my mom took me and my uncle to a Washington Football game.

The only sports I care for are MMA and soccer, but I always say yes to a live sporting event for three reasons:

  1. I’ll enjoy any event if I’m with people I care about.
  2. It’s always fascinating to see people who are at the highest level perform (in this case, NFL players).
  3. The people-watching is golden.

Today, I want to talk about that third one.

Growing up, football was my favorite sport (sorry, Bow Wow). Then around high school or college, I noticed something that turned me away from it.

People truly treat it like a religion.

Don’t get me wrong, I love how a sport can bring people together and evoke powerful emotion in millions of people. I enjoy listening to folks passionate about a sport discuss the business and inner workings of what makes the game tick. I enjoy the roars of crowds at games like the one I went to yesterday. Depending on the UFC bout, you can find me standing and screaming at the TV.

But what leaves a sour taste in my mouth is hatred—disgust for other players or fans (i.e. human beings) because of the jersey they’re wearing.

I’m not saying every single football fan is filled with rage, but it’s not uncommon.

When I was in high school, I would go see my team play against our rivals. I despised them. I wanted them to lose every game. I was convinced I didn’t like them as people without ever speaking to a single player.

Why?

For no other reason than the arbitrary fact that I attended my school. If circumstance led me to attend the rival school, I would’ve felt the same about my school. If I grew up in another state, I wouldn’t have even known either of these high schools existed.

Thus the religious context comes into play. When I see babies or toddlers with Steelers jerseys on, I doubt those kids chose to be Steelers fans. Likewise, if we’re born into a Muslim or Hindu family, we’re unlikely to be raised as Christians.

At the game yesterday, I saw fans flipping other fans off, telling them to “stop fucking talking,” and ironically clapping in their direction when their team did something good. There was an essence of mob mentality, meaning I saw people do things they would never do if they were in a living room with just one opposing fan.

There was no genocide, but in what other contexts do we act this aggressively toward other people?

I’m probably being overly dramatic. I just think it’s odd to see people feel so identified with a group of people they’ve never met. And it’s not even that group of people; it’s the shirts they’re wearing.

This blog likely triggered a few football fans. Apologies.

But maybe that proves my point?

The R word

Every now and then I talk about Resistance.

The concept comes from The War of Art by Steven Pressfield—a book I read once a year.

Resistance is the invisible force that keeps us from doing the things we want to do and living the lives we want to live.

It takes many shapes: fear, procrastination, justification, anger, shame…

It says: “You don’t have to do this right now. Do it later. It’ll be easier and more enjoyable if you do this in the future.”

Most of the time, Resistance sounds reasonable. We can’t start until we do this thing, until we have more knowledge, until we have more confidence.

I’m writing a book. Each and every time I sit down to start typing, without fail, I find reasons to wait. I set out to begin writing at 9am, but won’t start until about 9:45.

Readers of this blog know I’m not a big grind-hustle-discipline guy. I don’t think we have to torture ourselves to live a life worth living.

But the simple truth is we don’t get something from nothing.

There are plenty of things worth doing that we won’t feel like doing. Whether it’s something small like reading or working out, or something with higher stakes like starting a company.

We can just start. It’s time.

I’m sad and I don’t know why

A gorgeous winter landscape with the Sun going down

Maybe sad is the wrong word.

Last week, one of my clients said the same thing happens every winter: From December to February, he just wants to quit his job, not talk to anyone, and smoke weed by a campfire.

I feel that.

Not that I really want to do any of those things, but I do feel a twinge of sadness or dissatisfaction and I can’t pinpoint the source.

Yesterday, I called my best friend to tell him that and see what his thoughts were. But after ten minutes of just chatting and laughing, my state had completely changed.

I had energy. Things felt light again. What happened?

Aside from being a social creature who gets filled up by human conversation…I was reminded of an inconvenient truth.

Our states and conditions are constantly changing.

Happiness is an emotion. Just like rage or sadness. I don’t think we can genuinely “be” happy; I think we can feel happy. Being assumes it’s ongoing and everlasting.

This is why I don’t strive for happiness. My goal is fulfillment.

We can be fulfilled and still be sad, stressed, or uncomfortable. So during times like these—when it’s colder and darker than usual—I stick to my fulfillment system:

Every day, every week, I do the things I love and try to get better at them: Quality time with friends/family, coaching, chess, exercise, reading…

Yesterday, after work I wanted to:

• cancel a run with my buddy
• skip the gym
• watch YouTube and porn until midnight

I didn’t do any of that. Despite my mind telling me what was good for me, I stuck with what I knew: You won’t be happy to do these things, but you’ll be glad you DID them.

It’s true every time.

Likewise, when I choose not to do the things I know I regret after—watching porn, staying up on my phone, ordering $40 of DoorDash—I’m thankful 100% of the time.

How the hell do I conclude this blog?

Basically, I’m feeling grey at this point in time, and that’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. There’s nothing to fix.

I’m confident that if I just keep living with my values and doing the things I know make me a fulfilled person, the grey will subside.

Meow.

Am I an asshole?

Here’s one of my favorite parables (I’m not actually certain it’s a parable, technically):

If you go out into the world and happen to run into an asshole, you just met an asshole.

If during your travels, you run into 30 assholes, you’re the asshole.

I used to work with this woman who thought the world was out to get her on a daily basis. She complained about people, judged others, and gossiped constantly.

Each week, it seemed like something wildly unfortunate and unfair would happen to her. This confused me until I realized an odd, almost spiritual truth:

The world is what we think it is.

Whether we see life as a gift or as a burden, it all comes from within.

I used to think people sucked. And lo and behold, they did.

But once I started working on myself, improving my life, and seeing people as fascinating…they became much more lovely.

It’s all one big self-fulfilling prophecy.

First time at chess club

Last night.

I found out there’s a chess club in my city. They meet every Tuesday night in the Whole Foods cafe.

I showed up with my chess set and clock to a bunch of old men sitting and playing casual games.

For some reason, I was nervous on my way.

Not that I would get my ass beat (in chess). Something about hopping into a new community of people.

I guess at 27, I’m still giddy about making new friends.

They were some of the kindest people I’ve ever met. The youngest guy (he was in his forties) welcomed me to his board for my first game.

I played two gentlemen, two games each. I absolutely destroyed them.

We played for two hours until the grocery store closed. I told them about my first tournament coming up this month and they were super supportive…as if we’ve been teammates for years.

Needless to say, the nerves were gone.

Things are never as bad as the possibilities our minds make up.

I’ll see them next Tuesday.

Let the dog cry

A Golden Retriever looking up and smiling

I’m dog-sitting for my friends.

Each morning, after breakfast and our long walk, he cries.

Every minute of whimpering feels like an hour. My internal alarms go off and I anxiously go through my checklist. Are you hungry? Do you have to poop? Do you want to play?

So I do all these things. Still crying.

When I texted my friend to ask what they do, they calmly replied: “I don’t know, ignore it? He’s a big, furry baby, Dillan.”

So after making sure he’s good to go, I just go about my morning.

Eventually, he stops.

This made me think of our minds.

For seemingly no reason at all, our brains are in panic mode telling us something is wrong. We jump to solutions and distractions. Fix fix fix.

Only to prolong the alarms.

The practice of mindfulness doesn’t aim to stop negative thoughts. The goal is to simply be able to recognize negative thoughts as they inevitably appear.

So, “I’m never going to be financially stable” becomes “I’m having a stressful thought about not being able to pay my bills. I feel it in my chest and throat.”

This rarely makes the experience more fun, but it does look at it from an objective space.

I used to connect being tired with my life being shitty.

One night of bad sleep and I would spend my day thinking, I feel like garbage I have no motivation I am garbage the world sucks I suck.

Then one morning during a meditation, I was asked to focus on the physical sensations of being exhausted. I felt my heavy eyes and throbbing forehead. I watched the sentences and images of thoughts float by.

It was as if the clouds had parted.

“I suck” became “Oh, I’m just tired.”

Nothing’s wrong.

We can just let the dog cry for a bit and see what happens. Eventually, he’ll lay down and rest.

I went too far

A little girl wearing a mask and holding a teddy bear also wearing a mask

I like to create rules.

Boundaries and guidelines for living a healthy and principled life.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve added two rules to my chart:

  1. I can only drink alcohol twice a month.
  2. I can’t give unsolicited advice.

I’ve changed my mind on both of these. Let me explain.

Let’s start with the second one: giving advice.

I recently read The Advice Trap: Be Humble, Stay Curious, and Change the Way You Lead Forever. (Here’s my review of the book if you want my quick summary.)

In short, giving advice isn’t always the best way to help someone. We usually provide solutions to the wrong problem and, while we don’t like to admit it, our solutions aren’t always that good.

I soaked this in. The last chapter is a reassurance that giving advice isn’t evil, it’s just not always the most effective option.

Despite this, I processed the whole thing as: I must never give advice.

So, when I inevitably did, I felt gross. I felt like a bad person who was hurting my friends and colleagues.

It didn’t take long for me to go, Yeah…I don’t think I’m supposed to feel this way.

As for my drinking, that rule came from puking two nights in a row while on vacation. Naturally, I woke up that second morning certain I would never drink again. I’m sure I’m the only person who has ever pretended to decide that.

But this weekend, I went to DC to have dinner at my friends’ apartment. They cooked a delicious meal and offered me a glass of wine.

I thought, You know what, I DO want one glass of wine. Maybe even two.

And that’s what happened. The three of us finished a bottle then drank water and played games for the remainder of the night.

I said out loud, “Ah. This isn’t the problem. Getting fucked up is the problem.”

Believe it or not, I just don’t enjoy getting wasted as much as I did when I was 20 years old. Go figure.

The next night, I got dinner at my other friends’ house and we each had one hard Kombucha (I know, we’re tanks). It turns out that when I only have one or two drinks I tend to not make shitty decisions.

Conclusion

I erased both of those rules from my whiteboard.

The lesson?

It’s a great thing to notice areas of improvement in our lives. We have the power to make changes in our habits and tendencies to create something better.

But it’s even more healthy to reassess those changes and course-correct if they’re not fully meeting our needs. We can ask: Is this really a problem? If so, is this the best way to address the problem?

Then when our needs shift we can adjust again. And so on.

I don’t really drink unless it’s a social event and I’m not rushing to preach my worldviews to people. But I will have a beer here and I’ll share some opinions there…

All I can do is try to be healthy and helpful and apologize when I overstep.

That’s the new rule.

The value of heartache

A woman holding a neon heart against her chest

Life can fucking hurt.

Between people dying, hearts breaking, and a million other things which make us physically ill…we’re guaranteed to feel powerful negative emotions at times.

Yesterday, my coach told me, “There’s no system for grief.”

In other words, sometimes we’re sad and we don’t fully know why and there’s no formula to make it go away right now.

We have to just sit in it. And learn from it.

As readers of this blog know, I try to find the lesson in everything I do. After a painful experience, I allow myself to feel my feelings, and then I’ll ask things like:

What was the value in this?
What have I learned?
How can I use this as an opportunity to grow?

It doesn’t make shitty circumstances and more pleasant. But it is a long-term strategy for drastically improving as a person.

I handle myself with grace and respect when it comes to breakups, tough conversations with friends, and uncomfortable business dealings. I don’t take things personally and I never lose my temper.

How have I gotten so good at these things?

Because I was shit at them in the past.

I’ve tried to shame women into being with me (oh, to be 20). I’ve treated friends like garbage until they did what I wanted (sorry, Phil). And I’ve been stunned and speechless on the phone when a potential client told me “No thanks” (this year lol).

It’s through moments like these—memories that make us cringe—where the real growth happens. If someone doesn’t have any cringy memories, I assume they’re the same person they were in high school.

I treat women with respect because I know from experience how awful it is when I don’t. I’m open and honest with my friends because I’ve seen how sustainable and fulfilling that is over being passive-aggressive. And I’m detached from outcomes in my business because I’ve felt the agony of obsessing over a result and it not going my way.

It sounds David Goggins-y, but we learn from pain. Only if we let ourselves, though. Only if we seek the lessons.

We all want wisdom. But we don’t want the thing that brings us wisdom.

Feel…but learn as you do so.

You are not your past

A giant analog clock on a wall made of stone

For 26 years, I had two limiting beliefs cemented in my mind.

  1. I could never run a business—I’m not business savvy and none of it is common sense to me.
  2. I’m a talker and a thinker, but when it comes down to it I never take action with the things I want to do.

Today, I work 20 hours a week, make more money than I ever have before, have my dream job…and it’s all from taking consistent action and creating my own company.

Okay, that all sounds like a fake entrepreneur’s Instagram ad. I promise I’m not about to pitch my ebook or online course.

My point is: In the last year, I’ve flipped those two “certainties” on their heads.

I created a sustainable business that pays for my life. And the thought of not taking action if I want something feels nauseating. When there’s something I’m interested in that I think would benefit my life, my first thought is: How can I make it work?

To be fair, none of this came from a simple mindset shift or from a single event. This has all been a slow-growing and consistent progression. (Plus several anxiety-riddled months.)

So what can we do with all this? Or did I just want to brag about my life? While it does feel nice (and a bit slimy), I wanted to highlight an unfortunate truth:

We create fixed identities for ourselves by using the past to define us.

We can hear it in our language.

• “I always…”
• “I never…”
• “I’m not the kind of person who…”
• “I tend to…”
• “I could never…”

As Steve Chandler says, we mistake habits as traits. Repetitions as characteristics. Because we’ve done something more than once in the past, it’s set in stone that we’ll keep doing it.

I truly “couldn’t” run a business or take consistent action. Until I could.

When we think we can’t do something, we tend to prove ourselves right by not putting in the effort to make it happen. If I’m certain I can’t write a book, I never sit down to start typing. Therefore, my hypothesis gets confirmed.

Many of us have heard the phrase: “People don’t change.”

What fucking nonsense.

People change all the time. Our values, our habits, our goals…The vast majority of us are experiencing a neverending evolution.

Personalities and tendencies are real, but we don’t have to let them pigeonhole us and keep us stuck in the same place.

I’m aware that this blog sounds like a typical self-help book. But if we just take consistent, scary action…we’d be amazed by the ways we prove ourselves wrong.